2012 Research Skills PDF
2012 Research Skills PDF
2012 Research Skills PDF
out) and the considerable number that are still lacking research skills even while they write up their final dissertations. I suspect we have not been doing a very good job. To come to terms with this situation, I have been going over all the assessments we make of what we call the students minor dissertation, a 30,000-word research design and pilot study that they have to present within two years of beginning the program. We here refers to several examiners of those projects, the main ones being Andrew Chesterman, my late and much regretted colleague Christopher Scott-Tennent, Franz Pchhacker, Sen Golden and myself. Some evaluations were noted from video recordings of the defense sessions. I have simply jotted down the main negative comments and I have then arranged them into lists of shortcomings, with little concern for quantitative analysis. That arrangement, with a few suggested causes, is what is reported on in this paper. My wider hope is eventually to convert that negative list into a positive set of skills to be developed, with ideas on how to do the developing. But we are not yet there. The overall exercise is not as banal as it sounds if I can isolate skills that are somehow specific to research on translation (here including interpreting and localization), I might have an idea of what Translation Studies is. And that is what is really at stake. 1. Shortcomings that do not concern Translation Studies Unfortunately for most readers of this text, the exercise has confirmed my growing suspicion that the vast majority of the missing skills have remarkably little to do with Translation Studies. This concerns quite elementary things like: - attempting to cover enough material for two dissertations - attempting to cover enough material for three dissertations - attempting to cover enough material for four dissertations - choosing a topic for which not enough data is available - choosing a topic for which not enough subjects are available - choosing a topic for which data will cost too much money and/or effort - depending on research methods in which the student has no training (the statistician will sort it out) - choosing a topic because it suits the data-gathering tool you want to use (this mostly happens with corpus linguistics, and more recently with eye-tracking) - tackling too many variables for too few subjects - sampling in an uncontrolled way - believing that empirical means quantitative only - using value terms in hypotheses - using categories that give the result before the research is done - taking self-report data (questionnaires and interviews) at face-value - taking your own experience as primary data and as sufficient methodology - mimicking the ideas of your supervisor - never questioning your position as an observer - citing a lot of theory to state the obvious - collecting a lot of data to state the obvious - assuming there is only one cause for a social effect - looking for one thing (e.g. explicitation) without looking for its opposite (e.g. implicitation) - assuming the only pertinent contexts are the borders of a nation or a language
believing
that
research
involves
no
more
than
talking
about
a
topic
coining
terms
instead
of
defining
concepts.
And
a
long
etcetera.
I
could
get
into
serious
trouble
trying
to
elaborate
any
one
of
these,
so
let
me
put
the
list
on
hold
and
make
the
basic
point:
all
of
these
shortcomings
can
concern
any
kind
of
research
in
the
humanities;
as
methodology
problems,
they
are
not
limited
to
Translation
Studies.
A
clear
consequence
of
this
would
seem
to
be
that
we
do
not
really
need
doctoral
programs
in
Translation
Studies.
Any
basic
research-training
program
should
be
able
to
address
the
above
problems,
so
we
could
send
our
junior
researchers
to
any
basic
training
program,
ideally
one
that
covers
research
methods
for
the
social
sciences.
Such
a
move
would
be
in
tune
with
the
position
of
the
American
Translation
and
Interpreting
Studies
Association
(ATISA
2008)
when
it
declares
that
research
on
translation
does
not
require
its
own
disciplinary
location:
it
can
be
carried
out
within
Linguistics,
Literary
Studies,
Sociology,
whatever,
and
may
indeed
be
better
when
done
within
those
disciplinary
locations.1
That
argument
might
be
reinforced
by
the
low
quality
of
research
done
in
some
Translation
Studies
programs
in
Europe
-
having
a
named
academic
niche
will
not
automatically
bring
quality.
At
the
same
time,
the
convenience
of
the
argument
could
also
partly
be
explained
by
the
fact
that,
to
the
best
of
my
knowledge,
in
the
United
States
only
one
dissertation
has
been
defended
in
a
doctoral
program
called
anything
like
Translation
Studies
(although
dissertations
on
translation
have
been
carried
out
in
any
number
of
other
programs,
in
Modern
Languages,
Comparative
Literature,
Linguistics,
Sociology,
or
Computer
Sciences 2 ).
