Monday, February 24, 2014

The hard sell: has the Anzac industry passed its use-by date?

Anzac’s Long Shadow. Black Inc. Publishing
In his new book Anzac’s Long Shadow: The cost of our national obsession, James Brown argues that 'A century after the war to end all wars, Anzac is being bottled, stamped and sold'. The former soldier turned scholar criticises excessive federal government spending on the four-year Anzac Centenary which, when supplemented by private donations, could reach more than A$600 million dollars.

Brown recognises our Anzac obsesson is not new, claiming that federal legislation was introduced to protect the word “Anzac” from commercial use in the early 1920s. In fact, regulations were enacted under the War Precautions Act in May 1916, little over 12 months after the landing, in response to a flood of Anzac branded products and trade names, including tea, soap and soft drink. Yet early commodification pales in comparison to the staggering appropriation of the mythology by the private sector over the past decade.

While Brown believes the money allocated to the Anzac Centenary would be better served by supporting veteran’s charities he admits that these organisations have also become part of the problem. Once guardians of Anzac, the fortunes of the RSL and Legacy have become increasingly tied to corporate cause marketing.

As a former marketing manager (turned historian) I can attest that cause marketing is not philanthropy – it is marketing. Corporations that align their brands with the RSL and Legacy have firm profit motives for doing so. Commodification masquerading as commemoration is less discernible but no less exploitative. It is also much harder to contest.

Brown’s highly readable book aims to provoke. He employs stinging metaphors to describe our Anzac fetish – claiming that “Anzac Day has morphed into a sort of military Halloween” and that the Centenary promises to be an “exorbitant four-year festival for the dead”.

Brown is highly critical of the rampant commodification of Australian military history by a burgeoning “Anzac Industry” and, ironically, it is these sensational claims that have led the promotional campaign for his book.

Yet to focus on this aspect misses the point.

Brown’s exploration of Anzac commodification is constructed as a counterpoint to his main argument – that the Australian defence force is underfunded and that the “digger myth” has left little room for appropriate awareness, appreciation or debate surrounding the work of today’s service personnel.

In their attempts to celebrate “a century of service” it seems the organisers of the Anzac Centenary have inadvertently raised some uncomfortable questions about how current servicemen and women relate to the Anzac legend.

While modern warfare has evolved, the mythology surrounding the volunteer digger has not. Brown claims the Anzac narrative “doesn’t yet have a place for quiet professional soldiers doing their job” and that “a surfeit of honour can scar today’s returning soldiers as much as insults scarred our Vietnam veterans”.

Brown echoes the views of several prominent Australian historians when he argues that the unwillingness of the federal government and defence department to talk about why Australian soldiers fight overseas and what they do there has resulted in a dangerous gap between myth and reality.

For ex-serviceman Brown, the “digger myth” does not aptly convey the complex experience of war – one better characterised by shades of grey than black and white. He also echoes historians when he insists that increasingly sentimental approaches to commemoration have acted to conflate emotion as historical understanding and stifle much-needed critique and debate.

Brown goes even further to suggest that the mythology has “not only distorted society’s view of the military but also the military’s view of itself”, claiming that the Anzac legend has undermined the organisational culture of the Australian Defence Force.

Royal Australian Air Force/AAP

In a scathing review in the Quadrant, Mervin Bendle classed Brown’s book alongside Henry Reynolds and Marilyn Lake’s What’s Wrong With Anzac?: The Militarisation of Australian History but, despite outward similarities, this book is boldly distinctive. Unlike Reynolds and Lake, Brown wants to invest more in the military, not less. Brown does not seek to undermine the idea of an “Anzac Spirit”. Indeed, he admits this is the reason that he and many others joined the military in the first place.

Brown engages with the substantial historiography surrounding Anzac mythology too lightly and the evidence he employs to support his argument is often anecdotal. Furthermore, in a world in which celebrity VC winners receive lucrative book contracts, go on speaking tours and front multi-million dollar ad campaigns for beer brands – it is hard to believe that modern-day soldiers lack status and prestige.

Yet, there is much to like about this book.

Brown’s efforts remind us of the necessity of interdisciplinary approaches to understanding our military past. His claims upset the cosy assumptions of historians who assume that the Anzac resurgence has been wholly beneficial to the cause of the Australian military.

