Notes Toward a Politics of Citation

In the interest of conversation, since this piece was initially envisioned as a roundtable discussion rather than a formal academic article, I want to explore some unfinished learning that I have been in the middle of doing, having to do with citational politics. Much of what I explore here will not be new, and so it is meant as an exploration of what I hope is a shared learning process. The very fact that this conversation is taking place in written form before it has had the benefit and warmth of face-to-face discussion with colleagues, at the roundtable that was scheduled to take place at accute 2020 before covid-19 grounded the globe, is itself part of the theme of citational politics, as I explore below.

Let me circle down into the topic of citational politics by way of an illustration.

I wrote an essay in 2016 in which I coined a term that is now in widespread use. The essay was about masculinity, a situation that I am learning offers considerable grist for cosmic irony.¹

One of the nice things about having written an essay that is in wide circulation is that one begins to receive mail from readers. There is a type of email that I've become accustomed to receiving in my inbox. It is both kind and baffling, reading something like, "Hi, I've read your work and it has had such a profound influence on me. I wanted to share this [essay, book, course, panel, workshop, dance class, podcast] that I've created that is directly inspired by your essay. I hope you like it!"

What happens next is that in something like 80 percent of these cases, I open the link or attachment only to find my ideas, clearly quoted and influencing the piece, without any reference to my essay. Occasionally, the term I coined is attributed vaguely to others or inadvertently attributed to the writer's own unique genius.

To be fair, these are most often genuine, heartfelt, and honest messages that feel good to receive. It's nice to know one's work is circulating and touching people. And in most of these cases, the erasure appears unintentional. This is not, I believe, intended as disrespect, or plagiarism, or theft. It nonetheless lands as a baffling form of erasure. It is almost as though the use of the ideas confers respect, even without connecting those ideas to the essay that generated them.

Granted, the conventions of journalistic writing are less rooted in citation, but they still generally try to give credit where credit is due. This silence can happen even when the pieces cite other articles or sources of expertise by name.

I'm lucky, in that the readership for that particular article tends to be notably willing to bare their reasons for doing a thing. Most of the men who engage with that piece and get in touch with me are honestly and firmly committed to unlearning their conditioning into patriarchy.

When I gently reply with thanks for the kind email, telling them how much I enjoyed the piece, which I often do, and ask if they would cite me, given that the author has built their work on the foundation of mine, the email writer is usually apologetic, surprised, and unable to fully express why they didn't give due credit to the source.

The humour is not lost on me that it has taken this scale of readership, and this obviousness of an erasure, before I finally accepted that, indeed, as a woman writer I face the routine erasure and devaluing of my role as the author.

With those who have been willing to explore the question of what processes are at play in this odd and yet clearly patterned phenomenon, I have gained valuable insight into the workings of knowledge generation and circulation and the systemic washing away of the work of women. I have had a number of beautiful conversations that I think leave everyone unscathed, if maybe a bit abashed, once I make it clear that I...