That
is,
the
ATISA
members
would
seem
to
be
bulwarking
the
disciplinary
locations
in
which
they
themselves
were
trained
and
where
the
vast
majority
of
them
now
work.
And
for
that
matter,
bad
doctoral
research
can
and
does
happen
anywhere.
But
the
American
critics
merit
a
more
substantial
response.
So
why
might
we
still
want
to
have
research
training
specific
to
Translation
Studies?
Are
there
any
kinds
of
problems
that
do
indeed
concern
translation
more
than
anything
else?
If
so,
what
kinds
of
research
skills
are
required
to
meet
those
problems?
Here
I
move
on
to
slightly
more
interesting
parts
of
the
list.
2. Using
unstable
terms
One
of
the
surprising
things
to
emerge
from
my
exercise
was
the
number
of
times
the
evaluators
asked
for
clarification
of
some
fairly
basic
terms.
This
concerns
even
a
well- established
concept
like
norm,
which
since
Toury
(1995)
has
been
more
important
for
Translation
Studies
than
for
any
of
our
neighboring
disciplines.
No
matter
how
much
we
might
refer
back
to
Toury,
each
researcher
still
has
to
sort
out
whether
norms
are
qualitative,
as
in
rules
that
can
be
broken,
or
quantitative,
as
in
patterns
that
emerge
when
you
count
sets
of
things.
Failure
to
do
so
often
results
in
strange
mixes
of
methodologies
and
claims.
The
unnerving
thing,
though,
is
that
the
fault
is
not
so
much
with
the
student
researcher
as
with
a
We
agree
that
the
establishment
of
doctoral
programs
in
translation
and
interpreting
studies
is
a
highly
desirable
way
to
prepare
future
researchers
in
TIS.
However,
evidence
shows
that
this
can
also
be
successfully
accomplished
through
doctoral
programs
in
related
fields,
as
demonstrated
by
excellent
work
in
TIS
done
by
researchers
trained
through
other
types
of
programs.
(ATISA
2008) 2
For
example,
Claudia
Angelellis
dissertation
Deconstructing
the
Invisible
Interpreter
(2001)
was
carried
out
in
the
School
of
Education
at
Stanford;
Lauretta
Cloughs
Translating
Pierre
Bourdieu
(1998)
was
defended
in
the
French
program
at
the
University
of
Maryland.
1
discipline that has not taken enough time to form consensus around some quite fundamental notions. The concept of norms is in no way specific to translation, of course it has a lot to do with translation scholars as a group of people who, for a while, somehow thought that this one idea was all the sociology they needed, and they thus invested a whole lot of different things in it. Other terms like this include: - explicitation, which is used in many different senses and is not infrequently taken to mean explanation and sometimes specification; - translation strategies, which as a concept has grown to the point where it includes the things translators produce, the ways they produce them, the ways they think about producing them, and the things they generally aim to achieve; - culture-specific items, where no one is taking the time to say how they can test the specificity and/or prove the limits of a culture (these two operations mostly form a tautology: we have the same culture for as long as a set of culture-specific things are shared by us); - intentions, but here we get into hermeneutic problems, which we will meet below. Many more examples could be added. In all cases, the shortcoming is very probably more with the discipline (or lack of it) than with the student. And the quick solution is probably to insist that student researchers think seriously about the way they want to use the terms (i.e. which specific concepts they need to mobilize), and then provide their own working definitions. That is, we cannot require anyone to set about learning the meanings of technical words (what is lacking is not knowledge as such); we must make them realize that the terms themselves are in flux, authority is not established, and each researcher must be moderately pro-active in this respect. Of course, a longer-term solution should be for Translation Studies to start cleaning up its act. This means not just collecting the ways different terms have been used (as in Shuttleworth and Cowie 1997 or Palumbo 2009), but also recommending a few usages along the way (as I have started to do in Pym 2011). There is no need to impose fixed meanings for fixed words, as if we were already at the end of our discipline, in a conceptual paradise free of doubt, debate, and dynamism, but there is a need to reduce fruitless confusion. Gone are the days when we could claim these were the teething problems of a young discipline. We have grown moderately old, and our words are still not staying put. A minor correlative of terminological flux is the propensity among young researchers and the not-so-young to invent not just new terms, which is often quite justified, but to invent whole new avenues of research, not infrequently justified as turns, comprising a bare word or direction, devoid of identified problems or clear discovery procedures. The rate of these turns is becoming quite dizzying, and many of them should be considered symptoms of rather more than a terminological mess. 3. Cringing at bigger disciplines Most of the turns involve a desire to draw on insights or concepts from other academic disciplines. The cultural turn ran parallel to the rise of Cultural Studies; the social/sociological turn is basically a desire to apply the work of sociologists; a performative turn takes us into Performance Studies; and a hypothetical linguistic re-turn (Vandeweghe et al. 2007) would
bring
us
back
to
yet
another
master
discipline.
