Connect more

A month ago, after a two-year hiatus, Princeton University Press gathered together with its European Advisory Board in a sienna-coloured brick building in leafy north Oxford, the press’ new European home. Our aspiration was to take the pulse of the moment, to consider our role as publisher of scholarly ideas for varied readerships, and to think about how we should evolve in the coming years. Perhaps because we had spent such a long and strange time apart, the excitement of reconnecting in-person inspired a theme to emerge from our discussions that afternoon: the power of books to connect people.

Many of us had experienced this power first-hand during the pandemic. We, like other university presses and publishers, enjoyed unprecedented engagement with our publication programmes, especially our backlists, as readers took time for deeper perusal and discovery. As readers quested, we watched something special enacted—a phenomenon at the heart of the book industry. Those who seek books share a motivation: to understand or to feel understood, or both. Seeing and knowing this made us feel closer to each other in spirit.

But now, even though we have emerged to varying degrees from the exhausting isolation experienced during the pandemic, we have encountered a chilling sense of remoteness growing between people unable to bridge political and ideological differences. Intellectual isolationism seems to be on the rise, and healthy debate, in the long tradition of scholarly engagement on topics from differing viewpoints, is under strain. Some might argue that its tradition and practice are positively crumbling. In various quarters of the scholarly world, especially as it intersects with the public square, it is increasingly rare to see debate modelled in a productive, respectful and inclusive way. In an age of sensationalism, misinformation, tribalism, book-banning and censorship, the mission of university presses is increasingly profound—and, for authors, public outreach is more challenging.

Just as reading is a hopeful exercise in seeking connection, so is the practice of writing—and bravely so. Books that serve to bridge cultures of thought and inspire conversations, collaborations and debate are needed now more than ever; it’s not an exaggeration to say that such books help to forge the bonds of humanity. But, in our present cultural environment, writing broadly accessible, peer-reviewed books can seem as fraught as the unstable supply chains into which university presses publish them. Early career scholars in particular, who may harbour existential concerns about surviving in a highly dynamic and competitive academic environment, are not universally encouraged to communicate with the public in book form. They know—we all know—how important their contributions are to the conversations that will shape the world and our futures. Yet book-writing for the public can open the door to censure from senior colleagues, not to mention outright censorship, cancellation and other forms of trolling and backlash. It is as though we have undergone a Great Splintering; the fissures across our culture, including in the scholarly world, are pervasive and permeating. While it can feel comforting to find one’s tribe, it can be very unsettling to be attacked by opposing tribes for expressing one’s views, or even to be chided by one’s own tribe for “straying” from a prescribed path. Authors take risks in choosing to open up, speak out—and while we endeavour to build and strengthen connections between writers and readers, we find ourselves increasingly alert to the ways in which university press publishing is not value-neutral. We shouldn’t want it to be.

One of our strongest organisational values is fostering connection, which requires that we strive tenaciously against splintering forces. We seek to publish a diversity of voices that—with every word, engagement, debate and outright disagreement—aim to forge understanding and connection among readers. Through our role as a publisher and our efforts to realise the value of connection—even and especially in context of the expression of divergent viewpoints—we can foster public conversations that ultimately have the effect of bringing people together.

These days, it can sometimes feel risky, even dangerous, to speak, to write, to read. Yet in context of the world’s cracking and convulsions, we can still have inspiration, determination and courage. The values of our university press community include commitments to free speech, critical thinking, conversations and debate that challenge us to think differently, self-critically, and ultimately serve to connect us. We can cultivate the power at the heart of sharing words and meaning across space and time. Faced with voids that seem impossible to cross, we can be a counterforce to the energy that seeks to drive us apart. As a publisher, we can encourage, advise and protect authors who seek to take risks, write polemics, engage in civilised debate, question prevailing wisdom and provoke and challenge the status quo. We can share a foundation of trust and integrity, as we publish books that help us understand our world, our selves and each other.

And, in the end, we can be hopeful. There has never been a better time to share the ideas of the scholarly world as widely as possible. We publish in the name of connection, to change our world for the better. There has never been a better time to be hopeful than now.