The New York Times reviews a forthcoming book by economic historian Gregory Clark, A Farewell to Alms, which presents new evidence and a novel argument for why the industrial revolution occurred when it did. The review places Clark squarely in the camp of historians who see a fundamental change occurring around 1800, although there have been others who have argued for an earlier or for a later “start date” to the Industrial Revolution.
I gather from the review that Clark’s argument hinges on a change in behavioral attitudes and the widespread adoption of “capitalist values” (or at least the values and attitudes necessary for a capitalist economy). The novelty in Clark’s work, apart from the considerable amount of new source material he has uncovered, is the part of his argument that suggests that the values necessary for capitalism could have been transmitted genetically.
For thousands of years, most people on earth lived in abject poverty, first as hunters and gatherers, then as peasants or laborers. But with the Industrial Revolution, some societies traded this ancient poverty for amazing affluence.
Historians and economists have long struggled to understand how this transition occurred and why it took place only in some countries. A scholar who has spent the last 20 years scanning medieval English archives has now emerged with startling answers for both questions.
Gregory Clark, an economic historian at the University of California, Davis, believes that the Industrial Revolution — the surge in economic growth that occurred first in England around 1800 — occurred because of a change in the nature of the human population. The change was one in which people gradually developed the strange new behaviors required to make a modern economy work. The middle-class values of nonviolence, literacy, long working hours and a willingness to save emerged only recently in human history, Dr. Clark argues.
Because they grew more common in the centuries before 1800, whether by cultural transmission or evolutionary adaptation, the English population at last became productive enough to escape from poverty, followed quickly by other countries with the same long agrarian past.
Dr. Clark’s ideas have been circulating in articles and manuscripts for several years and are to be published as a book next month, ‘A Farewell to Alms’ (Princeton University Press). Economic historians have high praise for his thesis, though many disagree with parts of it.
The final part of the review quotes several other prominent economic historians, including Kenneth Pomerantz, whose book The Great Divergence I am currently reading, and Robert P. Brenner, whose series of articles in Past and Present from the late 1970s and 1980s are basically “required reading” for any British or European historian. Both Pomerantz and Brenner are somewhat critical of Clark’s argument.
Dr. Clark says the middle-class values needed for productivity could have been transmitted either culturally or genetically. But in some passages, he seems to lean toward evolution as the explanation. “Through the long agrarian passage leading up to the Industrial Revolution, man was becoming biologically more adapted to the modern economic world,” he writes. And, “The triumph of capitalism in the modern world thus may lie as much in our genes as in ideology or rationality.”
What was being inherited, in his view, was not greater intelligence — being a hunter in a foraging society requires considerably greater skill than the repetitive actions of an agricultural laborer. Rather, it was “a repertoire of skills and dispositions that were very different from those of the pre-agrarian world.”
Reaction to Dr. Clark’s thesis from other economic historians seems largely favorable, although few agree with all of it, and many are skeptical of the most novel part, his suggestion that evolutionary change is a factor to be considered in history.
Historians used to accept changes in people’s behavior as an explanation for economic events, like Max Weber’s thesis linking the rise of capitalism with Protestantism. But most have now swung to the economists’ view that all people are alike and will respond in the same way to the same incentives. Hence they seek to explain events like the Industrial Revolution in terms of changes in institutions, not people.
Dr. Clark’s view is that institutions and incentives have been much the same all along and explain very little, which is why there is so little agreement on the causes of the Industrial Revolution. In saying the answer lies in people’s behavior, he is asking his fellow economic historians to revert to a type of explanation they had mostly abandoned and in addition is evoking an idea that historians seldom consider as an explanatory variable, that of evolution.
Most historians have assumed that evolutionary change is too gradual to have affected human populations in the historical period. But geneticists, with information from the human genome now at their disposal, have begun to detect ever more recent instances of human evolutionary change like the spread of lactose tolerance in cattle-raising people of northern Europe just 5,000 years ago. A study in the current American Journal of Human Genetics finds evidence of natural selection at work in the population of Puerto Rico since 1513. So historians are likely to be more enthusiastic about the medieval economic data and elaborate time series that Dr. Clark has reconstructed than about his suggestion that people adapted to the Malthusian constraints of an agrarian society.
“He deserves kudos for assembling all this data,” said Dr. Hoffman, the Caltech historian, “but I don’t agree with his underlying argument.”
The decline in English interest rates, for example, could have been caused by the state’s providing better domestic security and enforcing property rights, Dr. Hoffman said, not by a change in people’s willingness to save, as Dr. Clark asserts.
