Political Parallels are in their Decline and Fall
Or… Why history and politics sometimes don’t (and shouldn’t) mix.
Recently I read a substack post by Noah Smith aimed squarely at historians, myself included. While an economist by trade (and physicist by education!!), he had taken it upon himself to pour cold water on the rising tide of Historians taking up political commentary. Primarily, he took aim at the decidedly “un-scientific” nature of many of the contributions from Historians claiming — even though they themselves might disagree — to be able to tell the future based on the past.
Smith singles out Bret Devereaux’s piece about Greek Tyrants which follows a distinct formula that can be observed in many other “Historian having a crack at Politics”-type articles. Begin with a modern-day political event (Devereaux chooses Jan 6th), wax lyrical about similar events occurring in the ancient world, and, finally, end with some sort of lesson of history which can inform the reader of some mysterious universality of particular events or people (and, therefore, a need to act in a certain way). In this case, Devereaux argues that “would-be tyrants keep trying until they succeed.” Noah Smith’s point is that this statement, were it to be uttered in a different discipline, would require substantial empirical testing. Indeed, I’m sure if one tried hard enough, it would be possible to create a similar article arguing the complete opposite, citing the likes of Sulla or even Nixon.
Smith explains the issue here:
“I am not claiming that these analogies are misplaced or that these predictions and recommendations are wrong. I am merely recognizing that historical analogies, when used as these historians do to make either predictions and/or recommendations for the present, are social-science theories.”
This trend has also been recognised by James Sweet, President of the American Historical Association, who also recently criticised this rising tide of Historians (or, rather, History itself) being injected into opinion politics by a range of aspiring commentators and “political hacks” in his most recent column. A piece of writing which, due to degrading the work of some minority scholars to the outrage from some of his colleagues, Sweet has had to issue an apology for. The piece hinges on the growth of “presentism,” in which Historians tune their research interests into exploring ideas through a present-day lens (responding to modern political or identity trends). Ultimately, Sweet believes this approach trivialises history as a subject, leading to this situation in which it becomes “an evidentiary grab bag” to help people justify their own personal political beliefs (a particularly egregious example I’ve found will be tackled later on).
Sweet’s own examples stem from the opinions of the Supreme Court Justices, who have used unlikely and unsubstantiated historical opinions and events to try and argue that the US has always criminalised abortion, aware that they have to somehow justify their recent erratic decisions. Historians collaborated to write and present their own opinion on which decision should be taken, using far better evidence and historical precedence, and yet still had their opinion dismissed as simply a competing historical view. Lacking a credible framework within which to test historical theories, there is no quality control. Anything can be “justified” historically, leading to this situation within political commentary. A plucky journalist nowadays cannot be content just to articulate their own views or offer political analysis. Instead, it must be framed within the lens of history, utilising this “grab bag” of concepts or events to decorate their opinions and dress them up as genuine historical analysis. Analysis which goes untested and unsubstantiated.
But how can you spot this? A particularly egregious example of this comes from Martin Fletcher’s recent comment for the New Statesman. If ever there was a manual on how to write a simplistic historical opinion piece, this is it. Take a current event (Britain grinding to a standstill this summer), and liken it to a historical event (decline and fall of Rome), use some eye-catching image of collapse (the un-ironic use of Thomas Cole’s Destruction is hilarious), and go from there. Out of the 898 words used in the article, only 111 are devoted to actually discussing the fall of the Western Roman Empire (12%). And even then, it’s simply an exercise in regurgitating outdated beliefs about decadence, deceit, and debauchery. It doesn’t even try to be specific. Or, indeed, correct.
Yes — the article does a good job of summarising the issues facing Britain in 2022 and outlining why we should all be worried about the coming winter. It skewers the Conservative leadership candidates and accuses the press of being willing accomplices. But does it need to be framed by this surface level parallel with the ancient world? Is the writing elevated? Do the points hit harder? No. They don't. It’s a particularly bad example of an awful trend in politics to exploit History’s (presently) un-scientific nature to pick and mix evidence together to make what you’re saying seem more profound than it actually is. To turn personal opinion into historical “fact.”
I don’t know how we can fix this. Perhaps a decline in “presentism” in the field of history would provide less red meat to current events commentators, but changing the direction of the field of History is no easy task. In the meantime, it might be worth taking any historical arguments made by current affairs writers with an extra pinch of salt.
