Thoughts on History

Sometimes a revealing insight can spring from the least expected of places. I say this as I was recently watching the brilliant Peep Show, when an encounter between Mark and Jeremy struck me as reminiscent of the confusion which sometimes surrounds History.

Jeremy has been brainwashed into a religious cult which posits the universe is governed by the power of ‘orgones’, supposed ‘invisible molecules of universal life energy’. As he confidently expounds, negative orgones are therefore the source of all that is wrong in life. Long-suffering Mark is quick to dismiss his friend’s novel hypothesis. Incredulous, Jeremy then challenges him to ‘explain all the problems in the world’. Mark wearily responds: ‘I couldn’t. There are so many historical and economic factors.’ Jeremy, sensing victory, then remarks with relish: ‘Exactly – you haven’t got a clue!’

Jeremy’s naïve confidence in his ludicrously simple explanation makes us laugh, along with his frustration at Mark’s necessarily inconclusive, but more realistic answer. Reflecting human nature, Jeremy craves a straightforward explanation, yet the audience knows his wiser friend is right. This seems very analogous to many people’s misconception of History.

To the Jeremys of this world, historians must appear very indecisive, even superfluous people. Even otherwise very able people have said to me, with utmost sincerity, ‘History’s easy, isn’t it? Any answer is right.’ What they fail to understand is the past’s ambiguity, its complexity that eludes a rigid interpretation, is what makes it so stimulating and enjoyable to study. The person that gets exasperated when a historian fails provide a straightforward answer to question, ‘Was the US right to drop atomic bombs on Hiroshima and Nagasaki?’ is as deluded as Jeremy, content with his ‘orgones’.

History has no set methodology, it draws on no ostensibly arcane skills. So where does a historian begin to answer the above question? What frame of analysis could one legitimately work in? Is it enough to establish the bomb was dropped earnestly for reasons that were legitimate within the framework of assumptions American policymakers had at the time – for instance, that its use would ultimately yield a net saving in human life – even if in hindsight, they were wrong? Morality is more properly dealt with by philosophers, and by venturing further historians risk committing a cardinal sin: anachronism. The realisation that past phenomena are so multifaceted should prompt a further revelation about the present – that it too defies black-and-white dichotomies.

You wouldn’t run a marathon just to reach the finish line; this misses the point. It is the exertions and drama in between that drives people to compete. Similarly with History, scholars aren’t striving for a monolithic explanation of past events, as this would be unrealistic anyway. Instead, historians enjoy analysing the past because they see it as of intrinsic interest, because the issues at stake are so central to our identity, and furthermore they underpin important arguments about our future. To have a humane, educated citizenry, one capable of debunking fundamentalist dogma and other more insidious creeds, experience of studying History can only be a good thing.

Carry on Clio

The below originally appeared as a post on an internet forum. Several people had attacked History, and I was provoked into quickly penning a manifesto expounding on why it should be studied. Because of my haste, it by no means represents a complete distillation of my thoughts on the matter. However, as they are my reflections after spending a year at uni, I wished to preserve them for future interest.

Those in possession of both 'half a brain cell' and even a cursory knowledge of History know exactly why it is worthy of respect. Here I'm going to attempt a brief defence. On a fundamental level, having no appreciation of History leaves you seeing the world in only two dimensions as it were. Take a British example, say the troubles in Northern Ireland. It truly is impossible to gain a full understanding of the conflict without embedding it in the context of ongoing historical processes. An individual merely looking at the present would have no hope, when antagonisms stretch back as far as the Jacobean plantations. To successfully act in the present we need to view the third dimension: the past.

