Are all historians essentially storytellers, for the reasons that the speaker cites? In asserting
that we can never know the past directly, the speaker implies that we truly "know" only what we
experience first-hand. Granting this premise, I agree that it is the proper and necessary role of
historians to "construct" history by interpreting evidence. Nevertheless, the speaker’s
characterization of this role as "storytelling" carries certain unfair implications, which should be
addressed.
One reason why I agree with the speaker’s fundamental claim lies in the distinction between
the role of historian and the roles of archivist and journalist. By "archivist" I refer generally to
any person whose task is to document and preserve evidence of past events. And by
"journalist" I mean any person whose task is to record, by writing, film, or some other media,
factual events as they occur--for the purpose of creating evidence of those events. It is not the
proper function of either the journalist or the archivist to tell a story. Rather, it is their function to
provide evidence to the historian, who then pieces together the evidence to construct history,
as the speaker suggests. In other words, unless we grant to the historian a license to
"construct" history by interpreting evidence, we relegate the historian to the role of mere
archivist or journalist.
Another reason why I agree with the speaker’s characterization of the historian’s proper
function is that our understanding of history is richer and fuller as a result. By granting the
historian license to interpret evidence--to "construct" history--we allow for differing viewpoints
among historians. Based on the same essential evidence, two historians might disagree about
such things as the contributing causes of a certain event, the extent of influence or impact of
one event on subsequent events, the reasons and motives for the words and actions of
important persons in history, and so forth. The inexorable result of disagreement, debate, and
divergent interpretations among historians is a fuller and more incisive understanding of
history.
However, we should be careful not to confuse this license to interpret history, which is
needed for any historian to contribute meaningfully to our understanding of it, with artistic
license. The latter should be reserved for dramatists, novelists, and poets. It is one thing to
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attempt to explain historical evidence; it is quite another to invent evidence for the sake of
creating a more interesting story or to bolster one’s own point of view. A recently released
biography of Ronald Reagan demonstrates that the line which historians should not cross is a
fine one indeed. Reagan’s biographer invented a fictional character who provided commentary
as a witness to key episodes during Reagan’s life. Many critics charge that the biographer
overstepped his bounds as historian; the biographer claims, however, that the accounts in the
biography were otherwise entirely factual, and that the fictional narrator was merely a literary
device to aid the reader in understanding and appredating the historical Reagan.
In sum, I strongly agree that the historian’s proper function is to assemble evidence into
plausible constructs of history, and that an element of interpretation and even creativity is
properly involved in doing so. And if the speaker wishes to call these constructs "storytelling,"
that’s fine. This does not mean, however, that historians can or should abandon scholarship for
the sake of an interesting story.
Issue 43
"Some educational systems emphasize the development of students’ capacity for reasoning
and logical thinking, but students would benefit more from an education that also taught them
to explore their own emotions."The speaker asserts that educational systems should place less emphasis on reason and
logical thinking and more emphasis on the exploration of emotions. While I concede that in
certain fields students are well served by nurturing their emotions and feelings, in most
academic disciplines it is by cultivating intellect rather than emotions that students master their
discipline and, in turn, gain a capacity to contribute to the well-being of society.
I agree with the speaker insofar as undue emphasis on reason and logical thinking can have
a chilling effect on the arts. After all, artistic ideas and inspiration spring not from logic but from
emotions and feelings such as joy, sadness, hope, and love. And, the true measure of artistic
accomplishment lies not in technical proficiency but rather in a work’s impact on the emotions
and spirit. Nevertheless, even in the arts, students must learn theories and techniques, which
they then apply to their craft. And, creative writing requires the cognitive ability to understand
how language is used and how to communicate ideas. Besides, creative ability is itself partly a
function of intellect; that is, creative expression is a marriage of one’s cognitive abilities and the
expression of one’s feelings and emotions.
