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You’d have to possess a heart of stone not to scoff.
- In 2023, the British Museum stopped using the word “mummy.” It now speaks of “mummified persons.”
- A year earlier, the bust of Hans Sloane, the museum’s founder, was removed from display after he was accused profiting from slavery through his wife’s family.
- In 2021, Cambridge University’s archaeology museum announced that henceforth it would post warning signs to highlight the whiteness of sculpture as part of its antiracism strategy.
These examples come from the Hungarian-Canadian sociologist Frank Furedi, who also cites another instance from Glasgow’s Burrell Collection.
A label next to a porcelain figure of the Chinese goddess of mercy, Guanyin, from the Qing Dynasty (1662–1722), states, without elaboration, that “Trans people have always existed and are rooted in history” and that the figure “reflects this, showing that gender and identity are not always fixed.”
Furedi is not a right-wing crank, despite his provocative claims that international institutions are diluting the concept of genocide, that an “academic Taliban” is erasing Western society’s past achievements and that a philistine culture is turning libraries into safe spaces for indoctrination.
While his tone can be polemical, Furedi is a prolific scholar whose work merits serious attention. History benefits from heterodoxy, which challenges entrenched assumptions and prompts new questions.
Many will find his tone or arguments off-putting. In his Substack blog, he criticizes those who seek to purge language of biases to abolish older cultural norms. He argues that an infantilizing paternalism now defines education and child rearing and that attacks on toxic masculinity dehumanize men. He sees the rise of populism as “the people’s answer to the de-nationalization of their elites.”
Though his arguments are often extreme, they shouldn’t be dismissed outright. His rhetoric may be overheated, his zeal off-putting and his claims sometimes exaggerated, but he is a genuine scholar. Engaging with his ideas is more productive than responding with disdain.
Furedi’s intellectual journey exemplifies the common theme of the renegade or dissenter who has rejected earlier beliefs and embraced a new perspective—what we might now call heterodox.
As a prolific scholar, Furedi has provided valuable insights on topics ranging from moral panics and the sociology of knowledge to therapy culture, the history of reading, parenting practices and shifts in colonial racial ideologies and children’s socialization.
His genealogy of the concepts of inattention and distraction is particularly eye-opening. He traces these concepts back to the early 18th century, showing how the sacralization of attention emerged alongside the Enlightenment, becoming moralized and medicalized by figures like German physician Melchior Adam Weikard, Scottish doctor Alexander Crichton and Anglo-Irish author Maria Edgeworth.
Unlike the French philosopher Claude Adrien Helvétius, who believed in the potential for everyone to acquire “continued attention,” Furedi argues that today’s educators see sustained attention as nearly impossible amid digital distractions.
He has also examined:
- The evolution of child-related mental health and behavioral disabilities, arguing that this focus trivializes normal childhood challenges while neglecting severe mental ailments.
- The mutation of science into scientism, a depoliticized ideology that avoids appearing ideological.
- The erosion of social rituals surrounding sex, friendship and workplace relationships; the use of sex to sell consumer goods; the sexual adultification of children; and the politicization of sexual identities and sex education.
- The decline in utopian visions, as seen in the works of Hannah Arendt and Albert Camus, who condemned aspirations toward utopia, thereby hindering our ability to envision a truly different future.
Furedi’s latest book, The War Against the Past, urges Western educators to defend their history. Triggered by the October 2020 incident in Portland, Ore., where protesters toppled a statue of Abraham Lincoln, Furedi sees this as emblematic of a broader trend toward iconoclasm—erasing key symbols of a people’s collective history, values and achievements.
Furedi criticizes museum curators and educators for engaging in “grievance archaeology,” which he describes as the practice of uncovering historical injustices to delegitimize European and British history in the present.
He starkly warns that “the academic Taliban is coming for Western history,” expressing concern that a new generation of historians is depriving students of a shared memory and attachment to traditions rooted in the past while undermining its ideals and achievements.
Furedi likens this attack on Western history to the destruction of cultural heritage by radical jihadists in Afghanistan, Syria and Iraq, arguing that while sculptures in Cambridge haven’t been physically destroyed, they have been morally tainted and their cultural significance questioned.
While such observations are common in conservative critiques of how history is presented in museums and classrooms, it’s important to engage with both the value of Furedi’s argument and its shortcomings. He rightly argues that abandoning the teaching of Western civilization, rather than reimagining it to include its borrowings, appropriations and crimes, is a mistake:
“To uphold and defend the legacy of Western civilization is not to idealize its representatives and the behavior of those it influenced over the centuries. The history of Western civilization contains inspiring stories of noble deeds as well as destructive and appalling acts that led to the terrible suffering of millions of people. Its unique record of scientific and philosophical achievements often ran in parallel with irrational and superstitious behavior. This was a civilization that developed and practiced the humanist ideal of tolerance but was at the same time capable of grotesque acts of intolerance that dehumanized its targets.”
