Why Bother?

Cusset opens the preface of his text with a bold question: “Why still bother with theory, French or otherwise?” (xi). For Cusset, “It would take a true rhetorical talent to convince anyone . . . that theory and the many debates surrounding it can have any impact” (xi). Despite this, Cusset concludes that theory, “once extracted from its academic matrix[,] . . . can still offer its users a way to decipher all of the operations of power and the imposition of norms at work in the dominant discourse” (335). Regardless of whether or not Cusset successfully redeems theory, I find it curious that the use of, creation of, or study of theory requires such justification.
Recently, a notice for a grad student competition (Let’s Talk: How to Make Arts Research Go Public) was sent to the gsec listserv. The intention of the competition is to communicate to the community what we do, how we do it, and (seemingly the most important question to answer) why we do it. To disseminate our work is never a bad thing. Neither is it a bad thing to participate in community outreach, particularly if the act results in the amelioration, as it were, of humanities research. What troubles me, though, is the necessity of justification. I do not question the importance of medical research or work in computing science, etc., etc. Yet, I am often asked to justify my choice to study literature -- worst of all, I study literature that was written four hundred years ago! Perish the thought! After all, what is the relevance of early modern texts to the present day? Who cares if the Cavendish sisters staged a play while they were confined by Parliamentary forces? Perhaps literary study is even less valuable (or at least less valued) than theory.
The French theorist that I tend to draw upon in my own work is Foucault, because I find his theory of power structures to be useful. Further, Butler’s employment and (to some extent) refiguration of Foucault in, for example, Bodies that Matter, illuminates his applicability to gender studies. Theory provides useful tools with which I can unpack literary texts. More than, or at least in addition to, French theorists, I draw on contemporary scholars, their research and their approaches. Stephen Greenblatt, Andrew Gurr, Marta Straznicky -- these are all scholars that have, in one way or another, influenced my work on early modern drama. Is the work of a scholar less valuable than the work of a theorist? The ideas of both are valuable and are, I submit, undervalued.
As young academics, we will continually be asked to justify our work, whether it be to a SSHRC committee or to a friend in the sciences. So why do we bother in the humanities, and can we justify our research?
Perhaps the answer to Cusset’s question lies in the quote with which Astra Taylor opens her documentary, The Examined Life: “The unexamined life is not worth living” - Plato. Life ought to be examined . . . it is through the study of theory and of literary texts that we can reflect on our own state of being?