Avsnitt
-
This week I wanted to give you two conversations recorded some time ago, which are part of our recurring series on intellectual humility and historical thinking.
The first guest is Alex Mikaberidze, a native of Georgia, the other one, not the one with peaches. He's Professor of History and Ruth Herring Noel Endowed Chair at Louisiana State University in Shreveport. Dr. Mika Reja specializes in 18th and 19th century Europe, particularly [00:04:00] the Napoleonic Wars. He has written or edited some two dozen titles, including the critically acclaimed The Napoleonic Wars: A Global History and most recently the critically acclaimed Kutuzov: A Life in War and Peace, both of which we discussed on this podcast (in Episode 14 and again in Episode 155, and in Episode 284). He also talked about the skills of historical research in Episode 241, which means that as this is fifth appearance on the podcast, I owe him a coffee mug.
My second guest is Scott Eric Nelson, Georgia Athletic Association Professor at the University of Georgia. Scott writes about the 19th century history, including the history of slavery, international finance, the history of science, and of global commodities. His first book was Steel Drivin' Man: The Untold Story of an American Legend, about the black folklore legend John Henry, and it won four national awards. More recently, he authored Oceans of Grain: How American Wheat Remade the World, about the competition between the United States and the Russian Empire to Feed Europe between 1789 and 1918. It was featured on the BBC, CBS, NPR, and most importantly on Historically Thinking.
-
My guest today is David Staley, associate professor in the Department of History at the Ohio State University, where he teaches courses in digital history and historical methods, and holds courtesy appointments in the Departments of Design where he is taught courses in design history and design futures, and the Department of Educational Studies where he has led the forum on the university.
This is his fifth appearance on Historically Thinking, which means I owe him a coffee mug. He has previously been on with co-author Dominic Endicott to talk about their book Knowledge Towns; with Brent Orrell to talk about "The History of the Future"; explaining the beauties of historical context; and, in our very first conversation together, describing some potential Alternative Universities. This time we'll be talking about his book, Visionary Histories out for a few years now, available for free on Apple Books.
In it David has written "twenty histories of the future"–originally essays in the Columbus Underground–which range from the future of artificial intelligence, to democracy, capitalism, education, and leisure. So this means that this will be at least the fourth time that David tries to convince me that historians have something to say about the future other than giving a shrug.
[Art generated by MS Copilot; not an accurate representation of David Staley, or his dog.] -
Saknas det avsnitt?
-
“For many educated Westerners,” writes today’s guest, “ the idea that religion promotes violence and secularism ameliorates the problem is a settled certainty, a doxa, an unstated premise of right thinking. By no means do I deny that religious energies…can be turned toward destructive ends, especially by unscrupulous politicians in times of crisis and uncertainty… Nonetheless, concentration on or simply assuming religion’s inclination toward violence insouciantly glides past a glaring reality of the twentieth century: namely, that regimes committed to secularism have not infrequently possessed just as much capacity for violence as, and often much more than, those tied to religious identity.”
These are some of the observations with which Thomas Albert Howard begins his new book, Broken Altars: Secularist Violence in Modern History. It is a survey and a dissection of how certain types of secularism can lead to violence as furious as that of any religious fanatic.
Thomas Albert (Tal) Howard (Ph.D, University of Virginia) is professor of humanities and history and holds the Phyllis and Richard Duesenberg Chair in Christian Ethics at Valparaiso University. His previous books include The Faiths of Others: A History of Interreligious Dialogue (Yale University Press, 2021), which was the subject of our conversation in Episode 232 of this podcast. This is his third appearance on Historically Thinking; he also discussed the life and historical project of Jacob Burckhardt long, long ago in Episode 37.