Now,
there
is
nothing
wrong
with
drawing
on
other
disciplines;
interdisciplinarity
is
a
very
healthy
thing.
Yet
it
sets
traps
for
beginners,
who
occasionally
disappear
into
quicksands.
Here
is
a
shortlist
of
what
can
happen:
- Believing
that
all
disciplines
say
the
same
thing:
For
example,
Bhabhas
third
space
in
Postcolonial
Studies
could
sound
like
Turner
and
Fauconniers
blended
space
in
cognitive
linguistics,
and
translation
can
possibly
be
seen
as
pervading
both
concepts,
so
its
all
one
blended
mess.
But
the
two
or
three
disciplines
are
working
on
quite
different
kinds
of
problems,
and
dealing
with
different
kinds
of
data.
If
you
are
going
to
throw
such
things
together,
you
must
also
remain
acutely
aware
of
their
differences.
Make
them
speak
to
each
other,
by
all
means,
but
you
cannot
say
they
are
all
the
same
thing.
- Playing
in
a
different
league:
The
opposite
to
the
above
is
to
see
one
disciplines
battles
as
informing
all
others.
For
example,
a
dissertation
that
defends
cognitive
linguistics
against
Chomsky
might
work
in
Linguistics,
but
it
is
not
saying
much
in
Translation
Studies.
No
matter
how
much
you
like
your
football
team,
you
must
be
aware
that
it
is
not
playing
in
all
the
leagues
at
the
same
time.
- Believing
there
is
only
one
representative
of
a
discipline.
A
variant
on
the
above
is
to
take
one
football
team
as
if
it
were
the
whole
league.
Thus
we
see
Bourdieu
being
used
as
the
whole
of
sociology,
or
Derrida
as
the
whole
of
philosophy.
Thus
uncontested,
they
are
heralded
into
Translation
Studies
as
bearers
of
established
truth.
In
all
these
cases,
the
remedy
is
to
ensure
that
students
know
a
lot
more
about
the
disciplines
they
are
working
with,
and
that
they
are
much
more
critical
of
the
apparent
authority
with
which
representatives
of
those
discipline
are
presumed
to
speak.
In
many
such
cases,
the
fundamental
problem
might
be
the
idea
that
Translation
Studies
basically
has
nothing
of
its
own
to
offer,
so
any
other
discipline
might
be
better
(rather
like
the
ATISA
position
outlined
above).
This
belief,
which
might
be
well-founded,
could
also
account
for
a
few
further
tendencies
to
be
appended
here:
- Disappearing
into
aporias:
Students
approaching
translation
from
the
perspective
of
idealist
philosophy,
anti-idealist
philosophy,
poetry
and
all
points
in-between
occasionally
slip
into
the
great
cosmological
desert
of
translation
being
impossible,
or
everything
being
translation,
or
translators
facing
dilemmas
that
no
one
can
resolve.
And
so
their
research
constantly
repeats
the
aporias,
since
there
is
nowhere
else
to
go.
- Disappearing
into
data:
The
opposite
of
the
above
is
to
collect
data
for
datas
sake,
somehow
in
the
belief
that
things
should
be
collected
if
and
when
they
have
not
been
collected
before.
