Historical Time

One of the things I try to teach my daughter is how to live in historical time. By this I mean something in between deep time and the present. I try to regularly explain what is new in our environment and what is old. “When your mother and I were young, nobody had cell phones.” “When your grandfather was young, there were hardly any televisions.” “When your great-grandfather was young, there were no refrigerators, and hardly any cars.” “All the roads you see were built since your great-grandfather was born.”

We carry this back to trains, ships, horse transport, etc. And, of course, medicine. The change in ordinary human lives since her great-grandfather was born in the 1890s is simply staggering. It took me many years to learn to see the present as a snapshot of the ongoing change and development of our world. I’m hoping to give my daughter the ability to see that at a younger age.

Despite all the changes in historical time, human nature hasn’t really changed. Our ethical rules have changed, but our ways of thinking have not. For example, historical time doesn’t seem to come very naturally to people. How many events in history seemed to change everything, only to be forgotten? How many people think about the Lisbon Earthquake today? How many people think the future will be pretty much like the present? Everybody who thought that in the past turned out to be right in general themes, but completely wrong in detail.

On this theme I recently read Bruce Sterling’s story “Dinner in Audoghast.” It’s basically a nice retelling of Ozymandias, done before the fall rather than after.