Collaboration between social historians, military historians and scholars of defence strategy is not absent, but sorely lacking. In their efforts to understand the social cost of war, many Australian historians have been guilty of neglecting to examine the military and strategic contexts in which these conflicts play out.

We would do well to remember that, as an ex-serviceman, Brown has a unique and privileged platform from which to critique the “digger myth”. The authority to challenge the mythology is all too often reserved to veterans and their families. There are many ways of “knowing war”. A national mythology in which all are encouraged to participate but few are allowed to critique does not serve its citizens well.

Has the Anzac Industry passed its used-by-date? Only time will tell. But the public reaction to Brown’s book suggests that the Anzac Centenary is set to become a focus of debate and critique as well as commemoration.

Anzac’s Long Shadow: The Cost of Our National Obsession by James Brown is published by Black Inc.

This article was originally published on The Conversation. Read the original article.

Monday, November 18, 2013

Brand Anzac™ – a historic past or mythic present?

 This article was originally published at The Conversation. Read the original article.

Anzac Centenary logo, DVA.
The logo for the upcoming Anzac centenary was released last year with surprisingly little fanfare. The final design was selected from several options by the Anzac Centenary Advisory Board after consultation with the public, veterans and current serving personnel, and reveals a great deal about how Australians may commemorate the event.

The centenary of the first world war (2014-2018) looms large this Remembrance Day and governments are investing heavily in commemorative events and infrastructure. The UK will devote £75 million to commemorate the centenary; France has planned a series of exhibitions and events; and New Zealand has allocated NZ$17 million.

Australia is spending an extraordinary A$140 million, with federal funds supplemented by corporate donations, an investment that reflects the renewed centrality of the first world war to Australian national identity since the 1980s.

Unlike other nations, Australia is not commemorating the first world war but the Anzac Centenary. The Gallipoli campaign (April 25 1915 – Dec 1915) was a military defeat; but the exploits of the Australian and New Zealand Army Corps (ANZACs) were said to exemplify a unique national character, signifing the birth of the nation. As a result, remembrance in Australia is focused on the first day Australians went into battle rather than the day the war ended.

Attendances at Anzac Day services began to fall after the second world war but, in recent years, Anzac commemoration has undergone a powerful resurgence in Australian politics and culture.
Historians, including Henry Reynolds and Marilyn Lake, have grown increasingly concerned about the prominence of Anzac mythology in Australian history, arguing that remembrance involves a great deal of forgetting.

A growing public appetite for Anzac commemoration has certainly been fuelled by state-sanctioned commemorations yet overt actions to manage the mythology have resulted in public criticism. In early 2012 an outcry erupted over attempts by the Federal Government to “brand” the Anzac Centenary.

Several veterans and politicians publicly slammed “tax-payer-funded” market research commissioned by the Department of Veterans' Affairs to investigate “what and how to communicate with the community about the anniversaries”. A study conducted in 2010, at the cost of A$370,000, identified the risk of commemorations excluding multicultural communities and Anzac Day becoming negatively associated with alcohol consumption. A follow-up study was commissioned in 2011, reportedly at the cost of A$103,275, to address those concerns and test designs for Anzac Centenary logos.

Prime Minister Julia Gillard claimed she “completely” disagreed with the study’s finding that commemorating Australia’s military history in a multicultural society could be a double-edged, and potentially divisive, sword. Her response alleviated concerns that the Labor Government planned to “tone down” Anzac Day and make it more “politically correct”.

Should focus groups and registered trademarks surprise us? State-sanctioned commemorative events in the 21st century are meticulously planned, promoted, managed and mediated across various platforms from TV to online.

Curiously, despite the furore over event branding, there has been no outcry over the Anzac Centenary logo. War has historically served as a test of Australian manhood, as well as a test of nationhood, and the male digger takes centre stage, glistening in gold. As a precious metal, gold is highly valued and reflects prestige. It reminds us of the social currency represented by Anzac as well as literal commercial value, evidenced by booming publishing and tourism industries.

Sport and war have taken on particular centrality within Australian national identity and gold also evokes sporting success - signifying gold medals or Olympic rings. Mythologies of the “digger” and the “sportsman” idealise and glorify archetypal Australian masculinity and represent a set of values that inform what it means to be Australian, including mateship, courage, endurance and sacrifice. That gold is also the colour of victory is thick with irony since the Gallipoli Campaign was a resounding defeat.