For
instance,
it
is
possible
to
compare
the
successive
drafts
of
a
translation,
to
see
how
a
translator
has
worked.
But
will
that
identify
or
address
any
problem?
Will
it
find
an
interested
reader?
Something
further
is
required
if
we
are
to
move
beyond
tedious
descriptivism.3
- Extending
best
practices:
In
the
same
way
as
some
academic
disciplines
are
assumed
superior
and
worth
imitating,
so
some
countries
and
cultures
are
accorded
axiomatic
prestige.
Thus
we
find,
in
some
research
proposals,
the
belief
that
best
practices
have
been
established
in
the
advanced
post-industrial
economies
(for
example,
in
localization
An
associated
problem
here
is
the
tendency
to
count
linguistic
items
as
if
they
were
all
of
the
same
value,
imposing
quantitative
methods
on
intrinsically
qualitative
data.
For
example,
when
quantitative
corpus
analysis
shows
that
one
translation
is
more
literal
than
another,
and
yet
critical
reviews
all
say
the
opposite,
who
is
right?
3
workflows, ethics in healthcare interpreting, or text-revision practices), and those best practices should be implanted everywhere else. This becomes highly problematic if the researcher never asks what best means, why current practices are different, and why different societies might rationally choose to distribute their resources in different ways. Here we start approaching the grain. Extending vocational values: Similar to the above, unquestioned authority might be placed in values that are key to the various professions we study: things like efficiency, productivity, attribution of authorship, or linguistic accuracy thus enter as absolutes, since they operate that way in professional life. Research becomes an extension of the translation profession, taking up positions that annihilate the researchers critical capacity and blind many not only to the values of non-professional or volunteer translation, but also to the many good social alternatives to translation (starting from language learning and code-switching).
In all these cases, if you believe that Translation Studies has nothing to offer, then it certainly will have nothing to offer. We might as well be somewhere else: in sociology, literary studies, cognitive science, numbered index cards, the pinnacles of global capitalism, or sublime expert performance. In all these cases, shortcomings ensue because Translation Studies is assumed to have no problem of its own to solve. 4. The bugbear of quality In our small corpus of critical comments, the one term that keeps reappearing is quality. This is mostly because the word is used in an unqualified way to describe what a translation should be like, and this use often happens in main hypotheses (e.g. translator training is inadequate or, slightly better, presence of variable X correlates with better translations). The general shortcoming might be described as follows: - Believing that translation quality is self-evident. The remedy is, as with almost everything else, for the student to think more, in this case about what quality actually means in the context concerned, and how it can be tested. In most research designs this will lead to methodologies where quality is not measured directly by the researcher but is formulated by the subjects who are being studied. That is, quality becomes what some people think quality is. It may be based on ST-TT similarity, on usability of TT, on the translator following a set of instructions and respecting a glossary, or on simply meeting a set of expectations (see Chesterman 2008, which is a remarkably pedagogical video). In all these cases, quality becomes rigorously not self-evident problem solved. The issue of quality nevertheless merits special consideration here. The peculiar thing is not so much that it is frequently mentioned in our evaluations, but that it does not seem to be such a problem in most of our neighboring disciplines, or at least it is not a problem in the same way. A linguist would quite happily look at distribution in a corpus or a string of subjective judgments in order to describe well-formedness; a literary scholar is rarely called on these days to actually evaluate the worth of a text (that kind of thing is for critics); a serious sociologist or ethnographer is not about to produce a hierarchy of high quality societies or social groups. In sum, the problem of quality is something that Translation Studies has struggled with in a rather special and prolonged way. The reasons for this might be found in some of the reasons listed