(The image is of two Tibetan Buddhists undergoing a "self-criticism session" in Lhasa sometime in 1966; from picryl.com) -
In 1845 a water mold named Phytophthora Infestans which afflicts potato and tomato plants began to spread across Europe, killing potatoes from Sweden to Spain. “The potato blight caused crisis everywhere it appeared in Europe,” writes my guest Padraic X. Scanlan; “in Ireland, it caused an apocalypse.” In 1845, a third of the United Kingdom’s population lived in Ireland; an 1841 census had counted a population of 8.2 million. In the next six years, 1 million of them would die from famine related causes; another 1.5 million had emigrated. The 1851 census totaled the Irish population at 6.5 million, and the population of Ireland would continue to decline for another 100 years. “Although the labouring poor ate potatoes throughout northern and western Europe, only Ireland experienced demographic collapse during and after the blight pandemic.” And the consequences of the famine were more than demographic. It frayed or destroyed communal and familial relationships, and must have led to long-lasting psychological trauma.Padraic X. Scanlan is an associate professor at the Centre for Industrial Relations and Human Resources and the Centre for Diaspora & Transnational Studies at the University of Toronto. The author of two previous books, his latest is Rot: An Imperial History of the Irish Famine, and it is the subject of our conversation today.
-
This is the 400th episode of Historically Thinking. And while it’s a podcast that focuses on history, and how historians and everyone else think about the past, I do that each week through conversation. For a long time I have really wanted to believe something that Plato wrote, that “Truth, as human reality, comes about only in conversation.”
So it’s fitting, I think, that we devote Episode 400 to having a conversation about conversation with Paula Marantz Cohen, author of Talking Cure: An Essay on the Civilizing Power of Conversation. In this stimulating book, Cohen travels over all the terrains of conversation, from familial conversations to the restaurants most conducive to good conversation; from gatherings of great conversationalists to surprisingly useful self-help books on conversations; and to gossip, and those little keys that somehow unlock what Samuel Johnson termed “solid conversation”.
Paula Marantz Cohen is Dean Emerita of the Pennoni Honors College and Distinguished Professor of English at Drexel University. Among her books are Of Human Kindness: What Shakespeare Teaches Us About Empathy and six novels, including Jane Austen in Boca, which is “Pride and Prejudice set in a Jewish retirement community in Boca Raton”; the literary mystery What Alice Knew: A Most Curious Tale of Henry James and Jack the Ripper; and Beatrice Bunson’s Guide to Romeo and Juliet, a novel for young adults. -
This is Episode 399 of Historically Thinking. And whenever the dial turns to 100, my thoughts turn towards what this podcast is about. So it seemed to me a good time to talk with Anton Howes.
Anton Howes is official historian at the Royal Society for the Encouragement of Arts, Manufactures, and Commerce, a unique organization the subject his first book Arts and Minds: How the Royal Society of Arts Changed a Nation, which we’ll have to have a conversation about one of these days.
His substack is Age of Invention, which I highly recommend. Our conversation focuses on three essays he wrote nearly two years ago: "Cort Case"; "Does History Have a Replication Crisis?"; and "Open History". -
During the age of the European Renaissance, a new people was discovered. Not the Aztecs, or the Maya, or the Inca, but a mysterious people with an intriguing language who had once dominated Europe itself. These were the Celts. And their discoverers were not conquistadores or maritime adventurers, but dusty scholars, learning their eighth or fourteenth language, rummaging through dusty manuscripts. Yet somehow, as my guest Ian Stewart describes in his new book The Celts: A Modern History, these dusty scholars birthed a craze for Celticness which has lasted into our own day. It also became linked to some of the most powerful forces in the modern world, nationalism and racialism. How this happened is the argument of Ian Stewart’s book and the topic of our conversation today.
Ian Stewart is a Research Fellow at the University of Edinburgh. The Celts is his first book. -
In April 1769 a small British vessel sailing along the southern coast of Hispaniola discovered a shipwreck near the current border of Haiti and the Dominican Republic. An investigation found no survivors aboard. But they also found a log which identified that ship as the Black Prince. And there the mystery might have ended. But over the next eight years, “ship’s crew members surfaced in unexpected places and recounted its demise.”
That demise is part of the story in James H. Sweet’s Mutiny on the Black Prince: Slavery, Piracy, and the Limits of Liberty in the Revolutionary Atlantic World. But so too is how the Black Prince came to be wrecked on the Hispaniolan reef; how its crew escaped; and how the owners of the ship, and the interest they represented, took their own revenge. Above all it is a story of how Atlantic slavery was linked not only to commerce, but nearly every other corner of the 18th century world.
James H. Sweet is the Vilas-Jartz Distinguished Professor of History at the University of Wisconsin-Madison, and a past president of the American Historical Association. He has previously been the prize-winning author of Recreating Africa: Culture, Kinship, and Religion in the African-Portuguese World, 1441-1770 and Domingos Álvares, African Healing, and the Intellectual History of the Atlantic World.
