Stephen J. Dunning

Much has been made of Netflix’s historical drama The Crown which charts the reign of Britain’s monarch, Her Majesty, Queen Elizabeth II.  It has been hailed and attacked for its historical accuracy and inaccuracy alike. Yet there is no denying its popularity with viewers around the world. This makes it an influential piece of TV drama and some have argued this means it is failing to spread a factual and truthful image of reality. In a recent article by Simon Jenkins published in The Guardian online, Jenkins refers to The Crown as ‘fake history’ and argues that it “…is reality hijacked as propaganda, and a cowardly abuse of artistic licence” and therefore is “…as corrosive as fake news”. He even goes so far as to suggest that The Crown should display a small ‘F’ in the corner of the screen to denote that it is ‘Fiction’. This could easily be applied the other way around; placing an ‘F’ in the corner of the screen on a documentary to denote ‘Fact’. Yet the absurdity of this view is quite astonishing and belies how our obsession with ‘fake news’ has damaged our sense of perspective.

For a start, ‘fake news’ or ‘fake history’ is nothing new at all. It is a recently coined term used to refer to the inaccurate, untruthful, or simply downright lying information, purporting to be ‘news’, spread across social media platforms and the internet. Yet, ‘fake news’ – or to use its original label ‘propaganda’ – has existed for centuries. In the reign of the current monarch’s namesake, Elizabeth I, our country’s ‘greatest playwright’ gave us the ‘history plays’. Shakespeare’s plays charting the rise and fall of the Plantagenet dynasties and the ultimate ‘victory’ of the Tudors were to Elizabethan England what The Crown is to modern audiences – namely one interpretation of recent historical events. Shakespeare’s plays were both propaganda and documentary, fiction and fact.

Another example is the endless use of the invention of the printing press to spread huge numbers of pamphlets with all sorts of ideas, interpretations and propaganda, much of which was much more thinly veiled in their attacks on those in power than anything we have today. As the historian, Lucy Worsley, recently showed us in her documentary Royal History’s Biggest Fibs pamphlets depicting Marie Antoinette as a monster and referencing her allegedly ‘perverted’ sexual interests as well as her extravagance that ‘bankrupted’ France were all too common. Much of this was either complete fabrication or a misrepresentation of reality created for political purposes. There is no factual evidence to support the claim that Marie was sexually ‘perverted’ and it was in reality France’s financial support of the American War of Independence that bankrupted the country – Marie’s extravagant spending on dresses and shoes was mere peanuts in comparison and barely made an impact on France’s finances. However, what the propaganda pamphlets tell us is how some people in France expressed their dissatisfaction with its rulers – making personal attacks on Marie was simply a more effective and provocative method of doing so. Ultimately, it achieved its end; the revolutionaries were persuaded by the propaganda, and persuaded the people of France to believe the propaganda, and they lopped off her head.

This does indeed point to the dangerous influence of such ‘fake news’ but it also shows us, if we open our eyes for long enough, that we are blundering straight into a trap. When our attention is focused in the wrong direction, we allow ourselves to believe in a simplistic and unrealistic version of the world around us. Either we believe entirely in the interpretation given to us, or dismiss it in favour of another, just as simplistic, view. This means we lose sight of what is most valuable about any piece of historical drama, art, documentary or propaganda; the significant thing they tell us is not what actually happened but rather what people think or feel about what actually happened. It tells us something about how others perceive reality and the world around them – an understanding of this is far more powerful and useful than simple facts. Why? Because humans are generally not rational beings; they do not focus on facts but emotions, perceptions and ideas. These are what make a difference to an individual’s life and experience and in so doing make or change history. As any good anthropologist will tell you, humans may at times exhibit simplistic behavioural patterns but human relationships and cultures as a whole are far more complex. They cannot, and should not, be reduced to simplistic notions of fact or fiction. Any attempt to do so renders itself subject to limitations inherent in boiling down something complex into something simple, thereby losing much of what is valuable in and to our understanding.

These days, most people get their news direct to their phone, either through journalism apps for the newspapers or the BBC, or by simply scrolling through their Facebook and other social media. For years we have defended our right to ‘free speech’ – the idea that to say something or think something is not criminal unless it can be proven to break our few regulatory laws on libel and deformation. This means that, when it comes to news and ideas, pretty much anyone can say anything and thereby influence their fellow humans. The problem with this is that we then find it hard to accept that what some people say may not agree with our understanding of reality and we consider it wrong or dangerous for others to believe their side. While there is some truth in this, the reality is that we cannot have it both ways – we cannot have our cake and eat it. Our supposed solution to this is to force everyone to qualify what they say with labels such as ‘opinion’, ‘fact’ or ‘fiction’ or give their source information in a bibliography. While it may be ethically right for them to do so, this focuses our attention too much in the wrong direction. As Lucy Worsley says in her documentary, history is a ‘cacophony of voices’ – by this she means that our understanding of history is dependant on the interpretation given to us and that there is a vast number of voices trying to give us their interpretation. Where Jenkins, Worsley and I all agree is that we must get better at discerning the factual accuracy and truth of each interpretation – where we differ is on how we do so. To my mind, a reliance on each voice to state categorically one way or the other is far too simplistic to be of any real use – in reality, it may even cause more harm than good in that it will encourage us to dismiss or lose sight of the value in understanding what any given interpretation tells us about that individual’s experience of reality. Instead, we should focus our attention on equipping individuals with the tools to discern for themselves the differences between each voice or interpretation.

