Intentional allyship at the intersection: Moving the human sciences forward

Many years ago, my graduate mentor, Jay Belsky, said something to me that has stuck with me throughout my career: “Ideas that move us forward are found at the intersection.” Indeed, this sentiment has been in my thoughts as I have read and reflected on “Human Development and Family Science: A Story of Disciplinary Fragmentation and Kinship.” Dyer weaves a thought-provoking narrative of many intersections: the past and present; personal journey and disciplinary evolution; disciplinary fragmentation and new disciplinary alignment; identity, power, and the history of women in the academy; place and time; discovery and application; and a few more. There is much food for thought here, and I appreciate the opportunity to comment on this intriguing paper. Dyer's core thesis invites the field to collective and intentional action surrounding the future identity of human development and family science (HDFS). Building on her analysis, I aim to broaden the perspective and opportunity that this article provides through consideration of the broader human sciences field, which is amidst a similar evolutionary step. Without a doubt, HDFS is at the center of these changes and applying a kinship framework to the future not only will benefit HDFS but position the broader human sciences for the future.

First, I will put my identities on the table. I received my masters and PhD degrees in Human Development and Family Studies from Penn State, an outstanding program in a research-intensive, land-grant university. I have been a faculty member or administrator in R1 public universities my entire career, with a greater amount of time spent in R1 land-grant institutions. I currently serve as dean of the College of Health and Human Sciences at Colorado State University. I am a tenured professor in HDFS and served for 13 years as the department head of HDFS prior to becoming dean. Finally, I have the privilege of serving as vice-chair of the Board on Health and Human Sciences (BHHS) at the Association for Public and Land Grant Universities (APLU). Our identities and journeys influence our narratives, and it is important for me to state mine.

Through a rich historical overview of the disciplinary evolution from home economics to human development and family science, Dyer illustrates the current state of HDFS as one of identity crisis and decreased visibility on campuses, posing what she terms a great threat to the vitality of HDFS in higher education. She is careful to state that this narrative may be somewhat different for HDFS departments in research intensive institutions or other contexts (and I would argue in institutions with large HDFS undergraduate programs, which have direct revenue benefits), and I agree with this caveat. Nevertheless, her point is extremely well taken that there is work ahead in defining the forward-looking identity, relevance, and value of HDFS to campuses and the broader academy. In response to the challenge she poses, Dyer strategically advocates for embracing unifying identities that transcend disciplinary boundaries. In this case, she suggests the inclusive departmental identity of human development and family science is a more productive approach to staking identity ground than separating on either disciplinary identity, and she argues that a framework that espouses kinship metaphors is more productive than typical territorial ones. I could not agree more, although I might further suggest that this kinship has already forged a singular and largely, although perhaps not universally, recognized HDFS discipline. Indeed, the broader field of the human sciences has seen similar changes and enjoys a similar opportunity for advocacy, and my goal in this response is to join forces as kin in this discussion and elevate the discussion of HDFS to this broader level.

Similar to Dyer's argument related to human development and family science, the broader field of human sciences is at an interesting nexus for the future, influenced by the same themes in its rich and fragmented history. Fields such as apparel and textiles, human nutrition, and others that originated under the home economics moniker have, in many cases, separated to new homes as independent majors/programs/departments, and yet with no less claim to their origin in home economics. Their journeys have been different perhaps, but HDFS shares core DNA with these fields. Thus, I challenge her point that HDFS is “the” evolutionary home of home economics, and instead reframe this territorial argument to one of kinship—that by working together in our broad human sciences field, we may find critical opportunity to define ourselves and claim visibility and vitality in new ways that address key challenges of the modern age.

A recent white paper from APLU's Board on Health and Human Sciences, of which I am part, traces the field's broadening evolution from home economics to human sciences to a newly rebranded focus on health and human sciences (Porfeli et al., 2024). For over 150 years, the human sciences have been engaged in basic and translational science to improve the well-being of individuals, families, and communities, engaging where people live, learn, work, and play. This history is evidenced in a multitude of disciplines including lifespan development, early childhood education, gerontology, family science, food safety, nutrition, financial management, consumer economics, clothing and product development and design, kinesiology, recreation, and hospitality—and this list is not complete. Typically, these disciplines have been housed in versions of a College of Human Sciences, although there is wide variability in how these colleges are organized and named.

Complicating matters, as these disciplines have themselves grown and evolved, some have found homes in other disciplinary colleges (e.g., design and merchandising in colleges of business; food science and human nutrition in colleges of agriculture, or split between colleges with nutrition in human sciences and food science in agriculture; human development and family science in colleges of agriculture; and so forth). As well, the human sciences field has found, over time, new kin (education and even construction management). Indeed, the landscape of colleges of human sciences is continuing to organically change across the nation, with an increasing number of colleges rebranding to health and human sciences. While the human sciences have always centered human health and well-being in our disciplines, an explicit identity statement that includes health with human sciences intentionally brings together knowledge from across disciplines to advance the frontier of global health and wellness at the individual, community, and societal levels. This action will bring new partners to the field, perhaps involving the inclusion of allied health professions in these colleges (e.g., social work and nursing), along with increasing collaborations with other disciplines (e.g., business, STEM fields, agriculture, healthcare) as we increasingly recognize that understanding human behavior in context is essential to understanding and responding to a wide variety of health outcomes and societal challenges. Our evolution from home economics poises us for this future, and it is incumbent on us to come together and demonstrate the importance and vitality of our collective work toward this goal.

So, where do we stand and where do we go? Dyer suggests HDFS is in the midst of an identity crisis. While I might rephrase crisis to opportunity, so, too, might we say the same for the broader human sciences. She calls for collective action that allows for a more intentional and unified voice in advocacy on campuses for the importance and visibility of the field. As we do so, I believe that we need to engage in intentional strategy in several areas.