Among other things, his book:
- Traces the development of historical consciousness in Western societies—how history has shaped the present, offers lessons and influences future possibilities.
- Analyzes recurrent attempts to break with and repudiate the past and begin history anew.
- Critically assesses the tendency to fail to recognize the pastness of the past, highlighting examples of anachronism, presentism, caricature and the erosion of temporal and contextual boundaries.
- Discusses how the concept of identity has become increasingly problematic as it has become politicized and severed from historical and cultural narratives.
Furedi argues that teaching Western civilization, despite its mixed legacy, is crucial for understanding the complexities and contradictions that have shaped the modern world. As the world becomes more global and interconnected, studying Western civilization remains essential.
For one, it’s key to understanding the foundations of modernity. Western civilization has significantly shaped many political, legal and social structures that influence global institutions today. Studying its history provides insights into the origins of concepts like democracy, human rights, the rule of law and scientific inquiry.
It also helps students appreciate the double-edged nature of progress. Western civilization, like others, is marked by both achievements and atrocities. Teaching this history helps students understand that progress is neither linear nor unblemished. The coexistence of noble ideals with destructive behaviors underscores the importance of critical reflection on how societies evolve and the responsibilities that come with power and influence.
In addition, studying Western civilization contextualizes global interactions. Understanding the historical context of Western influence, both positive and negative, allows for a more nuanced view of current global dynamics, including the legacies of colonialism, the spread of Western ideas and resistance to European and U.S. influence.
It’s crucial to neither glorify nor demonize the past. Students need to learn how ideals like humanism and enlightenment emerged alongside intolerance and oppression, providing a framework for understanding and addressing contemporary issues of injustice and inequality.
Karl Marx famously stated that “the tradition of all dead generations weighs like a nightmare on the brain of the living,” reflecting his belief that history acts as a burden, constraining the present with outdated ideas, social structures and modes of production. Marx saw the past as a hindrance to progress, trapping societies in cycles of oppression and preventing the emergence of revolutionary change. For him, historical traditions, rooted in the interests of the ruling class, perpetuate inequality and stifle the development of a just society.
In contrast, Cicero called history life’s teacher (“historia magistra vitae”), viewing it as a guide for present and future actions. He believed that by studying history, societies could learn valuable lessons from past successes and failures, offering wisdom that informs ethical decisions, governance and personal conduct. History, in this view, helps navigate life’s complexities by drawing on the experiences of the past.
The tension between these perspectives highlights a fundamental debate: Marx sees history as a potential trap that must be critically analyzed and transcended to achieve social change, while Cicero views it as a source of knowledge and moral guidance that enriches the present.
Furedi’s book echoes Winston Churchill’s assertion that “a nation that forgets its past has no future,” implying that a society disconnected from its history risks losing its identity and ability to navigate future challenges.
Teaching history shouldn’t be reduced to ancestor worship or nostalgia but be a rigorous effort to understand the roots of contemporary issues, the evolution of societal norms and how human behavior has responded to various challenges over time.
This approach to history draws lessons not just in terms of right or wrong or good and evil, but in understanding the causes and effects of actions, policies and ideologies. Studying history also provides insights into human nature, revealing our motivations, aspirations and recurring patterns of behavior.
Ultimately, teaching history equips individuals with the tools to understand their place in the world, recognize the continuity and change that define human societies and apply past lessons to build a more informed future.
Furedi wages his own war against generational chauvinism—the belief that our society is morally superior to its predecessors. This attitude breeds hubris, overlooks the norms and circumstances that shaped past behaviors and dismisses the sacrifices and advances made by those who laid the groundwork for today’s freedoms.
Many historical figures contributed positively to societal progress, even if their actions or beliefs don’t align with today’s standards. Generational chauvinism risks condemning these figures without recognizing their contributions and the limitations of their time. By oversimplifying history into “good” versus “bad” narratives, we lose the nuance and complexity needed for a full understanding of human development.
Dismissing the past as morally backward prevents society from learning from historical mistakes and successes. While it’s crucial to acknowledge past flaws, it’s equally important to approach history with humility, understanding and a willingness to learn from both its achievements and failures.
Perhaps you recall the 1943 film The Life and Times of Colonel Blimp, one of the most influential British films. It follows Clive Wynne-Candy, a British soldier who rises to become a general. The story begins with Wynne-Candy as an older man, out of touch with the modern world, and flashes back to his younger days to reveal how he became the man he is.
The film suggests that the world has changed so profoundly that the old codes of conduct, once noble and honorable, have become outdated and even dangerous. It questions whether rigid adherence to tradition is worth the cost in a world demanding adaptability and pragmatism, while also acknowledging the value of those traditions and the pain of their loss.
One reviewer noted, “This glorious film is about the greatest mystery of all: how old people were once young and how young people are in the process of becoming old.”
The film explores themes such as the transformation of warfare from the supposedly gentlemanly conduct of the 19th century to the total war of the 20th century. Wynne-Candy embodies the old-fashioned, chivalrous soldier who believes in honor and fair play, while the changing nature of war, especially in World War II, requires a more ruthless, pragmatic approach.
