Empathy and dialogue: Embracing the art of creative review

Abstract

Imagine the moment you first encounter a piece of creative ethnography—a poem, a performance, an image—that speaks to the heart of human experience in ways that traditional academic texts rarely do. It moves you, challenges you, perhaps unsettles you. But what happens next? Do you simply appreciate the work and walk away, or is there something deeper at stake in this encounter? What if, instead, we view this moment as an invitation—a call to engage in the same kind of rigorous dialogue that shapes the world of scholarly research, but with a spirit of openness and collaboration?

Creative work, like traditional scholarship, thrives on exchange, and peer review, is not just a procedural task. It is an act of co-creation, a chance to enter into conversation with the work and its creator, to shape and be shaped by the process. What if we could reimagine peer review not as a box-ticking exercise, but as a space for creative and intellectual growth—for both the reviewer and the reviewed?

This is where we begin: with the idea that peer review, when applied to creative anthropology, can be a transformative practice, one that pushes beyond the rigid confines of conventional academic evaluation and into something more expansive, more generous. But how do we get there? How do we move from skepticism to possibility, from critique to collaboration?

Creative work in anthropology is far from a new phenomenon. For as long as there have been anthropologists, there have been those who've felt the itch to push beyond academic forms, to scratch at the edges of what's possible, to seek out other ways of evoking the complexity of life. These anthropologists have always been there, quietly or boldly experimenting with mediums outside the standard forms of the journal article and monograph—exploring poetry, visual art, performance, film. But still, we know there are those who will scoff, who will say this isn't “real” anthropology. And we also know that “creative” as a term is loaded with its own set of assumptions, its own baggage—romanticized, dismissed, misunderstood, or misused.

Perhaps we might call these works “non-standard,” or “experimental,” or simply “other” but we think that would disregard the long presence of the creative in anthropology. Some are breaking new ground; others are drawing from established artistic genres but are still perceived as unconventional within the discipline proper. But here's the thing—there's a long history in anthropology of seeing writing itself as more than just a way to present findings. Writing is part of the process, a way of thinking through the work, of evoking the experiences of life. So why wouldn't these forms of writing, or alternative modes of communication, open up new ways of knowing? Creative texts aren't just about describing the world more evocatively; they too are about exploring, analyzing, and theorizing.

We're not suggesting that creative anthropology is superior to the traditional forms we're familiar with. But we are making the case that it is equal. These works often ask the same questions, engage with the same intellectual challenges—they just take different routes to get there. That's why we need to take creative works seriously, holding them to the same standards of rigor and commitment as any other scholarly output, while also respecting the specific tools and strategies they bring to bear. A peer review process that honors such equality doesn't lower the bar—it expands the field.

Anthropology, after all, never follows a single road. Its research takes us down countless forked paths, so why shouldn't our modes of communicating follow suit? We advocate for diversity and plurality not just in what we study, but also in how we articulate our findings. Some may find deep pleasure in the rigor of academic prose, while others will struggle with its density, looking for another way in. Creative anthropology has the potential to show us that all scholarly work involves creativity—and to push us to broaden our definition of what counts as “creative” or “scholarly” in the first place, to open up what can be acknowledged as knowledge.

Creative work, by its very nature, complicates the politics of citation, as it pushes against the rigid boundaries that define legitimacy in academic discourse. By overlooking creative forms as scholarly texts, we risk reinforcing the same exclusionary hierarchies that have long marginalized voices based on race, gender, and other identities, further entrenching narrow definitions of knowledge and authority in the field. Reviewing creative work, then, becomes a radical act—one that can challenge the very foundation of what is considered “knowledge” in anthropology, by allowing this work to be taken seriously and cited by other scholars. Indeed, to cite creative work is to validate it as part of the scholarly ecosystem. This validation is crucial not just for the recognition of individual scholars but for the broader recognition of creative methodologies as legitimate forms of anthropological inquiry.

We don't intend to settle debates about the boundaries between fiction and ethnography, art and anthropology, or other similar debates, though we also don't aim to dissolve them entirely. Instead, we argue that the creative process—undertaken with ethical and intellectual seriousness—is “proper” anthropology too. It demands the same political and scholarly accountability. It holds the same responsibility to interlocutors and contributors. And it offers contributions to anthropological knowledge that are no less substantive, often through affective or non-rational modes of argumentation. There's more potential: creative work can make anthropology accessible, engaging not just fellow scholars but students, wider publics, and those on the edges of academic life.

