The dangerous problem with talking about a 'balance sheet of history’

The germ of the idea that historical events can be quantified in this way may have appeared during the Enlightenment when it was thought that the application of reason and scientific methods could bring a sense of order to the past.

In fact, some early historians sought to apply the precision of mathematics, particularly from the field of economics, to the study of history.

In doing so, they believed that human progress could be accurately measured over time.

In the 18th century, thinkers like Voltaire and Edward Gibbon even began to analyze history with an eye toward causality and consequence and in some cases, weighed the costs and benefits of historical events. 

Then, during the 19th century, with the spread of industrialization and capitalism, historical events were increasingly seen through the lens of economic progress.

It was used to justify the fact that western countries were somehow more ‘advanced’ than their eastern counterparts, as economic success was correlated with historical progress and, as such, could be analyzed like a business account.

In fact, in 1860, Henry Thomas Buckle criticized traditional historians for focusing too much on biography and military history, and instead advocated for the identification of universal principles in history.

As a result, he proposed that the past followed patterns similar to those found in the natural sciences, which only reinforced the idea that historical events could be measured and compared like in biology. 

This kind of idea initially appears to have some benefits in a classroom. In particular, it presents complex historical events as simple mathematical equations, which is thought to be more accessible for the learner.

So, by finding ways of quantifying the outcomes of historical events, this method allows historians to present information in a nice, structured manner.

For instance, when assessing the impact of World War II, historians could easily calculate the economic costs, such as the $288 billion spent by the United States, and compare it to the estimated 85 million lives lost worldwide.

Such a numerical representation appears to be a helpful, concrete way of presenting data about the war.  

For some teachers, using the ‘balance sheet’ approach is a fun way to evaluate the success or failure of historical decisions made by important people.

When used in this way, students use it to weigh the benefits against the costs to present a tangible way to argue for or against the eventual outcomes.

For example, when examining the Industrial Revolution, students might compare the rise in GDP in Britain, which increased from £36 million in 1760 to £105 million by 1860, with the social costs, such as child labor and urban poverty. 

Ultimately, at its core, this method tries to promote an objective analysis of history.

By focusing on measurable data, it is thought that people can minimize subjective biases and provide a more pragmatic account of events.

This is not only useful for economic data, which I’ve used in previous examples, but also for other calculations.

For instance, when studying the Roman Empire, we can evaluate its expansion by considering both the territories gained—spanning 5 million square kilometers at its peak—and the growth in population size. 

Based upon what we’ve said so far, this kind of activity appears to be a helpful resource that can be used in conjunction with many learning strategies to examine the past.

However, when used in practice, teachers quickly find some very basic problems.

The most obvious limitation is that it oversimplifies complex events. By reducing historical moments in time to a series of numbers, it immediately risks overlooking the intricate social, cultural, and emotional dimensions that cannot be quantified in this way.

For example, when historians examine the colonization of Africa, they might focus on the economic benefits to European powers, such as the extraction of resources, but this obviously neglects the profound human costs, including the loss of life and cultural destruction.

How do we find a way to numerically summarize these consequences?  

Most importantly, this approach often fails to account for the intrinsic value of human life.

It is too often used to treat real individuals as simple numbers in a broader calculation.

In events such as the Atlantic slave trade, where millions of Africans were forcibly transported and enslaved, the human suffering involved cannot be adequately captured by an empirical analysis.

The approach might quantify the profits generated by slave labor but would struggle to convey the moral atrocity of such an institution.

At its worse, a student could attempt to quantify the suffering of millions of slaves (which is an impossible task in itself), but if they can show that the economic value of their labor was somehow a larger figure, they would reach a conclusion that slavery might be a ‘good’ thing.

This is clearly a horrific conclusion to reach, or to present to students. This flies in the face of abolitionists like William Wilberforce and Olaudah Equiano who fought to highlight the inhumanity of slavery by arguing that no amount of economic gain could justify the brutal exploitation of human beings. 

Lastly, the balance sheet approach can too easily marginalize or silence voices that do not fit neatly into its framework.

This is because it tends to prioritize dominant historical narratives, often those of powerful nations or influential figures, who provide the raw data for any numerical conclusion.

As a result, it overlooks the experiences of marginalized groups who had no way of providing an arbitrary tally of their lives in a way that can be entered into a spreadsheet.

For example, the expansion of the British Empire's exploitation of colonies for resources and labor might be seen as a positive entry on the balance sheet for Britain, but has no way of tallying the profound ethical wrongs committed against colonized peoples.

As such, by focusing solely on material outcomes, the balance sheet approach risks reinforcing a narrow, self-serving view of history that prioritizes the interests of the powerful at the expense of the downtrodden. 

In reality, history is inherently complex, as each event always involves a web of causes and consequences that cannot be easily distilled into simple conclusions.

For example, the French Revolution of 1789, which began with calls for liberty, equality, and fraternity, (which many people believe was a ‘good’ thing) also led to a decade of bloody turmoil, including the Reign of Terror and the rise of the dictatorship of Napoleon Bonaparte.

So, the Revolution is both a struggle for democratic ideals, but also a period of tremendous violence, economic hardship, and political instability.

There is no way to decide which of these two things is ‘more true’ than the other. They are both true.

Therefore, when historians explore these events, they acknowledge the incredibly diverse motivations of the participants, and the wide variety of outcomes for different social classes, as well as the long-term effects on Europe as a whole. 

Or take the case of the American Civil War, which lasted from 1861 to 1865. On the surface, it is frequently described as a conflict between the Union and the Confederacy over the issue of slavery (which most people believe is a ‘bad’ institution).

However, the war's triggers include a range of factors, such as economic differences between the North and South, states' rights, and the political ambitions of leaders like Abraham Lincoln and Jefferson Davis.

In addition, the individual experiences of the hundreds of thousands of soldiers, slaves, and civilians varied widely, and could even change from day-to-day.

And while the Emancipation Proclamation of 1863 was an important moment, it did not immediately end slavery or resolve the deep-seated racial tensions in the United States.

There is obviously no way to even begin to quantify most of these elements. 

So, is there a place for students to form their own opinion about things in the past?

Absolutely, but it should never be a simple ‘black and white’ answer that conclusively decides that there is only one ‘right’ answer.

Instead, students should examine and present a wide range of data about a topic, even the parts they personally are not entirely comfortable with.

This is because, as human beings, our initial interpretations of events are often shaped by the perspectives and biases that we bring to the table.

What people thought were ‘good’ and ‘bad’ in the past is often the opposite of what we would conclude today, and will be different again in another century.

The benefit of studying history is that over time, as we encounter new evidence, we are open to a reevaluation of our judgments. 

History involves far more than presenting an oversimplified conclusion to a complex question.

In fact, every person, event, movement, and ideology are an uncomfortable combination of both positive and negative elements.

The student of history must provide a detailed analysis of all of these things and acknowledge them without providing an arbitrary value judgment based upon unquantifiable information.

Therefore, by abandoning the ‘balance sheet’ approach in favor of a more nuanced understanding of history, it challenges students to think critically about the forces that drive historical change and to consider the multi-layers consequences of those changes on real people.

This is because any examination of history is a continuous dialogue between the past and the present, where every story, no matter how small, contributes to the broader story of us as humans.

That is why we love studying history.