In this way, History and Politics go hand in hand. Some scientists underestimate the value of History because they are ignorant of the type of questions it might be capable of answering. Popular notions of History focus predominantly on biographical questions which, although interesting, are comparatively trivial. True historians, however, are interested in more abstract, important entities. For example, 'society'. Werner Sombart for instance wrote Why is there no Socialism in the United States? Examining this conundrum, like many historians he probed political, economic and social phenomena over both the long and short term. Consequently, his analysis encompassed the structure of the American electoral system ('first past the post' was detrimental to third parties), the contemporary boom in the American economy, and the fact that America - as a country created by immigration - was free of the 'dregs' of feudalism. Lots of important analysis like this has been carried out. To give another quick example, Max Weber proposed that the Industrial Revolution had started in European rather than Asia because Protestantism was more conducive to capital accumulation and industry than Confucianism. Historical knowledge is dynamic, being added to all the time. Proving E.H. Carr right when he called History "an unending dialogue between the present and the past", as recently as 2000 Kenneth Pomeranz has further added to this debate.

How could you possibly class issues like these as unworthy of examination? Such attempts are key to understanding not just our own societies, but the world as it is. Furthermore, James Loewen is worth considering. He argues that the History curriculum in American schools is grossly distorted, the 'facts' refracted through an idelogical prism: a grand narrative of progress allied to an unshakable belief in the American Dream . Loewen, however, does not let this use of History put him off the subject. This is because he appreciates the benefits of its teaching in creating a reflexive, self-aware citizenry. He disputes various issues, all of which highlight the importance of a sense of History in identity construction. One illustration will have to do. He demonstrates that by teaching the lie America has always been a meritocracy from colonial times to the present day, History lessons actually help entrench and replicate inequality. This is because students then believe - perfectly logically - that the reason for their poverty is lack of ability; for haven't they already been taught that there is an equality of opportunity? In reality of course, social factors help reproduce poverty over generations, but students have already been brain-washed into a lamentable, passive acceptance. By contrast, Loewen points out that an objective study of American economic History would politically empower students, equipping them with the facts to tackle an injust system.

I would finally like to address the inane relativism which many seem to have embraced. I honestly read one critic of History say: 'Hitler may have been a good man. You never know. Churchill may have been a genocide fanatic.' I suspected that in reality the person didn't truly believe this. But if they did, then they should know that the spectrum of permissible interpretations from the sources is necessarily circumscribed by the number of valid interpretations. And no reasonable person would conclude that Hitler was a 'good man' when there is a mountain of evidence to show he orchestrated the deaths of six million Jews. Considering the sources, it would be a total non sequitur. Ignorant speculation such as this is not just deeply insulting, it's dangerous. Just look up the Irvine libel trial back in 2000 (which reminds us that such opinions can be held by so-called historians) or Richard J. Evans' In Defence of History which shows the possibility of true historical knowledge. Here he deploys a range of cogent arguments, not least highlighting the contradiction that if we believe texts really are absurdly ambiguous, how is it possible that we carry on with our normal lives, successfully conveying meaning all the while via a range of media?

On Religion

Revisiting Salley Vickers' review on The Times website, I was struck by the flurry of overwhelmingly negative comments it had generated, cheering me somewhat. Only a handful showed signs of support, while most took exception to her sloppy reasoning and straw man portrayal of Dawkins. In particular, one reader highlights the absurdity of trying to imply Dawkins' arguments could lead to racism. Vickers writes: "Religion as disease, and more pertinently, the religiously inclined disease-carriers, this is dangerous talk. Dawkins might try substituting 'Jews' or 'blacks' for 'religiously inclined' and he would see why." In response, he writes: "Ah, the argument by substitution! Not very cleverly used, of course. Here's another one that makes just as much sense: If someone says "Guns are dangerous" just substitute 'Biscuits' for 'guns'. Then you can say, 'Oh, that's like saying 'Biscuits are dangerous!' How foolish!' Changing the words changes the meaning, but doesn't make the original statement invalid."