First, I agree with Dyer's premise for defining disciplinary strength in a pragmatic way. This makes immediate sense in the context of HDFS. Such practicality becomes more complicated when we broaden the lens to health and human sciences. Critical questions demand intentional thought, such as What are the disciplines we refer to? Where should these disciplines be located? Does it matter whether we are in one college, or united across colleges in some flexible but no less powerful way? Regardless of location, how do we unite our strengths into a structure and professional identity that allows us to speak as one voice as do other broad disciplines (e.g., agriculture; engineering; medicine), while still respecting and elevating each unique discipline? In other words, how do we talk about food science, child development, and construction management in the same health and human science breath?

I believe this is one of the greatest challenges we face and our biggest opportunity for advocacy. For example, I am the dean of a College of Health and Human Sciences that includes human development and family studies, design and merchandising, food science and human nutrition, health and exercise science, education, social work, occupational therapy, and construction management. We revolve around a unifying mission of improving the health and well-being of people, their communities, and the environments in which they live. We are the current evolution of the merger of the colleges of home economics and applied professions, that first became the College of Applied Human Sciences and then the College of Health and Human Sciences. As far as I have been able to discern, we are the only College of Health and Human Sciences with this array of disciplines, including the only college of this lineage to contain construction management, although our identity of containing an interesting array of disciplines is not unique. There is strength in finding a unifying message about healthy people, communities, and environments, and as a field we need to articulate this more clearly and more holistically.

Second, we need to elevate our story to one of science first, then application. I argue that historically, in HDFS as well as the broader human sciences, we have elevated application. We talk about our fields as “applied science” and in this, I believe, we have inadvertently ceded research and discovery, innovation, and leadership to others, and claimed application as our space. This has no doubt influenced views of external funders as well as campus leaders. On campuses, I believe this has led to defining our fields as largely about the education of students rather than as core research fields, and as training students as servers instead of leaders. Indeed, recognition of this plays out in current discussions about whether the HDFS field is best served by human development and family studies or science names. Human science disciplines, including HDFS, that are housed at R1 research-intensive universities have perhaps changed this narrative more persuasively, and the field should follow.

Third, the issues of disciplinary definition (point one, above) and of science (point two, above) are not trivial because another set of critical discussions needs to consider the federal government's tracking of academic disciplines through Classification of Instructional Program (CIP) codes. These codes influence many things including funding, grants, and the ability to attract students, including international students and the subsequent globalization of our fields. Dyer provides an interesting historical analysis of the use of these codes, particularly the evolution of the Home Economics CIP code (19.00), showcasing the growth of HDFS in its sub-codes (19.0701). Several other human science fields are contained in the 19.00 category including Food and Nutrition, Apparel, and General Family and Consumer Science, while other human science fields are classified elsewhere.

As we develop and claim identity and visibility, effort needs to be spent in advocating for changes in CIP codes that include two important changes. One, significant effort needs to be made in determining the kin disciplines under this code. It is easier to advocate for policy, funding, validity, and visibility from a common identity. Two, designation of these codes as STEM fields, where appropriate, is important. Designation as a STEM field has important funding and policy implications, elevates the basic science and technology in our fields, and provides opportunity for recruiting students, especially international students who often rely on temporary work permits to begin their careers after finishing a degree in the U.S. (called Optional Practical Training or OPT). For students who got their degree in a STEM-designated field, they have 3 years on the work permit before having to return home. Students who graduate in a non-STEM field only have 12 months on an OPT work permit before having to return home. It is easier to recruit international students in STEM because they have more options post-graduation. Recruitment of international students and globalization of our fields is critical.

Finally, I want to intentionally return to the salient point Dyer raises about kinship frameworks. We are at a historically interesting time. Society faces enormous challenges to people and communities that beg for collaborative solutions that bring together the best of our disciplinary approaches (e.g., problems like sustainability, aging, obesity, health disparities, mental health and substance use crises, and maintaining healthy communities that support a strong agricultural economy, to name just a few). Academia is dealing with a looming demographic cliff that portends smaller numbers of students entering college and our degree programs in the future, with changing connections to our traditional four-year institutions (e.g., increased interest in stackable certificates, unique and tailored educational pathways, and hunger for interdisciplinary approaches). Our professional organizations differ across the Health and Human Sciences disciplines, and this segregation makes cohesive visibility challenging. This is a time for innovation, entrepreneurship, and recognition that we are stronger together than apart. In this spirit, I want to highlight the APLU Board on Health and Human Sciences (BHHS) as an instrumental ally in these efforts. The BHHS brings together leaders in the health and human sciences disciplines to support and advocate for our mutual interests, including increasing the visibility and valuation of the health and human sciences within potential and current member institutions and with national partners. The BHHS provides opportunities for networking and sharing best practices that advance the field, supports rising leaders within health and human sciences disciplines, celebrates the valuable work happening within the human sciences, and advocates for inclusion of health and human sciences in federal funding and legislation. To learn more and become engaged, visit the BHHS page at www.aplu.org/bhhs.

As Dyer calls us to do, let us solidify existing, and form new, kinships, not because we are fragmented, but because there is strength in intentional allyship. Dyer is right that intentional kinship is an imperative forward-thinking strategy because with a solid, inclusive identity comes innovation, strength, vitality, and visibility. Students are asking for educational pathways to the future that do not exist in silos. Society demands that we come together across disciplines to generate creative solutions to complex problems. The themes of Dyer's paper related to HDFS are mirrored in the broader health and human sciences landscape, and I am grateful for the opportunity to say a few words about this excellent paper.