Aside from its utility in the arts, however, the exploration of emotions has little place in
educational systems. The physical sciences and mathematics are purely products of reason
and logic. Even in the so-called "soft" sciences, emotion should play no part. Consider, for
example, the study of history, political science, or public policy, each of ’which is largely the
study of how the concepts of fairness, equity, and justice work themselves out. It is tempting to
think that students can best understand and learn to apply these concepts by tapping feelings
such as compassion, empathy, sympathy, and indignation. Yet fairness, equity, and justice
have little to do with feelings, and everything to do with reason. After all, emotions are
subjective things. On the other hand, reason is objective and therefore facilitates
communication, consensus, and peaceful compromise.
Indeed, on a systemic scale undue emphasis on the exploration of our emotions can have
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deleterious societal consequences. Emotions invite irrationality in thought and action, the
dangers of which are all too evident in contemporary America. For example, when it comes to
the war on drugs, free speech and religion, abortion issues, and sexual choices, public policy
today seems to simply mirror the voters’ fears and prejudices. Yet common sense dictates that
social ills are best solved by identifying cause-and-effect relation-ships---in other words,
through critical thinking. The proliferation of shouting-match talk shows fueled by irrationality
and emotion gone amuck is further evidence that our culture lends too much credence to our
emotions and not enough to our minds. A culture that sanctions irrationality and unfettered
venting of emotion is vulnerable to decline. Indeed, exploiting emotions while suppressing
reason is how demagogues gain and hold power, and how humanity’s most horrific atrocities
have come to pass. In contrast, reason and better judgment are effective deterrents to incivility,
despotism, and war.In sum, emotions can serve as important catalysts for academic accomplishment in the arts.
Otherwise, however, students, and ultimately society, are better off by learning to temper their
emotions while nurturing judgment, tolerance, fairness, and understandlng--all of which are
products of reason and critical thinking.
Issue 44
"It is primarily through our identification with social groups that we define ourselves."
I strongly agree that we define ourselves primarily through our identification with social
groups, as the speaker asserts. Admittedly, at certain stages of life people often appear to
define themselves in other terms. Yet, in my view, during these stages the fundamental need to
define one’s self through association with social groups is merely masked or suspended.
Any developmental psychologist would agree that socialization with other children plays a
critical role in any child’s understanding and psychological development of self. At the day-care
center or in the kindergarten class young children quickly learn that they want to play with the
same toys at the same time or in the same way as some other children. They come to
understand generally what they share in common with certain of their peers---m terms of
appearance, behavior, likes and dislikes--and what they do not share in common with other
peers or with older students and adults. In other words, these children begin to recognize that
their identity inextricably involves their kinship with certain peers and alienation from other
people.
As children progress to the social world of the playground and other after-school venues,
their earlier recognition that they relate more closely to some people than to others evolves
into a desire to form well-defined social groups, and to set these groups apart from others.
Girls begin to congregate apart from boys; clubs and cliques are quickly formed--often with
exclusive rituals, codes, and rules to further distinguish the group’s members from other
children. This apparent need to be a part of an exclusive group continues through high school,
where students identify themselves in their yearbooks by the clubs to which they belonged.
Even in college, students eagerly join clubs, fraternities, and sororities to establish their identity
as members of social groups. In my observation children are not taught by adults to behave in
these ways; thus this desire to identify oneself with an exclusive social group seems to spring
from some innate psychological need to define one’s self through one’s personal associations.
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However, as young adults take on the responsibilities of partnering, parenting, and working,
they appear to define themselves less by their social affiliations and more by their marital
status, parental status, and occupation. The last of these criteria seems particularly important
for many adults today. When two adults meet for the first time, beyond initial pleasantries the
initial question almost invariably is "What do you do for a living?" Yet in my opinion this shift in
focus from one’s belonging to a social group to one’s occupation is not a shift in how we prefer
to define ourselves. Rather, it is born of economic necessity--we don’t have the leisure time or
financial independence to concern ourselves with purely social activities. I find quite telling the
fact that when older people retire from the world of work an interest in identifying with social
groups--whether they be bridge clubs, investment clubs, or country clubs--seems to reemerge.