I also listened to a Today programme from a week ago, when Richard Dawkins was confronted by John Cornwell (Vickers' "deliciously wise" seraph). It was all rather funny, as Cornwell admitted his major contention with Dawkins is not theological, but rather bewilderment at how Dawkins expects to deal with believers in society when he thinks them so mistaken. The answer, of course, has been known for over two hundred years: since America's Founding Fathers signed the Constitution in 1787 and subsequent Bill of Rights in 1791. Many early American settlers had experienced religious persecution in Europe, and so embraced secularism as a means to secure religious freedom. Therefore Thomas Jefferson understood the need to build up a wall between church and state. Furthermore, the ideal protected by the First Amendment - freedom of speech - facilitates reasoned argument in public discourse, meaning ideas can be advanced irrespective of whether or not they support the status quo. Unfortunately, I can't help but feel this freedom is being undermined in the West by a certain portion of the Muslim community. A salient example would be the failure of the press in 2006 to reprint pictures of the prophet Mohammed which originally appeared in a Danish newspaper, after being faced with considerable intimidation.

With religion on my mind tonight, I enjoyed Tristram Hunt's The Protestant Revolution on BBC4. Martin Luther's translation of the Bible from Latin - the preserve of the educated elite - into German, in conjunction with its dissemination facilitated by the advent of the printing press, had huge ramifications; it was the spark that eventually set half the world ablaze with religious revolution. This empowerment of the laity, by putting scripture in their hands, enabled them to challenge religious authority, and in an age when monarchs ruled by divine right, by extension, political power. I could see a clear parallel with the internet and how with the unprecedented accessibility of colossal amounts of information, people are now able to challenge and question those who traditionally enjoyed a monopoly on certain areas of knowledge. For example, patients are now liberated to browse alternative remedies on the internet instead of relying on their GP's advice.

Being ignorant of a lot of recent British History, I found his comment on the origins of British socialism illuminating. Unapparent now because of the decline in church attendance, Hunt tells us the founders of the Labour party were in fact inspired by the egalitarian ideals of Protestantism rather than godless Marxism. This actually makes a lot of sense when you think of the character of the UK, and Labour's hope after WW2 of building a "New Jerusalem".

It certainly made me appreciate how the seeds of Martin Luther King's Liberation Theology were present in early Protestantism, with its tradition of challenging "ungodly laws". In short, the movement has allowed common people that most powerful of arguments: that God is on their side. (It's perhaps not surprising then that it has left a trail of blood.) Finally, and more prosaically, the programme also made me feel vindicated in my choice to study Early Modern History when I start at university in October.

Salley Vickers’ Review: A Review

Reading this so-called book review in The Times, I felt sufficiently incensed to pen this response:

Vickers’ article is mind-boggling in its sheer dearth of critical thought. The irony of denouncing Dawkins’ straight-forwardly titled work as “self-aggrandising polemic”, while singing the praises of a self-proclaimed “angelic response” is lost, as Vickers wades into the fray by first admonishing Dawkins on being so simple as to think of angels as “winged beings in ethereal nightgowns”; isn’t it obvious that they are instead “archetypal images that dramatise the invisible realities”?

Dawkins is merely audacious enough to suggest that we should base “belief” on strong foundations: evidence. This is obviously too unpoetic for Vickers, who “used to ask students, is Hamlet real?” Sadly, reading her review, the empirically-minded will draw the conclusion that she has never read any of her arch-nemesis’s work. Likewise, she doesn’t really examine Cornwell’s ideas, doing them justice; instead, her piece delights in pouring scorn on Dawkins’ arguments from an uninformed perspective.

Dawkins states that the phenomenon of “faith” in all its forms, precisely because it pays no attention to the evidence, is a form of fanaticism. The benign faith-head legitimises the fanatic’s belief system, for haven’t they already condoned belief in anything, irrespective of the evidence? Isn’t it hypocritical for the Catholic, whose Pope is inexplicably infallible, to take the Mullah to task for his promise of sixty virgins in paradise? In short, faith is a slippery slope that can lead to all kinds of behaviour, whether that be running a soup kitchen or bombing the World Trade Centre. Crucially, we don’t need faith for the former.

