It’s never my intention to be mean or divisive. To the best of my ability, I try to focus on the material and evaluate both arguments and support. The more directly and clearly one does that, the better, but directness, especially online, can read differently to people. It’s easy to take any criticism personally even when it’s not intended. [1]
I didn’t pull any punches in my last post, but no blow was aimed at people as people—my intent was to target interpretations, argumentation, and issues of authority either widely acknowledged as problematic, such as “HEMA” lacking any real oversight, or, concerned with questions about credentials that have long been under discussion. [2] It’s important.
As an instructor and historian I have a responsibility to my students and everyone else to be honest about my training, how I arrive at the interpretations I do or why I use those by someone else, and to be as transparent as I can. When I get things wrong (and I do), I owe it to all involved to own it, correct it, and give credit where credit is due.
Few things are harder than declaring, publicly, that one made a mistake, but it’s one of the most important things we can do. First, it’s honest—everyone screws up. Second, owning mistakes and trying to correct them argues for one’s credibility. Third, because our interpretations are shared, we owe it to those who use them to keep them in the know. My own experience with this has demonstrated to me that not everyone will appreciate it, but it’s the right thing to do regardless of reception. Thus, whenever someone offers us valid criticism, it’s on us to consider it and if necessary adjust our conclusions.
Working remotely in a tiny corner of the world, and rarely able to travel to events, conferences, or seminars (though I try), I know of, but do not know, most of the people engaged in the current debate within smallsword circles. I know them only via their work or participation in the community. Even if I did know them, I should not judge them as people (provided they’re not bigots or overly arrogant) but evaluate their work. I expect people to do the same with anything I might share of my work. That is how research works, well, how it’s supposed to work. [3]
All of this is to say that if you are hurt reading my critique, please remember I see you as a colleague in a difficult endeavor; that we, all of us, owe it to all using our work to do right by them and produce the best work we can. Good research is a collective pursuit—we rely on others for support, for correction, and for making our work better. In like vein, we also owe it to our students and one another to be honest, frank, and ready to back up any credentials we claim. The study of martial arts, any branch, relies on trust, and we establish that trust more in action than words.
Notes:
[1] Even in person it can be hard to face criticism, but it’s part of the job. Online communication is notorious for confusion; lacking facial cues, body language, etc., we have to work harder to be clear in what we write and be sensitive to how things might read.
[2] The burden of proof for one’s credentials is on the individual. Normally, it’s easy enough to prove should one question things—maestri, for example, are handed a diploma produced by the organization that granted it and that displays the signatures of those masters that evaluated the candidate. There shouldn’t be any mystery around it.
[3] Work in research long enough and you will see the best and worst in people when it comes to using or evaluating one’s work. For every instance of helpful, well-intended help, there are a legion of people who fail to read it completely, or worse, misconstrue and misrepresent our work. For example, one reviewer of a book I wrote failed to read the preface; had he done so he would have realized that his major criticism, that the book was less monograph than he expected, was targeted towards undergraduates. For a more serious example, a dissertation from 2014, and which mentioned my dissertation from 2002, not only resorted to insulting language, but also misrepresented my work (how her dissertation committee let that go is anyone’s guess—mine would have read me the riot act for such a breach of professionalism).