Finally, we believe that subjecting creative work to rigorous peer review enhances its legitimacy within the field. If we truly see value in these pieces, then they should be equally citable, and worthy of being included in the scholarly conversation. These outputs should sit equally on CVs, count toward promotions, and be recognized as rigorous, specialized contributions to anthropology. The peer review process—through dialogue, revision, and critical reflection—ensures that creative work meets the high standards we expect of all scholarship.

Who, then, is best positioned to review creative work? (see our Allegra and A and H creative peer review guides here) The answer does not rest solely with those who have mastery over a particular genre or technical expertise. In fact, there is a compelling argument that approaching a creative piece from a place of “non-understanding” can be advantageous. Much like seasoned scholars grappling with dense theoretical texts or abstract ideas, reviewers of creative work may find that their struggle with the unfamiliar yields insights that those immersed in the technical details of the genre might overlook. This discomfort or disorientation, rather than being a flaw, opens up new spaces for interpretation and fresh questions about the nature of meaning, form, and the boundaries of inquiry within anthropology.

Creative work resists easy comprehension or neat categorization. It is designed to provoke, unsettle, and disrupt. A reviewer who acknowledges that they do not fully “get” the piece, but remains open to its experience, may be in an ideal position to engage in the kind of generative dialogue that creative work demands. Much like engaging with a scholarly text laden with impenetrable jargon, the challenge of creative work invites the reviewer to look beyond the surface, to ask not only what the work is but what it does—how it moves, how it unsettles, what it makes possible. In this way, creative work defies any fixed or final reading, and so too should its review process.

This is why creative review should not be the exclusive domain of genre specialists. It belongs to anyone attuned to the value of exploration, imagination, and dialogue within scholarly work. The reviewer's role is not to master the work or decipher it fully but to engage thoughtfully with the possibilities it presents. What does the work provoke? What conversations does it inspire? What forms of knowledge and experience does it disrupt or make visible? These are the critical questions in reviewing creative work, and they shift the emphasis from technical precision to intellectual engagement. In doing so, they democratize the role of the reviewer and invite a broader community of scholars into the conversation. What if we considered creative work as a legitimate site for theory-making, for pushing the boundaries of what anthropology can be? Embracing this approach, the reviewer's role is not merely evaluative but participatory. They become co-creators of meaning, shaping the discourse around the work in ways that invite further inquiry.

This shift forces us to reconsider what is deemed “reviewable” within anthropology. Just as anthropology has expanded its methodological toolkit to include forms such as ethnographic film, graphic narratives, and performance, so too must its modes of critique evolve. Reviewers must engage with the spirit of creative work—its explorations, its risks, and its refusal to fit neatly within existing paradigms.

Creative review demands a shift in the culture of peer review itself. Traditionally, the process has been framed as an exercise in gatekeeping, a method to uphold scholarly standards by evaluating a work's methodological rigor or theoretical contribution. But when it comes to creative work, the review process must become more dialogical, more open-ended. In fact, the very act of reviewing creative work might lead reviewers to reconsider their own assumptions about what constitutes anthropology. Engaging with creative work can bring to light the tensions between form and content, between the visual, auditory, or performative elements of a piece and its anthropological significance. To review creative work is to participate in an ongoing conversation—one that acknowledges the fallibility of understanding, the provisionality of interpretation, and the generative possibilities of intellectual and creative exchange. In this way, creative peer review becomes a vital part of anthropology's future, pushing the discipline toward a more expansive, inclusive, and imaginative horizon.

Peer reviewing of creative anthropological work requires a particular mode of encounter. It is an invitation, an attempt to foster imagination; both of the individual creators and readers, and of the discipline as a whole. We posit creative anthropological peer review as an exercise in critical empathy. Here, we follow Andrea Lobb's reading of “critical empathy” which attempts to recuperate some form of empathy while recognizing the “irreducible imbrication of empathy and power” (Lobb, 2017, p. 1). In this vein, we can understand critical empathy as an act that involves both emotional and intellectual resonance, one that remains acutely conscious of power relations. This form of empathy is not passive; it requires stepping beyond observation and into an embodied sense of another's experience, feeling its way forward without losing sight of context or consequence. It is about actively engaging with the layers of meaning, the tensions, and the unresolved questions that the work presents.

