Two Very Different Approaches to Automotive History

Little has changed since 1936 when G.K. Chesterton wrote “I wonder if anybody has yet written a History of the Motor-Car. I am certain thousands must have written books more or less purporting this; I am also certain that most of them consist of advertisements for particular makes and models.” To extend Chesterton’s thoughts rarely is automotive history integrative or contextual in merging themes and episodes related to culture, the automotive industries, and main currents in American life. Without getting personal or critical, one can find plenty of historical narrative that are extensions of the journalism that first described the person, place, or thing at the time of the event. Indeed, a similar malady is pervasive to the writing of all of history. One widespread sin is that of well-worn tales repackaged with little if any critical analysis and a reexamination of the evidence. The story line rarely changes. Indeed, history, including automotive history, often needs to be saved from itself.  

                  Everyone, including myself, are guilty of this sin. New interpretations require archival research, critical thought, and inordinate amounts of time. And we are constrained by the practices within our particular tribes. The “buff” historians are often easily pigeon-holed by their tight, non-contextual focus, along with the omission of the footnote or reference. Typical work is akin to 19^thcentury natural history, sort of a science of describing engines, suspensions, and chassis.  Further, a critical reader has no idea where the work came from or how the past was reconstructed. 

Aldo Leopold, in his Sand County Almanac, characterized “good History” as using the saw, wedge and axe when felling a tree and examining its rings.  Along similar lines, Carl L. Becker in his 1930 Presidential Address to the American Historical Association deftly depicted that the “buff” or everyman historian  “selects only such facts as may be relevant; and that the relevant facts must be clearly established by the testimony of independent witnesses not self-deceived. He does not know, or need to know, that his personal interest in the performance is a disturbing bias, which will prevent him from learning the whole truth or arriving at ultimate causes….on that low pragmatic level he is a good historian precisely because he is not disinterested: he will solve his problems, if he does solve them, by virtue of his intelligence and not by virtue of his indifference.”

Buffs are to be viewed with caution in terms of the evidence they present. Indeed, their evidence is both experiential and usually uncited. Usually their work can not be reconstructed and thus tested. They see the trees but rarely the forest. And their work, often found on coffee tables, can rarely be found in most libraries. With a relatively voluminous number of readers, often enthusiast authors consider the need for context and meaning to be nothing more than malarkey. Instinctively “buff” historians need the academic historian for legitimacy, but only at arm’s length, for they often wish to pursue “anecdotal” accounts, in a sense glorifying self. “Buff’s” have a ready audience, while academics rarely do.

But what about academics who can paint a forest scene, but do not know the differences of tree species?  And indeed, context without understanding and appropriate detail is malarkey. What good is explanation without solid substance? Thus, academics also need the enthusiasts, and I would argue that their knowledge is absolutely critical to the quality of scholarship. They are a font of knowledge and insights, and incidentally, are frequently more fun to be around than historians. They serve also as a check on the truth, particularly on the microscopic level. Many worked on the assembly lines, or in design studios and executive offices. In a business where archives are few and far between and knowledge is often kept close to the vest, they serve as rich sources. In terms of motor sports history, how many of us can claim to have driven in a race, or piloted a race car at speed? How many of us, so comfortable in the library or in our studies, have truly diced with death? In either case, “buff” or academic, the reality is that both write work that serve as drafts or starting points for the next generation of historians. History is never static or set in stone but renews itself in part by using previously written material.