-
Lists of important Roman historians would certainly include cerebral Polybius (who, to be fair, was also Greek); the friend of Augustus, Titus Livius; the austere Tacitus; and the gossipy Suetonius,. To one extent or another, all of them were participant observers–not simply historians, but actors in the drama of Roman life and politics.
Not usually included on this list of great Roman participant-historians is Cassius Dio. Like Polybius, he was Greek. But since he was born somewhere between 155 and 165 AD, and died in the 230s, the Mediterranean world had changed quite a bit since Polybius’ time, three centuries before. For Cassius Dio was a Roman senator, and he served and wrote during a time of unprecedented tumult within the Roman Empire. He is often the only source for a variety of events, even ones which occurred centuries before his own lifetime. But was he simply a Tacitus wannabe? Or an important and influential historian in his own right?
With me to talk about Cassius Dio is Colin Elliot, Professor of History at Indiana University. He hosts his own podcast, Pax Romana, where you can hear many verbal footnotes to Cassius Dio, which helped inspire this discussion. Colin’s last appearance on Historically Thinking was in Episode 351, when we talked about this book Pox Romana: The Plague That Shook the Roman World. -
It was the greatest popular uprising in western Europe prior to the French Revolution. By spring 1525, across regions of what are now Austria, Germany, Switzerland, and France, armed bands of peasants marched to defeat their lords and to overturn the social and religious hierarchy that had existed for centuries. At least 100,000 people were involved, and likely many more. When it collapsed in the summer of 1525, perhaps 1% of the regions population were killed in just two months, making it a summer of fire and blood.
Which, as it happens, is the title of my guest’s new book. Lyndal Roper is the Regius Professor of History at University of Oxford. Her most recent book Summer of Fire and Blood: The German Peasant’s War. -
If English speakers—or French speakers, or Spanish speakers, or really most any speaker of any language other than Greek…or Turkish—think about the Greek Revolution at all, then that’s amazing. If they do not, then they continue to ignore one of the most consequential collection of events in the 19th century, a series of imperial overlaps, social convulsions, massacres, sieges, expulsions, and sometimes battles that not only resulted in an independent Greece, but also changed forever the culture of the eastern Mediterranean, and birthed nationalism as a successful way of not only theorizing but of being.
My guest Yanni Kotsonis is Professor of History at New York University, where he was founding director of the Jordan Center for the Advanced Study of Russia. Raised in Athens, he was educated in Montreal, Copenhagen, London, and Moscow. His most recent book is The Greek Revolution and the Violent Birth of Nationalism, which is the subject of our conversation today. -
Marcus Tullius Cicero lived from 106 BC to his murder in 43 BC. He was a writer, a philosopher, a traveller, a consul of the Roman Republic, and perhaps one of the last people to take the Roman Republic seriously–even when it was long past its shelf date. But most importantly, Cicero was a lawyer—and it was his practice of the law that was at the heart of his philosophy, politics, and devotion to the republic.
Josiah Osgood has written a biography of Cicero that is a biography of some of his most famous legal cases. Through this narrative, we see a gifted young lawyer literally take the stage in Rome, and over a career make impassioned speeches that will in time would undermine that same republic which he held so dear.
Josiah Osgood is professor of classics at Georgetown University. A winner of the Rome Prize, he is the author of six books on Roman history, the most recent of which is Lawless Republic: The Rise of Cicero and the Decline of Rome.
-
He was and has been criticized as a “mere burrower into archives”; as a dry man without any ideas; as a painter of miniatures rather than of broad portraits; as a conservative by liberals, and insufficiently dogmatic by conservatives; as motivated by the Lutheran religion of his forebears, but also as a scholar set against teleology and mysticism.
This was Leopold von Ranke, born in 1795, dying in Berlin in 1886. Over his long life, he not only influenced the historical world by his writings, but by his students, and their students. Through his teaching and his examples, he altered not only the historical profession in Germany, but in the United States as well through the horde of Americans who passed through faculties of history whose members had been trained by Ranke, or by one of his students. He did not invent the footnote or the insistence upon using primary sources, but arguably more than anyone else established them as part of the apparatus of history as a social science.