above, particularly in what I have described as research trying to extend vocational values: since translators are concerned with producing and defending quality, it is felt that translation scholars should do the same thing; or again, since many scholars are also teachers of translation, the urge to correct and improve is poorly suppressed. Those might be social or psychological reasons behind a special engagement with quality, all of them ensuing from what I have described as a general disciplinary cringe. But I think it is worth digging a little deeper. 5. Hiding the position of the researcher The epistemological problem here basically concerns the belief that a piece of language has only one fixed meaning the meaning to which a translation can then be more or less adequate. That belief might be regarded as essentialism. As such, it has received massive philosophical critique for several generations, from camps as apparently wide apart as deconstruction and analytical philosophy. If a researcher must accept that a piece of language does not have just one fixed meaning, then all the suppositions about self-evident quality fall down like a house of cards. And yet different pieces of language do have different degrees of semantic stability. It is thus possible to make judgments about those pieces with different degrees of externality (understood here as the opposite of subjective involvement). Most of the methodological machinery we have in the social sciences is designed to support and enhance that externality. Thus we have the fixed concepts of a shared academic discipline; we use terms that are beyond common parlance (thus giving us a discipline in every sense of the word); we have the methodologies of surveys and interviews, the counting of things, the imposition of deceptively rigorous categories with supposedly clear dividing criteria, and the citing of opinions rather than the expressing of our own. This need for externality should explain why young translation scholars tend to attribute authority to other disciplines like Linguistics and Sociology: those disciplines look authoritative in their apparently absolute externality (at least until you meet a few linguists and sociologists). This might also explain why some beginner researchers mistakenly assume that our own terms are fixed and stable, and why, for example, the problem of quality is apparently solved by the citing (through the methodological machinery) of what others take quality to be. In a sense, becoming a discipline means assuming externality. And the underlying problem of Translation Studies, as a set of research skills, would seem to be the difficulty of assuming that externality. The repressed, however, returns. Just as the translation scholar has to interpret source texts and translations, since both in principle have multiple possible meanings, so any scholar has to interpret any piece of data, including the pronouncements of apparently authoritative disciplines. As Bourdieu admitted (1980: 22-23), we need the methodological paraphernalia like questionnaires and statistics, the best weapons developed by our predecessors, in order to promote the illusion of our own objectivity (cf. Pym 1995). The specificity of translation, I propose, is not the presence or absence of externality, but the heightened degree to which our externality is problematic. Precisely because we are working on translations, precisely because we are thus constantly straddling the borders between systems of relative stability, we are especially prone to methodological problems involving our subjective position. Because of this special location, the underlying shortcoming should be seen as the facile assumption of externality. Let me illustrate this briefly with two cases from published research, not from doctoral students, who have no need to be exposed in this way.
The first one is a critique I am shamelessly rehashing from elsewhere (Pym 2007). It concerns a passage in which the Princeton Professor Emily Apter analyzes a pseudotranslation by the American poet Kenneth Rexroth, who was imitating Japanese erotic verse written by women. The pseudotranslator Rexroth invented a Japanese woman poet named Marichiko. Now, Apter uses the machinery of text analysis and literary criticism to compare the pseudotranslation with a poem by the real Japanese woman poet Yosano Akiko. The researcher finds that the sexual realism of the Marichiko texts to be more graphic, more prone to Orientalist kitsch. [] On close scrutiny the Marichiko poems fall apart as credible simulations of Japanese womens writing (2006: 218-219). That is, the real poem is better than the pseudotranslation. That would be acceptable enough as a piece of literary criticism. Unfortunately, Apter goes on to make general points about translation, lapsing into uncontrolled theorizing: The revelation of a translational false coin leaves the reader aware of the dimension of epistemological scam or faked-up alterity inherent in all translation; and then comes the grand critique: The translation business is geared to keeping this scam from view, for it wants to convince readers that when it markets an author in translation, the translated text will be a truly serviceable stand-in for the original (2006: 220). So what could possibly be wrong here? Apter has based all of her analysis and critique on the assumption that the non- pseudotranslation, the poem by Akiko, was authentic as Japanese womens writing. That is