The New Zealand WW1 logo.
Other nations have also hired creative agencies to design logos for their centenary commemorations. Rather than the digger, the iconic Flanders poppy is central the New Zealand centenary logo, a symbol strongly associated with Armistice Day and the war’s end. The silver fern, a national emblem often used in military insignia, features prominently along with the WW100 event name.





The British centenary logo. IWM.
The British centenary logo also evokes the colours and shape of the poppy, reflecting the new “fragmented” visual identity of the Imperial War Museum. Its shattered form reflects the overwhelming force of war to shape people’s lives. Text along the logo reads “First World War Centenary” and the logo itself forms the shape of a “C”.



 
 
 

Mission Centenaire
 In contrast, the French centenary logo is muted in sombre grey and white. Despite a self-conscious effort towards ambiguity, the stark design recalls a granite gravestone.

Perhaps the most striking feature of the Australian centenary logo is the absence of any reference to the first world war at all. The design is focused firmly in the present, commemorating “100 Years of Anzac, 2014-2018” rather than the first world war, 1914-1918. The design conveys myth, rather than history, an ambition encapsulated by the tagline “The Spirit Lives”. In this way, the logo reflects our contemporary relationship with the Anzac legend, serving as a poignant reminder that Anzac mythology now operates well outside of the confines of the first world war from which it originated.

Lest we forget the terrible conflict we strive to commemorate.

The Conversation

Wednesday, October 2, 2013

Tim Minchin: 'The arts and sciences need to work together to improve how knowledge is communicated'

I'm a long time of Tim Minchin fan. After leaving Perth to spend a large part of my twenties in London I've never yet managed to sit though White Wine in The Sun without getting a little teary. Minchin shared nine life lessons with Humanities graduates at the University of Western Australia a few weeks ago, when he was awarded an honorary doctorate. He delivered a stirring speech that revealed him as both a realist and a romantic. As well as sharing his own special kind of (un)conventional wisdom with graduates, he urged the arts and sciences to work together to improve how knowledge is communicated. I think it's rather brilliant. Take a look.


Monday, September 30, 2013

Upcoming journal article - ‘What better excuse for a real adventure’: History, memory and tourism on the Kokoda Track.

Another teaser! I'm excited to announce that my first journal article will be published in The Public History Review (vol 20) in late 2013. I'll write a blog post closer to the date that explores the topic in more detail. In the meantime you can view the abstract below:

‘What better excuse for a real adventure’: History, memory and tourism on the Kokoda Track.


Rapidly growing numbers of Australian tourists visiting overseas battle sites associated with Australian military history have been met with enthusiastic academic interest by historians, yet the vast majority of studies focus on Gallipoli, rather than the Kokoda Track. Prior to 2001, few tourists had undertaken a journey along the narrow jungle pathway, which winds 96km through the Owen Stanley Ranges in Papua New Guinea. Just over a decade later, the track supports a competitive tourism industry, dominated by Australian companies, and attracts thousands of trekkers each year. This paper applies an interdisciplinary methodology to better understand the duality of locations of battlefield tourism as sites of commemoration and, unavoidably, sites of commerce. A survey of 107 trekkers suggests that, in addition to an expression of national identity, the mythology associated with the Kokoda Track has been appropriated by Australian tourists to represent individualistic goals of personal development and transformation: meanings that originate from the site’s history but extend beyond it.

Source: Wikimedia Commons
Source: Wikipedia (Luke Brindley)

Upcoming conference paper - Anzac for Sale: The Gallipoli Campaign in Consumer Culture, 1915-1921


Sydney Morning Herald, 27 October, 1917.
I'm excited about delivering a paper at upcoming conference 'The British Empire and the Great War - Colonial Societies/ Cultural Responses', which will be held at the Nanyang Technological University in Singapore between 19-22 February 2014.

"In 1914 almost one quarter of the earth's surface was British. When that same empire and its allies went to war in 1914 against the Central Powers, history's first global conflict was inevitable…It is the social and cultural reactions within these distant, often overlooked, societies now thrust into the mainstream of modern industrial conflict, which is the focus of this conference." Source: conference website.

The conference programme (draft) has recently been released and it looks fantastic. You can also read my abstract below.