With me to talk about Leopold von Ranke is Suzanne Marchand, Boyd Professor of European Intellectual History at Louisiana State University. This September, she was elected to the Presidency of the American Historical Association for 2026. This is her fourth appearance on Historically Thinking; she was last with us as part of our continuing series on intellectual humility and historical thinking.
-
Listeners to this podcast are certainly aware of the saying that “all roads lead to Rome”; and, given this audience, you might even be aware that this probably derived from the observation mīlle viae dūcunt hominēs per saecula Rōmam, made by the 12th century theologian and poet Alain de Lille. But what is the history of the Roman roads, or rather, what is the history of how people imagined and related to the Roman Roads? And how has that imaginary influenced the ways that we think of Rome, the classical world, roads, travel, and perhaps even the powers of the state?
That Roman roads actually have produced a social imaginary should perhaps be a little more mysterious to us. After all, as my guest writes:
Many roads do go without saying. They’re not aesthetically exciting. They’re functional and mundane. We notice roads when they have problems – a traffic jam or accident. When the journey is smooth they’re not worthy of comment. (I noted, while researching, how rarely the word ‘road’ is indexed.) And yet for centuries the Roman roads have been a source of fascination.
Those were the words of Catherine Fletcher, Professor of History at Manchester Metropolitan University, and author most recently of The Roads to Rome: A History of Imperial Expansion. This is her second appearance on Historically Thinking; she was last here in Episode 166 talking about her book The Beauty and the Terror: The Italian Renaissance and the Rise of the West. -
“He was a bold man who first ate an oyster,” observed Jonathan Swift; and in fact the first human interaction with the Atlantic Ocean was probably eating shellfish, traces of which can be found along the Western Cape of South Africa dating back 160,000 years ago. When humans began to finally live in numbers along the ocean coast, their culture changed. They took their food from it, and from the shoreline, and their metals from the rocks and marshes along its coast. In time they built boats capable of venturing along those coasts, and then gradually farther and farther out. All of this, my guest John Haywood argues, was foundational for what was to come. He writes:
The history of the pre-Columbian Atlantic is…the where and when that Europeans served their apprenticeships in ocean navigation, commerce and colonialism, and that saw them formulate the ideologies they used to justify their territorial claims and their exploitation of colonized peoples. When Europeans finally broke out onto the world’s oceans in the sixteenth century, they already had everything they needed to secure global domination.
John Haywood is a historian of the Vikings, and of the early maritime history of the North Atlantic. The author of numerous books, his latest is Ocean: A History of the Atlantic before Columbus.
-
“India has 2,000,000 million gods, and worships them all,” wrote Mark Twain, following his 1896 speaking tour of British India. “In religion other countries are paupers; India is the only millionaire.” Twain was exaggerating, but perhaps only a little. Consider that Hinduism, Buddhism, and Jainism all took form some 2,500 years ago in South Asia, that they and their offshoots are now practiced by hundreds of millions of people around the world, and you will see how that wealth has been spread about.
In his new book Religions of Early India: A Cultural History, Richard H. Davis explores how that wealth was accumulated, and how it began to be spent. Beginning from before the earliest written records–which are, for a Western historian, astonishingly early–he traces the story forward to thirteen hundred years before the present, in approximately 700 AD, just as the entire Afro-Eurasian world was about to be transformed by the advent of Islam.
Richard H. Davis is Professor Emeritus and Research Professor of Religion at Bard College. His primary research and teaching interests include classical and medieval Hinduism, Indian history, South Asian visual arts, and Sanskrit. He is author of, among numerous other books, The Bhagavad Gita: A Biography. Religions of Early India is his most recent, and is the subject of our conversation today. -
In the first months of 1939, before the world changed, Elzbieta Zawacka had an MA degree in Mathematics, and was an enthusiastic instructor in Poland’s “Women’s Military Training” organization, established to prepare women for service in a future war. When that war came, Elzbieta believed from the start that she was a soldier as much as any man. Under Nazi occupation she established espionage networks, and then served as a courier for the Polish Home Army. Sent to England, she there trained as a member of the Polish Special Operations Group known as the “Silent Unseen”; when she returned to Poland she did so as the only woman to arrive during the war by parachute. Elzbieta fought in the Warsaw uprising, and survived its collapse. Following the Soviet takeover of Poland, she became a teacher. But in 1951 she was arrested and tortured by the Security Service, and spent four years in prison before her sentence was commuted. As a consequence her heroism and achievements were erased from national memory, until the fall of the Communist regime.
