Giants and Heroes
Which figures of the past should we learn about - and why?
Who from history do we learn about? Who should we learn about?
Kings and queens, generals and conquerors, scientists, playrights, explorers and inventors. From Elizabeth I to Napoleon, Shakespeare to Mozart, Florence Nightingale to Martin Luther King Jr - they form part of the canon of ‘common knowledge’: those whose stories we tell, and those who we expect people to have at least heard about.
In more recent years, other names have entered - or attempted to enter - this canon. Mary Seacole, Rosa Parks, Ada Lovelace, Olaudah Equiano, Frida Kahlo. Others have departed - Grace Darling, Percy Shaw, El Cid - as some have attempted to diversify the canon and to reexamine - or to rewrite - the contributions made to history.
But who should we learn about? And why?
Giants and Heroes
The truth is that it isn’t just one set of people we learn about - but two1. Let’s call them Giants and Heroes. The confusion comes when we mix them up - as occurs in the game Brass Birmingham where, as a friend memorably said, one can play as one of five titans2 of the Industrial Revolution, two women who inherited factories from their husband or a socialist.
So what’s the difference?
Giants are those who we learn about because of their outsized impact on the world. Alexander the Great, Napoleon and Ghengiz Khan shook the world with their conquests. Shakespeare and Homer composed works that have lasted centuries. Einstein, Newton, Watt and Gutenberg’s discoveries and inventions revolutionised society. Martin Luther3 and Nelson Mandela transformed their societies.
Giants need not be virtuous, admirable or otherwise endearing4. They may be: George Washington, for example, can be commended both for winning the American War of Independence and then - exceptionally, for a revolutionary leader who assumes power - peacefully surrendering his position as head of state in an orderly democratic transition5. Nelson Mandela can be admired for both his overthrow of apartheid and his suffering in prison. But they need not be - that is not why we learn about them. One need not admire them to recognise their impact or achievements.
Heroes, by contrast, are those who we learn about because we wish to be inspired by their character and virtue. Hilary and Tenzing climbing Everest, the defenders of Rourke’s Drift, Amelia Earhart, Edith Cavell or Eric Liddell could all be considered Heroes. Though famous, their deeds did not shake the world - save in the inspiration they gave to others.
Of course, just as Giants need not be Heroes, so Heroes need not be Giants. Again, they may be - but they need not be.
As the world changes, so too does the canon. But it is both easier and more appropriate to change the cast of Heroes than of Giants.
It’s not that Giants never change. We, probably rightly, place little emphasis on ‘Chinese’ Gordon of Khartoum these days. His campaigns which once loomed so momentously, dwindled with history into just another line in Britain’s Imperial history, more remembered from Corporal Jones’s references in Dad’s Army than anything else6. What once seemed significant may no longer do so a century onwards.7 Had the Civil Rights movement fizzled out in the ‘60s, only to achieve its aims in the ‘80s and ‘90s, then Martin Luther King would be a footnote in history, the Wycliffe to whichever Luther or Calvin followed.
But we have more choice of Heroes. For every person who shaped history, there are dozens, perhaps hundreds, who showed great personal courage, virtue, intrepidness or self-sacrifice from whom we can take inspiration. We are not rewriting history if we choose Heroes to seek our age.
In today’s world, the greatest new desire in Heroes is for diversity - by which people primarily mean sex and ethnicity. We live in a world where women can be explorers , scientists and political leaders - and people understandably want to show or highlight where women have done this before. Approximately 1/3 of people under 18 in England and Wales are not white - and as long as race remains a thing which matters to people’s identity8, people will wish to see examples of people who they feel are ‘like them’.9
Another, more subtle trend, is that as our society - at least in the UK - becomes safer and more peaceful, as the recollections of war fade from living memory and our daily environment becomes less hazardous, we appear to be placing less weight upon those who showed physical courage - soldiers, explorers and the like - and more on those who struggled against political or social forces, whether that is William Wilberforce or Emmeline Pankhurst. It is, perhaps, not entirely accidental that it was Cicero, not Caesar, who is the protagonist of Robert Harris’s excellent Roman trilogy, or that Hamilton is the eponymous star of the Broadway phenomenon10.