Anzac for Sale: The Gallipoli Campaign in Consumer Culture, 1915-1921


The cultural impact of the Great War in Australia is most often examined in the shadow of the Anzac Legend, a powerful national mythology rooted in ideas of Imperial militarism and masculinity. While scholarship is commonly conceptualised around monuments and commemoration my own research examines Anzac in consumer culture. As Michael Billig has theorised, ‘every day’ representations of the nation may be banal but they are certainly not benign. After the Gallipoli Landing on 25 April 1915, the word ‘Anzac’ came to represent a set of aspirational values and attributes. Tea, soap, toys, soft drinks and other goods branded with the word ‘Anzac’ flooded the market, and businesses, such as hotels and cafes, were renamed to include it. Consequently in 1916, the federal government issued regulations restricting the use of the word. These regulations were enacted barely twelve months after the landing and only four months after the evacuation. This paper will consider what motivated Australians to use the word ‘Anzac’ for commercial purposes and why authorities moved so quickly to stop its use. It will argue that consumer culture offers an unexamined site of contest from which to examine the personal and collective impact of the Great War.

Monday, August 26, 2013

Lest we forget what?

The Anzac Centenary logo
With the centenary of the First World War looming, the Australian federal government has allocated over 100 million dollars for commemorative activity over four years. Like many historians, I share fears that commemoration will prioritise sentimentality rather than create spaces where Australians can engage with their military history in diverse and meaningful ways.

The event branding does not assuage these fears. The '100 Years of Anzac: The Spirit Lives 2015-2018' logo suggests a celebration of myth, rather than history.  In contrast to the New Zealand and British Centenary logos, which at least allude to the First World War, Australia seems firmly rooted in a mythic
present.

First World War Centenary UK
Remembering WWI New Zealand
With this in mind, I was excited to hear that the ABC has commissioned historian and writer/director Dr Rachel Landers to produce a new documentary that interrogates this potent military mythology.  Lest We Forget What? aims to start a national conversation about the increasing prominence of the Anzac Legend in the Australian national imagination.

The documentary producers requested video submissions from contributors and I had a marvellous time last weekend writing and shooting a video over 24 hours. Video is a powerful medium and the creative process was really rewarding in itself. The performative aspect was very new to me but once I got over initial awkwardness it was a lot of fun!

You can view my submission (and blooper video below).


Lest We Forget What? from Jo Hawkins on Vimeo.

Q1. Why do you love Australian history? (00.23)

Q2. What do you think is problematic about the way Australians remember WWI? (02.53)

Q3. Find a volunteer (friend, family or foe) and get into an engaging debate about WWI. Attempt to change their point of view. (08.00) The Debate: Is the AFL Anzac Day Clash an appropriate form of commemoration?

Friday, July 12, 2013

10 insights for humanities researchers from #ACHRC 2013

#ACHRC 2013: 2 days, 1 keynote, 6 panels.
Between 8-9 July, researchers converged on the University of Western Australia for the annual meeting of the Australian Consortium of Humanities Research Centres (ACHRC).

Humanists came from range of disciplines and institutions: university research centres, collecting institutions, advocacy groups, media, university administration and funding bodies. The diversity of attendees resulted in a range of perspectives and energetic debate.

All were united by a belief that, in a world facing pressing global challenges, we need the humanities now more than ever. In this context, it seemed appropriate that the keynote was delivered by Alan Liu, a digital humanities innovator and passionate advocate of the humanities.

Here are ten themes that emerged over an inspiring few days:

1. We need to learn how to tell compelling stories about the humanities.

4Humanities.org
We’re not doing enough to communicate the value of what we do. Alan Liu’s keynote stressed the importance of humanities advocacy and outlined the creation of 4Humanities.org - a “conceptual laboratory” that provides a space for humanists to tell their stories. Digital storytelling outcomes include:
  • Infographic Friday - visualisations that express the impact of the humanities using statistics
  • Humanities Backpack  - mini documentaries that bring the research process to life
  • Humanities Showcase - online portal that allows public audiences to browse a gallery of research case studies

For Liu, public engagement starts with an articulation of fundamental principles which should be long-term, structural and local/global. What do the humanities stand for? Frustrated by the strategic plan outlined by your research institution? Liu and his colleagues at the University of California were. So they sat down and outlined their own vision.

To communicate values you need to know what they are. Several key outcomes of the 4Humanities project have been value finding exercises such as What everyone says about the humanities and Humanities plain and simple, which challenges contributors to outline why the humanities matter in plain language. Techniques include focus groups, crowd sourcing, and text mining values statements. For a best practice example, Liu pointed to a recently released report and video published by the American Academy of Arts and Sciences, “The Heart of the Matter: Commission of the Humanities and Social Sciences.”

