Over at the Slate book club, Alan Wolfe and Tyler Cowen are debating the merits of Barbara Ehrenreich’s Bait and Switch, in which she tries to find out how hard things are for the middle class by looking for work as a publicist. Or pretending to, anyway; as with her earlier hit, Nickel and Dimed, Ehrenreich dons a fake identity in a lower class bracket to uncover what the simple folk do. Cowen says a big part of Ehrenreich’s problem is that she has no idea how to look for a job: “What would you–as a rational employer–make of a 60ish-year-old woman who appears out of nowhere and has no pre-existing contacts, offers, or networks?” Wolfe disliked the book even more intensely, citing “her tendency to lecture those who lack her presumably superior understanding of how the world works.”
Over at his blog, Ed Champion asks “the real question” about this sort of stunt writing: “Is putting one’s self through various hardships the new form of ‘scholarship’ for a popular nonfiction title? Further, have we reached a point where polemics must be driven by a personality (in this case, the self-styled Barbara Alexander) rather than the bigger picture (burgeoning unemployment among middle-class professionals)?” And I said to myself, what does AJ Jacobs think about that? After all, here’s a guy who’s willing to spend a year of his life adhering to biblical law for a book deal.
“It’s an interesting topic,” he emailed. “Here’s my plan on how to address it: I’m going to spend a month reading every book by someone who has done a first-person experiment–Bait and Switch, Black Like Me, Early Bird, my own book, etc. Then I’ll read a bunch of scientific studies that cover the same topics. Then I’ll write a book about how the two reading experiences differ, and which is more illuminating.”
You can read his serious answer after the jump–and if you’re a publishing insider with a strong opinion about this subject, tell me how you feel.
AJ Jacobs: “You asked if a first-person stunt can make for effective social critique as opposed to being strictly entertainment. I say yes. Absolutely. These books are not science, and probably shouldn’t replace good old randomized controlled trials. But they can, sometimes, transcend entertainment. They can buttress the science, raise awareness, help change society for the better. Unless you have an irrational hatred of Morgan Spurlock’s facial hair, I think you have to admit that Supersize Me contributed to the backlash against LDL-loaded burgers and fries.
“Mind you, this is not a new trend. One of my heroes is the great 19th-century reporter Nellie Bly, a very early stunt journalist. She went undercover as a patient in a mental hospital for 10 days, and her article about the horrible conditions inspired reforms.
“The Year of Living Biblically will, I hope, be entertaining. But I’m also genuinely interested in finding out what aspects of the Bible are wise and profound, and what parts are maybe not so relevant to modern life. I’m finding the experiment fascinating and enlightening. And I don’t think I could have had the same insights without this first-person method. Look at it this way: If you want to know about Paris, you can read the census results from the French government. Or you can go to Paris and stroll through the Luxembourg Gardens and eat their croissants. Both approaches have their place.”