Some Thoughts on the Knowledge of History D. McManaman Our memories are profoundly unreliable, and there is a great deal of subjectivity in our apprehension of the real (i.e., induction biases). That insight is itself, however, an objective apprehension of a real epistemic state of affairs. Nevertheless, our apprehension of the present is very fragmented, incomplete, and often mixed with error. How often do we need others to correct our apprehension and interpretation of what is happening currently? After reading a few accounts of the recent story involving the Timothy Schmaltz sculpture of “Jesus the Homeless”—that it was rejected by the Archdiocese of Toronto and New York, but blessed by Pope Francis—, I am still not clear about important details (i.e., why his offer was twice rejected, where it will finally end up, whether or not it was a gift that was rejected, whether the price was too high, etc.), and yet many of these accounts would like me to make a very specific inference that is not flattering to the two Archdioceses in question—which is likely why so many important details have been left out. If one were to ask two people to write an account of a persons leadership, say a school principal, it is highly unlikely that the two accounts would agree. They often conflict on important points. This is not to suggest that conflict cannot be resolved or that there is no right or wrong answer. I only point out that we dont always interpret what we see correctly or accurately. I only see my own colleagues from a very limited angle, and my understanding of them is incomplete and fragmented. If I am not careful—and we rarely are—, I will make inferences on the basis of scanty evidence, and those inferences that I make are very often the alternatives (or antecedents) that have some sort of emotional appeal to me. Another colleague might see that leader differently. In fact, he or she may be in circumstances that permit a more complete and accurate grasp of a colleagues leadership qualities, for example. There are also heuristic biases that can keep me from accurately assessing the other; for example, how carefully do I pay attention to the size of my sample space (i.e., Selection Bias, Confirmation Bias, etc.). Most people are woefully unaware of the inadequacy of the size of their sample space on the basis of which they make statistical inferences. Indeed, some biases may actually permit me to apprehend clearly and objectively certain aspects of my colleagues or a colleague; but some may turn out to be an obstacle to a more accurate assessment. Knowing which ones are a possible help as opposed to a hindrance is not always easy, but it is necessary, especially for the historian. In this light, how much more difficult is it to come to an understanding of history—the various documents of which suffer from the same problems noted above—with any kind of accuracy? We inevitably come to an understanding of a President, for example, through the eyes of someone else. But the eyes of someone else, that purview, is limited and incomplete, and what he sees might not be all that accurate, for whatever reason. If it is accurate, who can deny that it is open to further completion? A good historian must employ, as a method, Inference to the Best Explanation. Interpreting documents is a matter of hermeneutics, and the “proper” interpretation of a text depends on my own framework and the questions that I pose in the face of these documents. An economist, for example, will have a definite interest in certain causes of certain past events, and he or she will be in a better position to interpret the data than someone who has no background in economics. A good contrastive question bearing upon the period of the Great Depression, for example, is not “Why did the Depression occur and why did it end”; rather, we can ask the question: Why did the Depression last so long? An economist would ask that question because he or she knows that recessions need not last long. Someone with no economic background may not think to ask such a question, and so he or she merely assumes that the end of the Great Depression was brought about by decisions that preceded the end--which is, quite possibly, the fallacy of false cause. There is a great deal we can be certain of, or nearly certain of, when it comes to the study of history. The claim that there is no such thing as a historical fact is, in my mind at least, difficult to accept. Every present occurrence recedes into the past and becomes a historical fact. So what does it mean that there is no such thing as a historical fact? Isn’t my marriage a historical fact? Does it mean that nothing about the study of history is certain? Are we not certain that there was a housing boom and bust in the United States? Are we not certain that there was a Great Depression? Are we not certain that there was a ship called the Titanic that sank? We come to the knowledge of these events through the testimony of others, and we accept that testimony on the basis of natural faith. So perhaps it can be argued that there is no such thing as a historical fact in the sense of a conclusion that carries the force of necessity, as do the conclusions of a valid demonstrative syllogism. Perhaps we can only speak of probabilities; and indeed, Inference to the Best Explanation is a form of induction, and induction is characterized by underdetermination. Inductive conclusions lack the force of necessity; at best they are only probably true. So, what is the probability that the story of the sinking of the Titanic was a complete fraud? A fabrication? What is the probability that there was no Great Depression, that the 30s was a time of great prosperity for everyone? What is the probability that there was in fact no World War I and II? That President Kennedy was not assassinated? If certainty cannot be had, what reason is there for doubting any of the above? I am not aware of anyone who doubts that there was a Great Depression or that the Titanic sank. The probability that these are all clever constructs, fabrications that are part of a grand conspiracy of some kind, is so low that the claims are not worth serious consideration. But other historical claims are worth questioning, because their degree of probability is not so high or not so low. The claim that Roosevelts New Deal brought an end to the Great Depression is not so certain; in fact, it is so far from certain that it is unreasonable not to debate the issue. It is a fact that newspapers reported on the Depression as well as on the sinking of the Titanic, that is, there were articles written at the time. It is not always clear whether the facts presented in these articles are accurate. If todays newspaper accounts of current events can be so filled with error and misinformation, written with the intention of disposing the public to make specific inferences that agree with the ideological slant of the newspaper, then isn’t it reasonable to expect the same of newspapers from the 30s? That is why the historian has to behave like a detective. To get as close to the truth as is reasonably possible, he will engage in an inductive method, namely, Inference to the Best Explanation. In order to present his findings in a way that keeps a reader’s attention, he will arrange those facts in the form of a coherent narrative. That narrative will, for the sake of style, leave out certain facts and include others. More importantly, it will necessarily participate in the limitations that sense perception imposes upon human intelligence in general. This is not to suggest that his history is unreliable—it might be tremendously well researched and reliable; but it is always limited. There is no escaping human limitations; for there is only one way to be opened up onto this world of ours, whether it is the world of the present or the world of the past, and that is through the purview of an individual human being who begins to know whatever he knows through sense perception, and human intelligence participates in the limitations of sense perception (we only see the world from a particular angle at any one time). Now, finding the right contrastive question is the way that leads to the hypothesis from which we can infer the best explanation. Just as this permits a detective to solve a crime, it is this stumbling upon the right question that enables a historian to solve a historical problem. Why did the Great Depression last as long as it did, when recessions throughout the 20th century have recovered on their own relatively quickly? That calls for a re-examination of the historical evidence. Perhaps we have overlooked something all these years, and we never realized it, because the question was never asked, and the question was never asked because only someone with a special interest asks certain questions. Copyright © 2013 by Douglas P. McManaman All Rights Reserved
Posted on: Wed, 04 Dec 2013 11:16:36 +0000