where she has pinned her essentialism and staked out her externality she knows something that the translation industry apparently does not. Of course, the poem by Akiko was a translation (Apter does not tackle any Japanese), and was of course translated by Rexroth (the same man who penned the apparently inferior pseudotranslation). So the entire critique of translation as being a false scam is based on a translation that is accepted as having authentic value. And Apter apparently never saw the problem. She thought her position as a reader was somehow above the workings of translation itself. My second example concerns research on mistranslations in a Spanish court. Taysir Alony, an Al-Jazeera reporter born in Syria and naturalized Spanish, interviewed Osama bin Laden after the 9/11 attacks. He was later accused in Spain of collaborating with a terrorist organization, and the accusation was partly based on translations of taped telephone conversations. Anne Martin and Mustapha Taibi (2010) have analyzed several examples from those translations, using them to criticize very correctly the generally poor status of translators and interpreters in the Spanish justice system. For example, they find that the term abu shabab, which we are told means mate or friend in the Aleppo region of Syria, was rendered in Spain as leader of a group of young people (since in general Arabic abu means father and shabab means group of people). So when Alony was called abu shabab in a taped conversation, this was mistakenly construed as evidence that he was the leader of a terrorist cell. So far, so good or so bad. The researchers then argue that what clearly shows the framing of this word shabab in terms of the Guerra contra el Terrorismo is the series of questions asked by the judge and fiscal: immediately after questions about the young men, there come the questions What is Jihad for you? and What does Al Qaeda mean? (2010: 220). That is, the mistranslation informed the judges questions in the trial, creating a climate of guilt that was made to fit the US ideology of a War against Terror. In more general terms, translation functioned here as situation management or selective appropriation, seriously compromising justice. So what could possibly be wrong with this research? Nothing at all is wrong with the researchers good intentions. And nothing is particularly outrageous with their essentialist reading of the Arabic fragments, even though that understanding is particularly partisan in
context:
the
proposed
meaning
of
abu
shabab
would
indeed
appear
to
be
stable
enough.4
And
one
could
scarcely
complain
about
the
inevitable
one-sidedness
of
the
research
process:
since
neither
of
the
researchers
is
from
Syria,
and
neither
had
access
to
the
original
tapes
of
the
conversations
(the
tapes
were
mysteriously
lost
by
the
Spanish
justice
system),
their
most
likely
route
to
the
stable
meaning
of
the
texts
was
through
the
defendant,
since
Alony
himself,
who
had
worked
as
a
translator,
had
the
bad
translations
publicly
questioned
and
eventually
had
them
thrown
out
of
court.
The
researchers
are
inevitably
elaborating
the
truth
of
the
accused
-
they
explicitly
acknowledge
the
help
received
from
Alonys
attorney
and
wife.
A
certain
partisanship
was
thus
unavoidable
(you
seek
help
where
help
is
available).
There
is
nothing
at
all
wrong
with
that.
The
problem,
however,
comes
when
the
researchers
assume
that
the
judges
questions,
which
could
conceivably
be
seen
as
much-needed
checks
on
the
veracity
of
the
disastrous
translations,
were
in
fact
quite
the
opposite:
here
those
questions
are
willfully
interpreted
as
evidence
of
the
way
the
translations,
despite
being
discounted,
shaped
the
course
of
the
trial.
There
was
apparently
just
the
one
climate
of
guilt,
which
was
framed
by
just
the
one
War
on
Terror.
That
is
where
the
researchers
have
pinned
their
methodological
essentialism;
that
is
where
they
have
staked
out
a
simplistic
exteriority;
that
is
where
they
have
precariously
assumed
that
an
internally
complex
system
speaks
and
acts
with
just
one
voice,
with
just
one
intention.
Indeed,
that
is
where
binary
categorization
(innocent
accused
here;
guilty
system
there),
as
in
so
much
engaged
narrative
critique,
in
fact
gives
the
finding
before
the
research
is
done.
An
utterance
on
one
side
(abu
shabab)
is
worth
investigating
in
contextual
detail;
utterances
on
the
other
side
(the
courtroom
questions)
merit
no
such
consideration.
And
since
the
authors
start
from
that
ideological
divide,
no
credit
is
given
to
the
justice
system
for
having
eventually
recognized
the
mistranslations;
no
evidence
is
given
for
the
blunt
assumption
that
the
only
pertinent
context
was
the
US-led
War
on
Terror5,
a
frame
that
might
actually
have
more
to
do
with
the
place
where
the
researchers
first
published
their
work,
as
part
of
a
group
of
activist
researchers
working
on
activist
translation.6
The
purely
methodological
fault
is
not
to
apply
the
same
hermeneutics
to
statements
on
both
sides.
