“History is bunk.” – Henry Ford
It is a somewhat counter-intuitive idea.
The idea that the past has relevance to the future.
A friend of mine recently lambasted me for my continual reference to things past. With an air of exasperation, she demanded to know why I insisted on always looking backwards when all we can ever do is go forwards.
I had recently finished Huxley’s Brave New World, and Henry Ford, founder of Ford Motors, is an important figure in the central themes and meaning of the work. I had heard this quote a long time ago but hadn’t really given it much thought. As my friend sat there, head tilted, eyes searching my features for signs of a potential explanation, I pondered this idea once more.
‘History is bunk’.
Hmm.
Of course, anyone who’s studied history, or who has like myself a deep admiration for the subject, would fiercely contest this assertion – which in Huxley’s case, is partially the point, but it’s a curious concept to consider.
We can’t change the past. We can learn an astounding deal from it; indeed, I’m reminded now of Marcus Aurelius’ assertion that forty years of human history will tell you all you need know for a thousand. Therein lies history’s importance: studying the past lets us understand what will happen in the future – what more could you possibly ask for?
Not to mention that history is wildly and dramatically exciting. There’s a rare pleasure to be found in discovering an amusing historical anecdote buried within an obscure Wikipedia article on a long-lost European nobleman or a minor historical skirmish.
This same friend of mine who so denounced my penchant for history proved largely immune to any rationalisation along these lines. It is not at all clear that people of intelligence – my friend being very intelligent – are instinctively aware of the inextricable and grossly vital link between past and future.
I would hazard a suggestion that this is part of the reason why the rampant cavalry charge of technological progress is so utterly terrifying. The most brilliant and scientifically-minded of our generation are fervently engaged in the development of technology that the rest of us struggle to even use let alone understand, yet such dedication to the future necessitates a growing disconnection from the past, due surely in part to the total absorption of the intellect with these technological matters.
People like Ford? I don’t know; Ford was particularly eccentric it seems.
We know ourselves, because we’ve seen ourselves at our heroic best, and at our irredeemable worst. We know this because we have recorded our past actions across generations, in times of prosperity and times of despair. If we know ourselves – if we know what we’re capable of – then we should also know the future, because while the times may change, who we are has been shaped across millions of years.
We know all of this because of history. The thought that history really is bunk, and that there are people of indescribable genius out there today that may subscribe to this theory, is to dance with the devil to the tune of inevitable destruction; and I was never any good at dancing.
TJDempsey 