The natural-selection part of Dr. Clark’s argument “is significantly weaker, and maybe just not necessary, if you can trace the changes in the institutions,” said Kenneth L. Pomeranz, a historian at the University of California, Irvine. In a recent book, “The Great Divergence,” Dr. Pomeranz argues that tapping new sources of energy like coal and bringing new land into cultivation, as in the North American colonies, were the productivity advances that pushed the old agrarian economies out of their Malthusian constraints.
Robert P. Brenner, a historian at the University of California, Los Angeles, said although there was no satisfactory explanation at present for why economic growth took off in Europe around 1800, he believed that institutional explanations would provide the answer and that Dr. Clark’s idea of genes for capitalist behavior was “quite a speculative leap.”
Dr. Bowles, the Santa Fe economist, said he was “not averse to the idea” that genetic transmission of capitalist values is important, but that the evidence for it was not yet there. “It’s just that we don’t have any idea what it is, and everything we look at ends up being awfully small,” he said. Tests of most social behaviors show they are very weakly heritable.
He also took issue with Dr. Clark’s suggestion that the unwillingness to postpone consumption, called time preference by economists, had changed in people over the centuries. “If I were as poor as the people who take out payday loans, I might also have a high time preference,” he said.
Dr. Clark said he set out to write his book 12 years ago on discovering that his undergraduates knew nothing about the history of Europe. His colleagues have been surprised by its conclusions but also interested in them, he said.
“The actual data underlying this stuff is hard to dispute,” Dr. Clark said. “When people see the logic, they say ‘I don’t necessarily believe it, but it’s hard to dismiss.’ ”
The complete review from The New York Times:
Books, History
Posted Saturday, July 7th, 2007 at 12:00 am
Two new biographies of Alexis de Tocqueville are reviewed in The New York Times. The sense of the review is that each of them complicates the standard notion of Tocqueville: he was “an unlikely student of democracy and an even less likely voyager to the American wilderness.”
Hopefully I’ll have a chance to read these sometime soon. I’ve always had only a fairly general familiarity with Tocqueville and would like to know more about him.
Americans generally quote Alexis de Tocqueville’s “Democracy in America” as a way of patting themselves on the back. Tocqueville’s first volume, published at the end of 1834 after a nine-month tour of the New World, was the first great study of American institutions and political culture. It declared the American Revolution the triumph of “a mature and considered taste for liberty, not a vague and indefinite instinct for independence.”
But there is another way to read Tocqueville. If Volume 1 laid out what Americans had made of democracy, Volume 2, published six years later, laid out what democracy had made of Americans. This was a bleaker subject. Self-rule had its paradoxes, Tocqueville showed. Equality could come at the price of intellectual independence. And if one man was just as worthy of a political voice as the next, why should any individual involve himself in politics at all? Hugh Brogan, a historian at the University of Essex in England, shares the preoccupations of this second Tocqueville, without sharing his conclusions. In an erudite and combative new biography, he presents many of Tocqueville’s misgivings about democracy as specious and reactionary.
The complete review by Christopher Caldwell in The New York Times: “Even God Quotes Tocqueville”
Books, European History
Posted Friday, June 1st, 2007 at 10:24 pm
Two reviews of a book by Lucy Riall on Garibaldi suggest that Riall’s important contribution to the existing literature on Garibaldi, the Risorgimento, and Italian Unification is the way that she shows how effective Garibaldi was at creating his own heroic image.
John Dickie writes:
Lucy Riall’s approach is sober and succinct. She lets the drama of episodes such as the defence of the doomed Roman Republic in 1849 and the expedition of the Thousand in 1860 speak for itself. Garibaldi is shown to be a military leader of genius, and a sincere and audacious patriot. Those who met him were charmed by his physical presence and by his humble but easy manner. Women threw themselves at his feet, and he had no compunction about taking advantage.
But he was also - and here lies the originality of Riall’s book - an astute and astoundingly successful manager of his own image. Garibaldi really was a hero; Riall’s persuasive case is that he was acting out a heroic script.
The Garibaldi persona had several components. Part was chivalrous outlaw, part long-haired romantic genius and part the honour-bound avenger of melodrama. There was more than a touch of the gaucho, too: Garibaldi’s signature poncho and his relaxed horsemanship dated back to his adventure-filled exile in South America.
Then there was religion: he appeared to be the Italian redeemer willing to sacrifice himself to free the nation from subjection. Garibaldi’s speeches played skilfully on these traits, which were more than just matters of style. The expanding press were greedy for stories that converted politics into parables of good against evil.