With me to discuss the life and achievements of this amazing woman is Clare Mulley, whose books have recovered the stories and experience of women who served during the First and Second World Wars. They have included a biography of the founder of Save the Children; the story of a Polish-born British special agent; and the stories of Nazi Germany’s only two female test pilots. Her most recent book is Agent Zo: The Untold Story of a Fearless World War II Resistance Fighter, which is the subject of our conversation today.
For Further Investigation
Cichociemni–The Silent Unseen
Silent Unseen: The Polish Special Forces of Audley End -
In the sixteenth century wealthy men and women began to collect books. With these they began to furnish a new room in the house which they called the studiolo. In the “little study” one could read in happiness and contentment, safe from an external world beset by wars and plague. They could conduct conversations with their contemporaries by letter, and with the dead of past ages through their reading. The studiolo became an extension of their intellect, and of their personality.
But the studiolo was also a place from which those religious and political conflicts were conducted. And the studiolo was, in the contemporary imagination, a place of potential madness. After all, it was reading in solitude that infected the brain of that noble gentleman Don Quixote de la Mancha; obsessive reading that undermined the power of Duke Prospero of Milan, and resulted in his exile on a far off island with his daughter Miranda; and reading that turned Dr. Faustus to seek power through a diabolical bargain.
With me to discuss the studiolo in history and literature is Andrew Hui, Associate Professor of the Humanities at Yale-NUS College in Singapore. His most recent book is The Study: The Inner Life of Renaissance Libraries, which is the focus of our conversation today.
-
Many college professors like to remind each other that no other nation on earth has the system of collegiate sports that has developed in the United States, one in which the mishaps of a mediocre football team attract much more attention than what goes on in classrooms, labs, and libraries–and yes, I am thinking of the University of Virginia. These professors love to quote Cornell President Andrew Dickson White refusing to allow the Cornell football team to travel to a game with Michigan: “I will not permit thirty men to travel four hundred miles to agitate a bag of wind.” They remember that the University of Chicago had a football team and even a stadium, until President Robert Hutchins killed the program, declaring it an “infernal nuisance.”
But they’re less likely to know that it was that same Andrew Dickson White who nourished Cornell intercollegiate athletics, financially supporting the Cornell crew team so that they could beat Harvard and Yale. And professors are even less likely to contemplate an awful historical truth, that college sports have always enjoyed a symbiotic relationship to the university that hosts them, and that they have grown and changed in more or less the same way that the American university has grown and changed. Far from being a peripheral accident of history, college sports reveal important insights into American higher education.
Such is the argument of my guests Eric A. Moyen and John Thelin. Eric A. Moyen is a professor of higher education leadership and the Assistant Vice President for Student Success at Mississippi State University. John R. Thelin is the University Research Professor Emeritus of the history of higher education and public policy at the University of Kentucky. Both of them have written numerous books on both American higher education and college sports. Now they have co-written College Sports: A History.
-
When did old age in America first begin? That is, when did we first begin to conceive ideas about a stage of life in which older people no longer participated in the labor force, but nevertheless had a meaningful place in the world, deserving of respect, security, and dignity.
My guest James Chappel argues that this is an idea that became prominent in the American consciousness at a certain point in time–namely, the 1935 Social Security Act. It was, he believes, one of the key moments in the cultural transformations of how Americans think about old age, and how we treat the aged. These ideas and moments were shaped by activists, practical politicians, medical advancements, and cultural models ranging from Edward Bellamy’s Looking Backward to the TV show “The Golden Girls.”
James Chappel is the Gilhuly Family Associate Professor of History at Duke University and a senior fellow at the Duke Aging Center. The author of Catholic Modern, his interests are in the intellectual history of modern Europe and the United States, focusing on themes of religion, gender, and the family. He lives in Durham, North Carolina. His most recent book is The Golden Years: How Americans Invented and Reinvented Old Age, and it is the subject of our conversation today. - Visa fler
