Anyone who can read must, by now, be well aware that the publishing industry is currently in the throes of those fabled, and cursed, “interesting times.” As an early adaptor of e-readers, I am all in favor of the opportunities that digital publication offers us, as both consumers and creators of content, but it is undeniable that, in publishing, things will never be the same. One might be justified in asking whether things ever were the same in the first place. When did academic publishers produce, at leisure, lengthy tomes on topics of interest to a few dozen scholars, without thought of production cost, but simply for the advancement of knowledge? Probably some time before the invention of the printing press. Doom has been foretold for publishing in general and academic publishing in particular for so long that we are in danger of crisis fatigue. But what is happening now is different from the corporatization of commercial publishing that took place in the 1980s, the explosion in journal subscription costs of the ‘90s, the prophesied death of print publishing that seemed to threaten the early 2000s. The outlines of publishing’s future are finally developing a certain degree of coherence. What the printing press had torn asunder, the Internet threatens to re-join. It is interesting how many publishers do see this as a threat. In April I attended a seminar on “setting new coordinates for scholarly publishing” sponsored by Allen Press. Although the participants were primarily from scientific and medical journals, there were certain conclusions to be drawn that are applicable across the board. First of all, digital-only publication of journals is inevitable—this is hardly news—but its onset may well be sooner than expected. The iPad, Kindle Fire, and other tablets make reading a digital publication not only easy and convenient, but in some ways, for an imageheavy journal like African Arts, it could be argued that tablet reading is superior to print. Virtually all of the images we receive for publication in the journal are not just digital in their transmission to us; they are natively digital. Print publication of these images is in fact adding a layer between the source and the consumer. Digital publication takes the image from the photographer’s camera directly to the eye of the reader. On the other hand, the (potential) ease and speed of digital publication and the “everbody’s a critic” nature of the Internet means that very unrealistic expectations of digital publication are rife. Take peer review. The “visionaries” of digital publishing foresee a future in which peer review is, essentially, crowd-sourced. Everyone who is interesting in Topic X will gladly jump into the fray and comment—at length and with considered sagacity—on a paper that will evolve in multiple, trackable versions into the concentrated essence of scholarly goodness! The more practical, and well-funded, endeavors admit that they get fast turn-around in peer review by paying their reviewers—perhaps possible in fields like medical research, somewhat less realistic in the humanities. In the real world, digital peer review can speed up the process by which critique is created and distributed, but if the goal is the publication of a paper (rather than the sparking of a conversation), then a limited amount of targeted critique from someone who understands the topic is not only all a writer needs, it is all that most writers can cope with. Furthermore, while scholarship in the sciences is a laborintensive enterprise, requiring the input of many people to simply create and record the raw data, as well as run the tests to analyze it, scholarship in the humanities is still primarily a solitary pursuit, for all the discussion, formal and informal, that may lay the groundwork for its production. So, aside from speed, and the savings in the cost of printing, warehousing, transporting, and mailing physical journals to an international audience (a significant component of the production cost of a journal like African Arts, but not the majority of it), what does digital publishing do better than print? Obviously, the portability of digital publications is a major factor in their favor. There is something well-nigh miraculous about a rectangle of glass, metal, rubber, and silicon that fits neatly into the palm of your hand and yet contains a library larger than that of a small rural town in Vermont and can be read more or less anywhere in the world. Sometimes there is nothing that can replace traveling to a distant library or archive to research in the stacks, but in practical terms, digital publications make it possible for scholars in the far corners of the world to access material that they would never see otherwise. Searchability is another important factor; a well-constructed index can be a research tool in and of itself, but still, an index by definition guides the reader to what the indexer thinks is important about a work, not to what the reader may be searching for. Journal archives like JSTOR allow us to search for content in publications we never even knew existed, making cross-disciplinary research more accessible than ever. But these are merely examples of ways that digital publication can make the old ways of doing research more efficient. As I have been thinking about how African Arts might change once the inevitable transition to digital-only publication arrives, I find myself thinking not in terms of books and journals but in terms of museum exhibitions and exhibition books. The current model is for the locationbound exhibition of physical objects, accompanied by text panels and, increasingly, video, audio, interactive media, supplemental lectures, and then a print book including expert analysis and discussion of both the objects and the themes of the exhibition. The exhibition books, naturally, last much longer than the exhibition, which travels on to the next venue and is ultimately disassembled. Seeing an object in person is irreplaceable. Like the relationship between a book and its index, being in the presence of the object allows an individual to ask his or her own questions about it, rather than being guided by the choices of a photographer or writer. But at the same time, photography can bring out aspects of an object that are not visible to the unassisted eye. A digital publication can provide orders of magnitude more images, from different angles and scalable magnification, than print, not to mention the potential for 360° video (or even 3-D imagery). Rather than having multimedia at the museum and text in the exhibition book, both can be simultaneously available to a global audience. And rather than competing for space in a finite number of museums, digital publication could open up an arena for smaller—or larger— scale projects, and collaborations between artists and curators where the production of the art and its contextualization and analysis occur virtually simultaneously. Rather than running an exhibition preview, we would run a version of the exhibition itself. This is just one thought about where digital publication might take African Arts. The lack of page-limit constraints might open us up to both much shorter and much longer pieces; we might publish individual pieces as they are completed rather than waiting for enough content to fill an “issue”; rather than limiting ourselves to text analysis of art, we might offer documentaries, interviews, performances themselves. And we would continue to print—or pixillate—words. Some forms of scholarship work just fine and don’t need changing. The future is upon us. The editors of African Arts are interested in what our readership would like to see in the journal as publishing goes digital, and even more so in what new types of scholarship our authors might envision publishing in these pages. We’re open to your ideas.