Vickers asks several questions rhetorically, including: “Is psychiatry a bad thing because schizophrenics were once made to take bromide?” The answer: of course not. Advances using the evidence-based scientific method have corrected what would now be seen as quackery. What is unclear, however, is the basis for changes in religious belief over time. Vickers agrees with Cornwell that the Bible is “a miscellany of stories, letters, polemic, histories, fables and certainly some great moral teachings, as well as some outmoded and unacceptable social prejudices.” But how exactly does one sort the wheat from the chaff, discerning “great moral teachings” from “unacceptable social prejudices”? Dawkins offers us a changing moral Zeitgeist, carried by an advancing liberal consensus, as an explanation; Vickers reassures us: “is perfectly respectable to ‘pick and choose’ when reading the Bible”, perhaps because this is the only way to retain respectability?

The review also agrees with Cornwell over Dawkins’ apparent “breezy disregard for… serious theology”. True, he doesn’t indulge in a theological cat-walk of Emperor’s New Clothes, but as he once quipped in self-defence, “Did you read the Pastafarian Bible before dismissing the Flying Spaghetti Monster?” Furthermore, who determines what “serious” theology is in the first place? The view of the majority, as opposed to the fanatics Dawkins supposedly relies upon as his ready-made Straw Men? Interesting, Vickers labels most American Christians “nutcases” for taking Genesis literally, and why? Because in the UK it is no longer “respectable” to do so?

The review also becomes bogged down in irrelevance: “Where would Dawkins be without Jesus’s extraordinary impact on the Western world?” Vickers ponders. Yet quite how Christianity’s cultural impact, which Dawkins freely acknowledges, even advocating Biblical literacy, makes God’s existence more likely – the central thrust of Dawkins’ argument – is hard to fathom. I was reminded of Charles Babbage’s immortal line: “I am not able rightly to apprehend the kind of confusion of ideas that could provoke such a question.”

Finally – and perhaps most troublingly – Vickers implausibly tries to taint Dawkins with a whiff of racism, in a thinly-veiled attempt to circumscribe his freedom of speech with respect to religion. Having argued that religious ideas are both false and inherently dangerous, Dawkins not unreasonably labels faith a virus of the mind, and posits that Memetic theory can be used to explain the spread and evolution of such ideas. No attempt is made to refute this logic: The God Delusion is decried for “violently biased language”, with Dawkins warned to watch his in future. Vickers then proceeds to explain, “Dawkins might try substituting ‘Jews’ or ‘blacks’ for ‘religiously inclined’ and he would see why.” For a start, the universality of Meme theory is inherently unracist. But more importantly, surely just because an idea is perceived as unpalatable, this does not detract one jot from its veracity?

In her last paragraph, Vickers laments that Cornwell’s book will fail to persuade the “antiGod squad”. Ironically, she then tries to tar them with the fundamentalist brush by stating: “They ‘know’ they are right – that least scientific of attitudes since it precludes changes of heart or openness of mind.” What could be further from the truth! Again, evidence is the watchword. Dawkins would abandon his “belief” in Darwinism without looking back if presented with incontrovertible evidence that proved it wrong. In his work, he proudly cites the example of an Oxford professor being corrected regarding a theory to which he had devoted his career. The man was thankful, and Dawkins recalled “we clapped our hands raw”. Why? Because these people cared about the truth. For me, it is ironic that Vickers equates atheism with certainty, since I associate it with doubt; doubt that forces us to reject childish certainties, transforming a closed mind, full of sentimental bunkum, into a free-thinking, open one.

Vickers’ piece is not a review of Cornwell’s book, but rather a desperate attack on Dawkins’ atheism, with Darwin’s Angel providing most of the ammunition. But like many others, her brain addled by “faith”, Vickers fails to hit her target.

The Apprentice: reflections at week 10

It was my original intention to post a weekly analysis of The Apprentice; as always, however, events and sheer laziness conspired otherwise. So, here we are at week 10: what do I think so far?

Initially it appeared the same as at the start of the second series: all the contestants (surely applicants?) were so similar, no one appeared particularly brilliant, etc. It didn't take long though for characters to emerge. First among these was Tre, whose robust manner and terse speech quickly marked him out. As Adrian Chiles remarked (on You're Fired!, which follows the programme on BBC2), he could have a "PhD in concision" (why waste 5 words when one expletive will do?) but wouldn't say anything behind your back that he wouldn't say to your face - as his open misogyny attests. This is in stark contrast to the "evil" Katie, who, although impressive to begin with, quickly degenerated into some crazed pantomime villain, taking great pleasure in plotting her enemies' violent demise.

