My take on change over time
In my last column, “A Blot on the Poor Law,” I noted an unintended consequence of England’s poor law: It made possible “pauper apprentices.” Had the poor law not been in existence, parishes would not have sent large numbers of children to the textile mills, where they worked long hours and were sometimes cruelly treated.
In this post, however, I want to offer a more favorable picture of the poor laws. Continue reading “The Positive Side of the English Poor Law”
I hope my readers aren’t tired of the English poor laws because, after a year or two of research, something has occurred to me that I had completely missed. There is a flaw I didn’t see. Continue reading “A Blot on the Poor Law”
According to the United Nations, 40,000 children work in the Democratic Republic of the Congo, mining for the mineral cobalt. They work for up to 12 hours a day under dangerous conditions that can be deadly when they have to go underground.
Americans may be partly responsible for their work.
Cobalt is an essential ingredient of most electric vehicle batteries, and demand for electric vehicles is growing. The U. S government is promoting and subsidizing EVs. Recently, in a House-passed infrastructure bill, a Republican congressman tried to ban the purchase of battery ingredients that depend on child labor. His amendment was struck down.
Around 1780, thousands of children as young as 5 or 6 years old began to work 12 hours or more daily in British textile mills.[1] Can we learn something from that experience?
Children had always been expected to work in England, often for long hours, but the mechanized factories brought them out of homes and workshops. The textile mills didn’t need brawn; owners wanted women and children to monitor the moving machines and piece together broken threads. Their work cost less than men’s and they were more docile. Continue reading “Child Labor—in the Congo and in the Industrial Revolution”
In studying British history, I’ve come across female British historians of the early twentieth century who helped develop economic history as a discipline. They were intellectuals; we’d call them “blue-stockings” in the United States (a few were also elegant), and they tended to delve deeply into regional archives.
Julia Mann, for example, was the expert on Britain’s pre-industrial textile industry; Ivy Pinchbeck wrote a pioneering volume about how women’s lives were changed by the Industrial Revolution; and Pat Hudson practically owned the history of woolen textiles, Britain’s largest industry before the Industrial Revolution.
I recently read a 1992 essay by Maxine Berg indicating that these historians, while well-regarded, were not taken as seriously as they should have been. [1] Berg suggests that such inattention may distort our understanding of the historiography of Britain.
I realize that historiography—the study of what historians write—may not appeal much to my readers, but that is what my master’s thesis is about. Specifically, I’m looking at what historians have said about labor conditions in the Industrial Revolution (1750-1850) and how their views changed over the years. Thus I need to know which historians helped paint the picture accurately.
And I see that some may have been left out. Continue reading “Remember the Ladies, Mr. Cannadine*”
Was the Industrial Revolution the period of great free-trade thinkers like Adam Smith and David Hume? Yes.
Was it a period of free trade? No.
One of the things that has struck me in my study of the Industrial Revolution (1750 to 1850) is how much protection the British government gave to various industries through tariffs or bans on imports.
Let’s start with wool, once Great Britain’s largest industry. From the mid-1600s, the woolen-cloth industry had kept its raw material prices low through a ban on the export of raw wool. Then at the end of the century calicoes (printed cottons from India) became quite popular. The wool industry responded by getting Parliament to ban imports of calicoes in 1700.
The law kept out Indian cotton but it opened the door to homemade British cottons! First, British companies began printing imported cloth to create calicoes; then they started producing the cloth itself.