2. And communicate these stories to our audiences more effectively.

Deakin University: Research My World
Engaging with public audiences is not about meeting research impact funding obligations; it’s a social responsibility. Andrea Whitcomb encouraged researchers to resist the notion that academic work is outside society and to develop research projects that emerge from problems and issues outside of academic debate.

Alan Liu outlined a framework for public engagement that involved (1) articulating a core message, (2) designing a communications plan (involving the selection of spokespersons - not necessarily the researcher, media channels, and specific media forms and genres) and (3) communicating this message to a specific target audience (such as fellow academics, practitioners or local communities). Researchers should seek to emulate organisations skilled in communicating for social change, such as the Occupy Movement, MoveOn.org and Amnesty International. He suggested researchers may like to read Jennifer Earl and Katrina Kimport’s recent book, Digitally Enabled Social Change, Activism in the Internet Age.

Deb Verhoeven felt it was important that researchers feed data and results back to communities. She described a recent project that engaged communities in the research process from the outset using crowd funding. Not only did the Deakin University Pozzible Campaign, Research My World, raise over $20,000 in research funding, it helped build the online profiles of the early career researchers who participated.

Jane Davidson, from the ARC Centre of Excellence for the History of Emotions argued that research impact should include creative outcomes as well as traditional research outputs and outlined recent collaborations with ABC radio, schools and the arts. 

Andrew Jaspan, Editor of The Conversation, outlined his vision to provide a new business model for news media. The Conversation has 1.3 million unique views per month, with 80% of the audience outside of academia. An Australian success story, over 60% of academic contributors are followed up by other mass media outlets and the recent UK launch will be followed by launches in USA and India. Subsequently, Linguist Alan Dench reminded researchers that, while the written word has primacy in academia, spoken language remains a primary form of communication and is innate to human beings. He urged attendees to speak on the radio and encourage students to practice communicating their research verbally by participating in Three Minute Thesis competitions.

3. But often, we don’t really understand who our audience is.

Dev Verhoeven reminded researchers that we are not communicating to a homogenous group of people called “the public”.  Powerful storytelling necessitates a genuine understanding of our audience/s and these insights are the bedrock of any communication. Not only will this information assist researchers in crafting an impactful message, this kind of focus can assist in making decisions as to the most effective communication channels - vital when time and money are in short supply. Know your audience and design communications to resonate with specific concerns.  Then choose the most appropriate communication channel to reach each group.  Provide different touch points that allow people to become involved at various levels. For example, some may watch a video or share information on social media, others might like to make a donation or even examine research data for themselves.

4. It's not enough to start a discussion, we need to change the conversation.

We need to advocate the humanities on our own terms.  Christina Parolin, of the Australian Academy of the Humanities, argued that the term "benefit" captures the intention of research assessment better than "impact". Indeed, Alan Liu prefers the term “discovery” rather than words such as “invention”, and “innovation” as he believes it most aptly expresses the range of human meanings and possibilities associated with technological breakthroughs.
Liu suggested that researchers explore George Lakoff’s strategic frame analysis, a science based communications methodology that draws from linguistics, psychology, anthropology, political science and communications theory. If you're interested in Lakoff's work you can explore his eWorkshop Changing the public conversation on social problems: a beginners guide to strategic frame analysis  or read his article Framing 101: How to Take Back Public Discourse.

5. Continue to question the logic of measurement indicators.

Carmen Lawrence agreed that accountability for publicly funded research projects was important but compelled the audience to keep asking the hard questions. Why are you asking us to measure this? What is the likely benefit to the academy/society? How many dollars does it take to get one dollar on the desk of a researcher? Christina Parolin agreed that data collection was an issue, citing the administrative burden and cost of preparing case studies, the risk of over engineering the effort to measure impact, and the focus on demonstrating and communicating rather than making the research more beneficial.

Lawrence noted the private sector origins of the current obsession with measurement, citing the mantra "If you can't measure it, you can't manage it".  She compared dogmatic approaches to measurement with religious devotion stating "The fact that something is hard to measure does not mean that it is not real or important". Indeed she argued that the more any social indicator is used for social decision making, the more it will corrupt the very policies it aims to manage, quoting Goodheart’s Law which states "When a measure becomes a target, it ceases to be a good measure".