One individual I felt sorry for was Geri, who went far too early to really show the true extent of her abilities. She was intelligent and motivated, although I fear Sir Alan misconstrued her cool manner for complacency - not an unforgivable crime when you are surrounded by such inept characters as Ghazal (whose self-assessment was invariably "Everything's fine") and Sophie (who seemed to feel guilty when making anything other than a small margin). Her downfall was being nominally in charge of "location", which, given the flawed project management, was an impossible task. Her ample figure might also have been a (shameful) factor, dare I say it.

I also felt sympathetic towards Adam, who at times spoke a lot of sense and could be ruthless when necessary. Sadly, Southern tribalism seemed to militate against the poor bloke, who faced a vicious mimic in the form of Simon. Pitched against the articulate Katie, his comparatively monotonous Northern tones meant he was simply unable to argue as powerfully when deprived of any water-tight points to discredit her. Katie, however, should be ashamed of her patronising attitude.

Who do I think will win? My money would be on Kristina; she's shrewd, ruthless and confident with a good dose of common sense thrown in. To my delight, it would seem Katie comes unstuck at the interview stage when her flirtatious style is stripped away to reveal a paucity of substance. Nevertheless, I won't be placing any bets just yet...

Three, going on four months later...

Reading some of my last posts provides an insight into how fast one's life can change. Over the last three months things seem to have fallen into place. Cambridge have given me an offer - much to my delight - which I have accepted as my "firm", along with Bristol, Warwick - my "insurance" - and Exeter. Coursework has been handed in, and January module results collected. I feel like I'm on the last lap, perched on the edge of my time at sixth-formed college; teetering, about to fall into the uncertainty that is university.

Friends are all going through the same process, and it's weird to think of how our lives are going to soon diverge based on our own aspirations etc. I. is going to work part-time whilst doing a degree in Internet Computing at UWE. J. might go to Imperial College to do Electrical Engineering. A guy in my tutor group is even going to fly jets for the RAF (some people have all the fun)!

However, all this is most certainly not free. A depressing amount of debt must be entered into for the "privilege" of a university education. A presentation in college last week revealed the shocking extent of what I face. We're talking about £20-30,000 here! Although I flinched when first faced with the figures, a greater injustice became apparent. Someone studying Jurisprudence (Law) at Oxford, will pay exactly the same for their education as someone doing a nursing degree at Huddersfield! Which has the most value for society?

The Apprentice is back! In my sad life this has occasioned some excitement, as despite never having had a job, I always turn into a business expert when watching the show. Hopefully some characters will emerge that we can love/loath in equal measure. I look forward to Wednesday...

Tree time

A thick Dickensian mist has smothered Bristol, and indeed it would appear most of southern England, as flights have accordingly been grounded at Heathrow. The temperature in the car read 1.5oc, and from the chill I'm inclined to believe it. All this helps one to feel Christmasy; looking out of my window, the darkness is punctuated only by squares of light, some with twinkling trees. Further on, orange smudges show the streetlights over the cycle track. What must people think when looking at our house, however: that one essential piece of festive verdure is still conspicuous by its absence...

As I blogged last year, our attempts at tree buying have never been happy. However, this year it was worse than ever; we came home empty-handed. After rooting around several "farms" as they call themselves (in my mind I picture miniature trees hopping around a paddock), nothing proved satisfactory. Every single one seemed to have some defect, most were asymmetrical and bush-like - nothing that we wanted as the centrepiece for our celebrations. I suppose it was our fault: we'd left it too late, but I think the fiasco serves as a metaphor for Christmas in general.

We boost up this Christian festival (although it has undoubtedly now been appropriated for a secularised society) as the paragon of family togetherness, culinary excellence (just look at the Radio Times and bear witness to the shear number of cookery programmes) and unqualified giving. Yet what is the reality? Like our many prospective trees, it's a long way from the shining ideal.