Hollan and Throop (2008, p. 387) describe empathy as a “first-person-like perspective on another that involves an emotional, embodied, or experiential aspect.” When we produce creative work, we reveal parts of ourselves—our uncertainties, our questions, our dreams—that may not fit neatly within academic frameworks. This act of exposure is both risky and courageous, requiring us to confront and perhaps change our assumptions about knowledge, expertise, and authority. In the context of creative peer review, empathy might then mean that reviewers aim to not only appreciate the form and content of a piece, but also imagine themselves into the world it presents, being mindful of how power structures shape both the production and reception of the work. It requires a balance between feeling and understanding—a fusion of emotional attunement and analytical insight. This can look like a willingness to engage with the work on its own terms, to sit with ambiguity, and to recognize that their role is not to dictate but to dialogue, to respond, and to nurture.

Critical empathy requires immersion in a piece of work, an opening of sensibilities that values the textures, rhythms, tensions and nuances in form, approach, and representation. It's an act of seeing beyond the surface, recognizing the layers of thought, emotion, and craft that have gone into creating something that defies traditional academic genres and boundaries. In this way, the review becomes more than an evaluation; it's a conversation, one that respects the vulnerability embedded in creative work. Such a practice asks reviewers to lean into ambiguity, to honor what might be unresolved or provocative, rather than taming it to fit familiar categories. Here, the act of review itself transforms—no longer merely a judgment, but an act of care and discernment, and of recognition of both the piece and the person. When reviewers allow themselves to be touched by the work's textures and echoes, they uphold a generosity that mirrors the openness required to produce it.

Critical empathy requires imagination; the two are co-constitutive. To be an empathetic reviewer, one must be able to imagine the deeper lifeworld which the artist is revealing. Good art always demands imaginative interpretation from its audience, it shows but does not tell. Just as the art works to open the imagination of its audience, the reviewer must allow their artistic intuition, heart, and spirit to inform their critical feedback. Nurturing critical empathy in ourselves and others demands more than simply listening or understanding—it requires us to engage with complexity, to allow creative work to challenge and reshape our perspectives. It is an intellectual and emotional practice, one that insists on confronting ambiguity and sitting with the tensions that arise from creative expression. To foster critical empathy is to open ourselves to the rigorous work of interpretation while maintaining an openness to being changed in the process. In this way, critical empathy becomes a tool for expanding the boundaries of scholarship and deepening our collective inquiry, all while preserving the intellectual rigor that drives creative and anthropological pursuits.

Critical empathy also acknowledges the fallibility of understanding. Just as Hollan and Throop (2008) note, the limits of empathic engagement is that it is always an incomplete and dialogical process. Reviewers should thus approach creative work with the humility to know that their interpretations are only one possible reading. This recognition creates space for a creative peer review process that is expansive, one that values creative exploration as a legitimate form of knowledge production. Recognizing the limitations of our own interpretations thus invites a more expansive, thoughtful approach to peer review—one that embraces creative work not as a puzzle to be solved, but as a space for ongoing inquiry and dialogue, and for shared discovery. A space for exploration rather than resolution. By valuing creative exploration as a legitimate form of knowledge production in this way, we open ourselves to a more dynamic and flexible understanding of scholarship. This approach shifts the role of the reviewer from gatekeeper to a participant or collaborator, which in turn can help foster an intellectual environment where both critique and creativity thrive.

Creative pieces aren't problems to be solved, but opportunities to think differently, to expand the ways we approach knowledge production. Empathy here is not about softening critique, but about understanding the work on its own terms, with intellectual openness. In this way, we shift the field toward a more inclusive and dynamic form of scholarship, one that honors the intertwined nature of creativity, theory, and inquiry. By doing so, we acknowledge the richness that comes from working across forms and voices, allowing anthropology to continue evolving in ways that are both rigorous and capacious.

Imagine now that you are reading a review of your own creative anthropological piece. What does it mean for you to have this feedback? How does it feel to read it? How can you take it forward now, to respond and revise? Could you be as open to their reflections as they (hopefully) were to your work? It's a scary process putting our creative work into the world, and that's why we need a supportive and generous community in which to do it. We hope that our ruminations on creative anthropology in the text above inspire you to not open up to review creatively, but also to take the creative path in anthropology ourselves.

It suggests an approach that doesn't simply preserve what's “new” in anthropology but crafts an ethos of hospitality, where knowledge is held loosely enough to accommodate perspectives that conventional frameworks might dismiss as indeterminate or incomplete. What emerges is an anthropology alert to the unsettled, the tentative, and the contingent—an approach capable of capturing the world's complexity without flattening it into certainty. As such creative work doesn't merely find a place in the field to settle; it reshapes it, infusing it with an ethical commitment to encounter rather than enclosure. This is not a project of inclusion but of transformation, a practice that keeps anthropology alive to the world it seeks to know.