The Value of History

Learning history as a 'higher pleasure'

Historians are remarkably melancholy about their discipline. Economists, if you ask them, will tell you that they can model all the human behavior that matters. Physicists can lecture you on the origins of the universe. Historians, however, describe themselves as telling the story of the past; they are very explicit about the non-transcendent nature of their work.

If you think I’m being too harsh, you should listen to the (excellent) Rest is History podcast “The Lessons of History.” Here, the two (phenomenal) historians, Tom Holland, and Dominic Sandbrook, discuss what possible lessons from history one can learn and, after toying with the idea that history tells us something of human nature, decide there are none, ‘full stop.’

I can’t take this view seriously or believe that Tom and Dominic do either. Did they base their lives on something that had no more significant value? Is sounding like an ‘airport book’ so terrible that it’s worth reducing oneself to “just the facts, ma’am?”

Indeed, there is a market for books that too-simplistically describe world events. There have been far too many historians in the past who sought to find a pattern in history and extrapolate it into the future. Tom and Dominic are correct that this is bad and that consumers of history would do well to avoid these works. 

But we should not be so extreme as to claim that learning of the past provides no insights beyond the events described. I see it as a ‘higher pleasure,’ having a value that transcends the knowledge of the events themselves. To be precise, there are four “lessons” I take from history.

First, learning history teaches us the value of seeing the world in greater detail. (This claim is part of my more general view of education, but I won’t bore you with that here). Learning the details of how an event unfolds teaches you what the details are. By analogy, knowing how chess pieces move is not enough to be a successful player (a fact which I can attest to all too well); not knowing what the pieces are or how they can move will doom your chances, however. 

For example, I do not believe that simply knowing the history of American presidents would alone make someone a good president, but I do think it would help immensely; being knowledgeable of past presidential administrations provides a rubric for the roles of foreign and domestic policy, economic success, gaffes, and all sorts of issues presidents face. It’s hard for me to imagine anyone making the counterclaim that someone who knew presidential history would have no advantage over someone who knew nothing about previous presidents. 

Second, and very closely relatedly, while a knowledge of the past rarely provides precise solutions for the future, it can often reveal essential risks. A military commander studying Napoleon will quickly learn the need for strong supply lines. No manager can learn the history of Roman emperors and not give some thought to the treatment of subordinates. And a little knowledge of financial history can go a long way in protecting one’s investments. 

I’m not denying that you can overfit lessons from history, however. People have won land wars in Asia; some repressive dictators die of old age, and not all financial instruments lead to catastrophe. But while overinterpreting history risks problems, not knowing it all makes them certain. 

Third, history provides us with a vocabulary. Though often flawed, it’s beneficial to be able to say, “I see Elon Musk as the next Telsa,” and to be able to respond, “No, Edison is more apt.” The past gives us common touchpoints that we can use to explain our perspectives to one another. Without a common understanding of the past, presenting our views becomes more challenging.

Fourth, and finally, we learn something of human nature. I won’t go so far out on the limb to say, ‘We learn what it means to be human,’ or something equivalently ethereal. I mean that knowing the history of past leaders can set our expectations both for ourselves and for our leaders. The essential premise here, of course, is that no one is perfect. Abraham Lincoln’s views on race are untenable today, though historians often name him the United States ‘best president’ (whatever that means). Churchill famously made decisions that plunged millions of Indians into starvation. And the list continues. Where to draw the line on who is ‘good’ and who is ‘bad’ is a much deeper topic I’ll save for another day. But knowing history is the only way to create benchmarks for ‘good’ and ‘bad.’

So, that’s it. That’s my defense of history and why it’s so valuable. And it’s on this basis that I will continue with this Substack!