According to Riall, the real way that Garibaldi made Italy into a nation was not only through force and political efforts but through the creation of patriotic stories that “not only made Italy, but made Italy convincing.”
The complete review by John Dickie in The Daily Telegraph: “Spent bullets and stained bandages”
The other review, by Adam Zamoyski, makes a slightly different point about the creation of the national myth.
There never was a glorious coming together of the ‘nation’ to throw off the shackles of foreign oppression. Unification was the result of an often tawdry interplay of the competing schemes of various intellectuals and revolutionaries on the one hand and the opportunistic manoeuvring of the house of Savoy on the other, helped along by the brutality of the Habsburg administration, the incompetence of the Bourbons of Naples, the anachronism of the Papal States and the often delusional support of British public opinion.
All of this deconstruction leaves the void of explaining exactly how Italian Unification took place. Raill, according to Zamoyski, tackles this question and answers it in terms of public relations.
In this impressively researched, authoritative, intelligent and thoughtful book Lucy Riall sets out to get to the bottom of how and by whom Garibaldi’s image was constructed and, by extension, how the whole Risorgimento myth was foisted on a gullible world.
She identifies Italian Romanticism and its most famous product, Giuseppe Mazzini, as the source. A ground-breaker in terms of political PR, Mazzini deployed the power of Romantic literature to conjure the image of a nation oppressed, and used the tragic tussles of young Italian intellectuals with the ham-fisted and brutal rulers of their country to build this image into a cause. From his exile in London, where he came to rest in the 1830s, he orchestrated pointless risings which he would then write up in legendary manner.
Zamoyski emphasizes how much the creation of nationalist myth was tied to the changing role of the press in European society during the 19th century. This contingent and mutually constitutive relationship is the driving force that propelled the successful development of myth.
The press was just then undergoing a revolutionary change of its own. As readership expanded to embrace less educated classes, politics and history were increasingly represented as living theatre, which required heroes and villains. Garibaldi was a godsend in the circumstances, and he was delivered to an eager public as the physical embodiment of the resurgent Italian nation (which still did not exist in the consciousness of 90-plus per cent of the peninsula’s population).
The legend of Garibaldi developed a life of its own. While he went back to shipping guano across the Pacific, publicists and journalists churned out ever more intimate and sensational material on him. By the time he entered the fray on behalf of Italy once more, in the war of 1859-60, history unfurling had become a spectator sport for the literate masses. Garibaldi played out his part in the full glare of publicity, and his picaresque Sicilian expedition was one of the most publicised, and misrepresented, episodes in European history.
Despite the fact that all his subsequent endeavours were embarrassing failures, the propaganda needs of the Italian cause turned him into a kind of saint, and a bizarre iconography sprang up based on Christian practice and prayers. The legend had taken over from reality.
The idea of legend taking over from reality because of the interplay between the press, the subject, and the story is not a new or a unique theme. It is an important one because it appears not just in isolated cases, but in many different contexts around the modern world. One of my favorite films, The Man Who Shot Liberty Valance, makes the same point in the American West.
The complete review by Adam Zamoyski in The Daily Telegraph: “The hero of italian unification?”
Books, European History
Posted Thursday, May 31st, 2007 at 7:31 pm
I just found out about a new book on the sixteenth century Dutch “Tulipmania,” Anne Goldgar’s Tulipmania. The book seems very intriguing because the University of Chicago Press description suggests that Goldgar’s scholarship is focused on debunking the myth that the Tulipmania episode was a case of the excess of financial speculation.
As Anne Goldgar reveals in Tulipmania, not one of these stories is true. Making use of extensive archival research, she lays waste to the legends, revealing that while the 1630s did see a speculative bubble in tulip prices, neither the height of the bubble nor its bursting were anywhere near as dramatic as we tend to think. By clearing away the accumulated myths, Goldgar is able to show us instead the far more interesting reality: the ways in which tulipmania reflected deep anxieties about the transformation of Dutch society in the Golden Age. She shows how Dutch citizens became enchanted by the combination of art and science that made up a tulip bulb, and how experts in tulips appeared in communities of merchants and craftsmen. She also illustrates vividly how the plague, the concerns of capitalism, and the loss of trust among individuals in a rapidly changing society combined to create the cultural crisis that was tulipmania.
I’m very excited to read this book because I’ve been interested in “Tulipmania” since I was a teenager and first read about it in the context of learning about the stock market and financial speculation. Definitely a book I am going to add to my summer reading list!