It also examines what it means to be British, contrasting the idealized image of Britishness—honor, integrity and fair play—with the harsher realities of war and global politics. The film suggests that these traditional values, while noble, may no longer suffice in the face of totalitarian threats.
Wynne-Candy’s journey from a confident young officer to a bewildered older man mirrors Britain’s transformation, questioning whether the old ways can or should survive in a rapidly changing world.
The recurring appearance of Deborah Kerr as three different women in Wynne-Candy’s life (his first love, Edith; his wife, Barbara; and a young army driver named Angela) highlights unfulfilled romantic love, the comfort of companionship and the bittersweet nature of memories, suggesting that love, in its many forms, is central to shaping one’s life.
I would liken Furedi to Colonel Blimp: Someone whose deep love for a particular vision of the past makes him highly critical of the present, yet his judgments, though rooted in nostalgia, are not entirely wrong. I’ve certainly been guilty of that myself.
As we age, we typically view the present through a declensionist lens. We might see students as less academically prepared or criticize contemporary architecture, music, poetry, drama and dance as lacking the beauty and depth of earlier works.
This perspective reflects the nostalgia trap—the tendency to idealize the past and overlook its complexities while focusing on its perceived virtues.
However, not all changes are positive. Progress inevitably involves gains and losses. Technological advances may enhance efficiency but can also erode certain skills and traditions. Shifts in cultural norms might expand freedoms but may also diminish values or expressions once cherished.
Recognizing this duality is crucial. While it’s important not to romanticize the past, it’s equally vital to critically assess changes, understanding that progress can bring both improvement and diminishment. By maintaining a balanced perspective, we can appreciate the present’s achievements while preserving and valuing the best aspects of the past, ensuring that progress enriches rather than impoverishes our cultural and intellectual heritage.
In an important 2021 essay, psychiatrist Scott Alexander Siskind raises a question that vexes many cultural analysts: What explains the widespread embrace of modernism (and later, postmodernism) across the arts? Was this shift driven by a fundamental change in aesthetic sensibilities, a form of social signaling where taste became a marker of class and status or a deepening divide between art and mass culture?
Siskind astutely notes that popular culture never fully embraced modernism. While modernist and contemporary poetry often avoids rhyme and rhythm, pop music does not. Few works of contemporary high culture resemble The Odyssey, but superhero movies certainly do. Modern art may lean toward abstraction, but video games emphasize colorful, ornate and highly realistic scenes. Even domestic architecture largely draws on older forms like colonial, Cape Cod, craftsman and Victorian styles.
When columnist Ross Douthat’s daughter asked why architects don’t build structures as beautiful as the Roman Pantheon, he explained that it wasn’t just about economics and labor costs. The embrace of modern architecture, which he describes as “hyperutilitarian or gobsmackingly ugly,” reflects a deeper issue:
“The decline of beauty, grace and ornament in public architecture reflects a collapse of humanist confidence and religious faith, an abandonment of the assumption that human artifice is tapping into some deeper cosmic order, a fatal surrender to bad ideas about aesthetics and human life itself.”
Whether one views the embrace of modernism as an advance or a regression, understanding and evaluating the profound shift in sensibilities that took root in the early 20th century among avant-garde artists, architects, authors and composers, as well as among anthropologists, educators and psychologists, is essential to the study of the arts and humanities.
Furedi, despite his conservative leanings, is best understood as heterodox—someone who challenges accepted beliefs. In an era when historical legacies are often dismissed, he argues that teaching Western civilization is crucial for preserving the values and structures that have shaped modern society while offering essential lessons on the dual-edged nature of progress.
He critiques the trends of medicalizing and psychologizing normal human behavior, the erosion of respect for authority and objective standards, and defends the importance of national boundaries in maintaining societal cohesion, asserting that these elements are vital to a healthy, stable society.
Furedi named his recently shuttered blog “Roots and Wings,” inspired by Goethe’s phrase “There are only two lasting bequests we can hope to give our children. One of these is roots, the other, wings.”
“Roots” represent a strong foundation—grounded in values, traditions, cultural heritage and identity. They provide stability, helping children understand where they come from, who they are and the principles they should live by. This grounding gives them a sense of belonging and security, enabling them to face life’s challenges with confidence.
“Wings,” on the other hand, symbolize the freedom to explore, dream and pursue their own paths. Giving children wings means encouraging their independence, creativity and the courage to step beyond the familiar to discover new possibilities. It’s about empowering them to reach their full potential, take risks and forge their own destinies.
These metaphors capture the balance essential in raising well-rounded individuals. Roots without wings might lead to a life too confined or fearful of change, while wings without roots could result in aimlessness or a lack of direction. By providing both, we equip the next generation with the tools they need to thrive—grounded in who they are, yet free to explore who they can become.
Let’s not forsake that responsibility.