It helps, of course, if those learned about are real11. It also helps, as if I have written before, if gatekeepers do not ensure that only people of the ‘approved’ political persuasion can enter our history books. But these minor constraints allow great room for variety.
The Science Museum in London does this well. In their aeronautics section they’ve clearly made a deliberate effort to showcase a wide variety of people from the history of aviation. I can remember one bit about a World War One fighter pilot,12 Hardit Singh Malik (the ‘Flying Sikh of Biggin Hill’), which was fascinating: he went up against the Red Baron, downed multiple German planes13 and was shot down but survived. By any measure, a successful WW1 fighter pilot is going to be a remarkably bold and inspiring figure, having showed more courage than 99.9% of the museum’s visitors.
But the Wright Brothers still built the first plane.
It is right that we should seek our Heroes to suit our age. Our only mistake is if we confuse them with Giants. There is much to find inspirational, and to learn from, by reading about the life of Gertrude Bell - but it would be wrong to compare her impact to that of Columbus. Nor should we pretend that learning about the ‘black Tudors’, however interesting their lives, is as important to the period as Thomas Cromwell, Thomas Cranmer or Elizabeth I - nor that they had an impact on society in any way comparable to that which the Windrush generation or today’s mass immigration flows have had on modern British society. It is certainly not wrong to enjoy reading about them - but if one is selecting material for a crowded curriculum or packed museum display, it may not be entirely right, either.
Florence Nightingale was a Giant. The Lady of the Lamp revolutionised the field of nursing and, what is somewhat less known, made impressive contributions to statistics14. Grace Darling, the lighthouse keeper’s daughter, was not, however courageous she was. And neither, despite the efforts of some to claim it, was Mary Seacole - who though she had an interesting and adventurous life, had no major impact on the world.
It does not really matter whether, as a Hero, we learn about Grace Darling or Mary Seacole. Both are inspirational. But we should take care not to confuse either with Florence Nightingale.
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OK, this is a simplification.
Technically speaking, titans are not giants. Though both were children of Uranus and Gaia, the titans were born first and the giants later, after (and as a result of) Kronos’s castration of his father, Uranus.
And Martin Luther King.
Given their achievements, they will however almost always possess some admirable capabilities, such as great skill, hard work, courage or an ability to inspire loyalty.
I also hear he could not tell a lie.
Though not really of world-historical significance, Gordon would actually make a great Hero - or subject for a TV mini-series - as his exploits with the Ever Victorious Army being at least as exciting as his gallant death at Khartoum. However, he is not the sort of Hero our society is looking for right now.
On one level it sounds ridiculous to say that the second bloodiest war in human history is not actually that important historically speaking. But of all the things that people say should be added to the history curriculum, I’ve never once heard someone lobbying for the Taiping Rebellion - and they’re probably correct not to.
Even if in only a heritage sense.
None of which is to say that people wish only to see people like them, or can only take inspiration and learn lessons from people who are the same sex or ethnicity. This is an idiotic position. But the idea that most people like to see some of the role models being held up as being ‘like them’ along certain identity axes seems both straight-forwardly true, and unobjectionable.
I know that both Cicero and Hamilton did take part in warfare - but it’s hardly what they’re most known for.
I was in my late 30s before I discovered that the Boy Who Stuck his Finger in a Dike was not actually a true story.
The precise number is disputed.
And which, as is now traditional, I have written shortly after the end of that quarter.
Thank you for a fascinating article. You've demarkated the good and bad in this space very clearly. Also, I had not known Gordon of Khartoum had such an illustrious role in supressing the Taiping Rebellion.
race remains a think -> thing
(footnote 9) role models being helped up -> held up
"nor that they had an impact on society in any way comparable to that of the Windrush generation or today’s mass immigration flows are on modern British society" tries to grammatically jump ship mid-stream, rather like this metaphor.
"Florence Nightingale. was a Giant." I appreciate the emphasis of the full stop after Florence Nightingale, but I think her accomplishments can stand without ornamentation (the following sentence however would value another comma).