It
is
a
fault
because
it
compromises
any
illusory
trustworthiness
of
the
research,
and
thus
its
capacity
to
act
upon
the
system
it
talks
about.
Now,
journalists
are
trained
to
seek
both
sides
of
a
story
and
to
use
the
same
methods
each
time
that
would
surely
have
been
the
best
justification
for
anyone
to
interview
Osama
bin
Laden.
These
translation
researchers
seem
not
to
have
been
interested
in
any
such
opening
to
dialogue.
In
this
case,
there
is
no
comfortable
exteriority:
the
researchers
were
inevitably
involved
in
the
object
of
study,
as
indeed
was
Alony.
Note
that
an
expert
from
the
University
of
Granada
(the
same
university
as
one
of
the
researchers)
was
called
in
to
comment
on
the
laughable
My
own
informant
from
the
Aleppo
region
states
that
abu
shabab
is
used
in
the
way
that
a
respect-filled
mate
might
be
used
in
Cockney
or
Australian
English.
5
The
term
War
on
Terror
tellingly
has
no
fixed
translation
into
Spanish:
the
Guerra
contra
el
Terrorismo
referred
to
by
the
researchers
might
also
be
seen
as
the
long-standing
Spanish
fight
against
terrorism
from
Basque
independent
movement,
as
indeed
might
the
laws
under
which
Alony
was
prosecuted.
A
culture
whose
judicial
system
and
procedures
date
back
to
the
Inquisition
has
no
need
to
import
all
its
ignominious
ignorance
of
alterity. 6
Martin
and
Taibi
finish
their
article
by
citing
Maria
Tymoczko,
translation
is
a
partisan
activity,
and
they
might
happily
add
that
translation
research
is
also
a
partisan
activity.
However,
they
are
clearly
uncomfortable
with
outright
partisanship
by
translators
in
the
justice
system:
they
do
reproduce
the
ideal
of
a
faithful
translation
(as
not
being
the
same
thing
as
a
literal
translation)
and
they
state
that
neutrality
is
complex,
without
ever
actually
saying
that
it
is
impossible
(as
I
suspect
they
should).
If
you
radically
believe
that
all
attempts
at
neutrality
merely
reproduce
the
dominant
discourse
of
the
dominant
social
powers
(2010:
224),
then
you
should
probably
not
participate
in
any
justice
system
and
you
should
start
planting
bombs.
More
thought
is
required.
4
translations; and the ensuing public criticism was probably the reason why the justice system paid impeccable attention to translators and interpreters at the trials that followed the 2004 Madrid train bombings (as the researchers do indeed recognize). Criticism and research is part of the translation institution; we are in the object of study. In fact, critical reflection could have taken the researchers further in this sense. If they had considered the demographic reasons why many translators and interpreters working for the justice system are mostly untrained, they might have realized that very few training programs are easily accessible to those paraprofessionals in the language combinations required, and that part of any future improvement must involve the very training institutions in which the researchers work. Instead of recognizing this implication, here we have one-sided condemnation. No attempt is made to decide whether this is a case of translatorial incompetence or inquisitorial manipulation it is both, apparently, and at the same time, since only the researchers side knows and appreciates the motivations behind courtroom questions, and all else is global ignorance. In this case, the researchers themselves are transparently engaging in situation management and selective appropriation their essentialist interpretation of the judges questions is no more neutral than are the errors made by the translators and judicial officials whose work they rightly lament. (I take this example from Spain so as not to presume to know about South Africa. But it should be very clear that if you are doing research on translation to or from Afrikaans, or any other official language of South Africa, you are immediately part of cultural politics: translators and researchers are both in the same department, with the same training, and are often the same person the illusory comfort of externality is simply not available.) How should researchers avoid these methodological pitfalls? Beyond a very basic ethics of respect for the other, the skills to be developed, I suggest, involve an acute and subtle capacity for self-reflection and self-critique, which should be part-and-parcel of openness to research as a collective creation of knowledge. Those skills should extend well beyond the expanding art of writing research as propaganda. Conclusion: What we need training in The long list of shortcomings, many of them quite fundamental, probably