6. Form richer, mutually beneficial collaborations.

We’re stronger together. Humanists may have different goals but we tend to share a similar vision. Richard Neville, outlined how the State Library of NSW wants to "be a place where conversations happen, either on site or online", an objective which echoed several previous discussions. Yet collaboration between different research centres, disciplines and collecting institutions poses challenges.  Neville recognised opportunities to share staff, knowledge and experience based on mutual understanding and frank discussions about expectations, constraints and opportunities. Alec Coles, CEO of the Western Australian Museum, reiterated some of these concerns but was optimistic about ways in which partnerships could add immense value.

7. Think global.

Is the global turn in higher education merely economic opportunism or a genuine desire to train and educate graduates to become global citizens? Masashi Haneda, Vice President (International) of the University of Tokyo, argued that global issues such as climate change, food and water crisis, aging societies, bioethics, security and migrations, necessitated the development of a new global citizen and that the humanities should play a leading role. Krishna Sen, Dean of the UWA Faculty of Arts, was more cautious about the idea of “Global Humanities” arguing the centrality of difference and relativism to the humanities. Yet, the discourse surrounding the Asian century highlights the importance of alternative modes of understanding. According to Krishna, "We are the miners of ideas and we are the real miners of the Asian century".

8. Embrace new technologies.

Marvin eBook reader - iPad app
Alan Liu showcased some extraordinary new digital humanities projects such as Open Journal Systems (OJS), the Journal Author Name Estimator (Jane) and Marvin – an iPad app that automatically generates abstracts from ebooks.  Other innovations included JoVE, a Peer Reviewed Scientific Video Journal and Wikipedia Journal Articles. Liu’s visions for the future included a machine learning approach for identifying thesis and conclusion statements in student essays, and a computer program that could support academics in public outreach by automatically generating draft tweets and blog posts based on "business as usual" teaching and research activities.

According to Lui, Research Centres should act as “Think Tanks” for the Humanities.
  • Taking a long term, strategic approach and contributing to public policy
  • Becoming hubs for digital humanities by investing in state-of-the-art infrastructure (such as video conferencing), hosting workshops and conferences and offering support with communications and public outreach, websites and databases, and legal/IP issues.
  •  Lobbying for institutional acknowledgment for blog posts and public outreach activity, referencing the recently published (and must-read) Young Researchers in Digital Humanities: A Manifesto. Carmen Lawrence also recognised that the immense pressure to publish and lack of reward for outreach activity discourages community engagement, stating "We are giving young researchers the wrong message".
  • Supporting early career researchers by recognising that there are not enough academic jobs for graduates and helping to develop alt-ac career paths.  Kate Darian-Smith, of the University of Melbourne, also shared examples of how her team are trying to develop new career opportunities and forms of PhD supervision.

9. But be realistic about potential pitfalls and challenges.

Who is going to pay for it all? Several speakers recognised the logics of current funding systems provided considerable barriers to making such grand visions a reality. An ACHRC survey of 180 Australian Research Centres led by Tully Barnett revealed that many operate with minimal administrative support - yet this is vital for tracking research impact, planning events and public outreach activity.  Training and developing new skills is essential for researchers but this has limits. It it is inefficient to stretch competencies too wide. Research Centres should empower humanists to do what they do best and free their time for research as much as possible.

Toby Burrows, Director of eResearch at UWA, urged attendees to be aware of “The Nasties” when planning websites and databases. Blogs, social media and open source platforms are not “free”. They involve a long term commitment of time and effort, as well as  hard costs involved with backing up data, servers and web hosting. Should you seek open source, commercial or bespoke IT solutions? Burrows outlined pros and cons of working within IT systems or going it alone.

10. And stop complaining. 
Robert Phiddian, Director of ACHRC, didn’t mince words in his closing remarks, stating “It’s our own bloody fault” for taking the brace position rather than getting on the front foot. The meeting ended on an optimistic note, with a challenge to experiment, innovate and think differently about the ways in which we undertake and communicate humanities research.

There is much to be done but also much that can be done


*************

I was awarded a bursary to attend the 2013 meeting of the Australian Consortium of Humanities Research Centres (ACHRC) by the UWA Institute of Advanced Studies.  Huge thanks to the event convenors: ACHRC Director Robert Phiddian, ACHRC Research associate Tully Barnett and UWA innovation cheerleader, Susan Takao.