suggests we need training in everything. Of course, not all researchers need all the skills, and many of the problems can be solved by sending doctoral students to general training programs in the social sciences (if and when such programs are available). At the same time, I have argued that the problems of translation research are particularly marked by issues of quality, by a heightened degree of cultural relativism, and by the need to reflect on any apparent externality. In short, translation research, by its very nature, requires a strong hermeneutic component (if we can recuperate the full ethical and political dimensions of what that means). The ATISA critique of doctoral programs in Translation Studies claimed that [] many of the more "traditional" programs in TIS [Translation and Interpreting Studies], including many of those existing in Europe, have unfortunately isolated themselves from relevant research and theory in other disciplines. For this reason, many students graduating from these programs are unprepared to conduct the rigorous, principled research essential to informing and growing the field of translation and interpreting studies. [] Graduating TS PhDs who are unable to produce work that meets the general standards of other fields can do more harm to TS than not producing
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them. (2008) Those are fighting words; they merit a vigorous reply. When ATISA refers to rigorous, principled research and the general standards of other fields, they somehow assume that research is the one thing, across the board, in any discipline. To a degree, they are quite right: the vast majority of our shortcomings do indeed concern the transgressing of general scientific principles and a failure to meet widely accepted standards: everything in the first three sections above would fall into that wide basket. At the same time, however, if the particular position of translation research with respect to quality, relativity and externality is not recognized that is, if all research is simply a question of meeting general standards inherited from positivist behaviorism then the American critique risks radically de-intellectualizing Translation Studies, reducing a dynamic and socially engaged discipline to an affair of standardized data-processing. Acknowledgements Many thanks to Andrew Chesterman, Carlos Teixeira and Lauretta Clough for comments on earlier drafts of this text. References ATISA. 2008. Statement on PhD training in Translation and Interpreting Studies. November 14, 2008: http://groups.yahoo.com/group/itit/message/2035. Accessed March 2012. Bourdieu, Pierre. 1980. Une science qui drange. Interview with Pierre Thuillier, La Recherche 112 (June 1980). Reprinted in Questions de sociologie. Paris: Minuit. 19-36. Chesterman, Andrew. 2008. Functional quality. Video lecture at http://www.facebook.com/video/video.php?v=1082863408296. Accessed March 2012. Martin, Anne and Mustapha Taibi. 2010. Traduccin e interpretacin policial en contextos politizados: El caso de Taysir Alouny. Julie Bori and Carol Maier (eds) Compromiso social y traduccin/interpretacin -Translation/Interpreting and Social Activism. Granada: ECOS. 214-225. English version as Court translation and interpreting in times of the War on Terror: The case of Taysir Alony, Translation & Interpreting 4/1 (2012): 77-98. http://www.trans-int.org/index.php/transint/article/view/194. Accessed November 2012. Page references herein are to the Spanish version. Palumbo, Giuseppe. 2009. Key terms in Translation Studies. London and New York: Continuum. Pym, Anthony. 1995. European Translation Studies, une science qui drange, and Why Equivalence Neednt Be a Dirty Word, TTR 8/1: 153-176. Pym, Anthony. 2007. Review of Emily Apter The Translation Zone. A New Comparative Literature. Target 19/1:177-182. Pym, Anthony. 2011. Translation research terms a tentative glossary for moments of perplexity and dispute. In Anthony Pym (ed.) Translation Research Projects 3. Tarragona: Intercultural Studies Group. 75-99. Shuttleworth, Mark, and Moira Cowie. 1997. Dictionary of Translation Studies. Manchester: St Jerome. Toury, Gideon. 1995. Descriptive Translation Studies and beyond. Amsterdam and Philadelphia: Benjamins.
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Vandeweghe, Willy, Sonia Vandepitte, Marc Van de Velde. 2007. Introduction: A Linguistic Re- turn in Translation Studies?. Belgian Journal of Linguistics 21/1: 1-10.
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