As an historian and genealogist, one is taught to follow a certain rigour when discerning, evaluating, and understanding our source of information. Our first question is; where did they get their information from? So, we trace the information back to its original source and then try to evaluate the accuracy or value of this source. Our next question is; do other sources agree with this one? So, we look for a variety of sources, from a variety of origins, giving us a variety of information and interpretation. By doing so, we can ‘corroborate’ our source information. By this is meant that at the end of the process we can make some form of qualified statement such as ‘based on a number of sources providing the same information, we can say with relative certainty that this event happened at this time and place’. Note here the phrase ‘relative certainty’ which is rather like the phrase used in court cases – ‘beyond reasonable doubt’. This means that we cannot be absolutely certain, we cannot prove entirely, that something happened – but based on the evidence we do have, we are 99% sure that it happened. This, combined with our ability to show which sources we used, allows us to maintain a certain level of objective process by which we are able to evaluate and determine the factual accuracy of our sources. But the process does not stop there. Our next question is; so, what else does this source tell us? Or what does the difference in information between these two sources tell us? This is where interpretation comes in. By analysing what any given source tells us about the author’s views, opinions, or motivations, we can gain a deeper understanding of their world view and thus a more rounded understanding of the value of any given source. It is then our job, as historians, to piece all of this together and present it to our audience. In so doing, we will ourselves be providing our interpretation of not only the facts, but also of the world view of ourselves and others.

This process is undertaken to varying degrees by historians, authors, journalists, artists, film makers, documentary makers, and museum curators alike. Any historian, curator, journalist, film or documentary maker who attacks another’s work for its ‘inaccuracy’ runs the risk of hypocrisy, for their own work is ultimately one among many interpretations of both fact and opinion.

In his article, Jenkins suggests that ‘ordinary facts’ are ‘not colourful enough’ for documentary makers, that they are ‘not sufficiently damning’ and that ‘fake history carries the magic trump card: artistic licence.’ He goes on to say that “The validity of “true story” docu-dramas can only lie in their veracity. We have to believe they are true, or why are we wasting our time?” Yet Jenkins is completely missing the point of both documentary and drama. Both, ultimately, are forms of entertainment consumed by ordinary people from the comfort of their homes. The supposed difference is that one is factual and one is fiction. Yet this is an absurd oversimplification and misunderstands the intention of both. A documentary maker does not set out to simply give the facts – to do so would be incredibly boring and most people would change the channel. Rather, the documentary maker’s intention is to give an engaging account, or interpretation, of the facts. In doing so, he will be able to educate and intrigue his audience – the hope is that they will be encouraged to think about, and find out more about, the subject for themselves. This is more or less the intention of any piece of art, film making or writing, whether fiction or non-fiction.

And here, at last, we come to the crux of the matter. Our obsession with ‘fake news’ and ‘fake history’ is symptomatic of our inert and lazy attitude when it comes to what we consume on a daily basis. We tend to take at face value and either believe or disbelieve what we read or watch. But rather than attack those who create such works for our consumption, shouldn’t our focus be on improving our education system to encourage our children to think more critically for themselves, equip them with the tools to do so, and to open their eyes to the complexity of the world around them? If viewers were more substantially taught the valuable life skills employed by historians, artists, and film makers, they would be able to more effectively discern for themselves not only the deficiencies or inaccuracies in what they read or watch, but also the real value of it. They would, in other words, be able to more fully comprehend and understand the complexities of reality and the world in which we live, rather than limit themselves to the simplistic views of just one interpretation, opinion or argument. In so doing they would be better equipped to improve not only their own lives but those of their fellow humans – and enjoy the pleasures of art, literature, and drama in to the bargain.

We have simplified the way we teach history for centuries. For decades we have taught our children that Marie Antoinette said ‘let them eat cake’ when told that the people of Paris were starving because they had no bread. It is used, in theory, to demonstrate her ambivalence toward the plight of ordinary French citizens. Yet there is no evidence that she ever uttered such words. In truth, the evidence we do have suggests that this was a twisted version of something that a former French queen said more than a hundred years before the French Revolution. Instead of indoctrinating our children with simplistic views of history and the world, let’s start teaching them to think for themselves. Let’s focus on a more proactive solution to the problem of ‘fake news’ and ‘fake history’ rather than the all too simplistic reactive solutions put forward by Jenkins and others.

So, I leave you with one final thought; “There is nothing noble in being superior to your fellow man; true nobility is being superior to your former self”. This quote is usually attributed to the American journalist, Ernest Hemingway, although there is little evidence to confirm they were his words. Nonetheless, the quote itself is a powerful statement from which we have much to learn. Through advances in science, industry, education and exploration, we are more enlightened now than our predecessors. We, as a society, understand more about our world, its history and our fellow humans than previous generations. So, we should be better, do better, than them when interacting with our fellow humans and putting forward or discussing our understanding or interpretation of our world and its history. But we must take the time to learn exactly how to do so without prejudice or presumption. We must also learn to recognise that there is always more to learn; about our fellow humans; from our fellow humans; with our fellow humans; about the world in which we live. Only by being aware of the limit of our sight, even if it is farther than our forebears were able to see, can we achieve a measure of success.

And if you, dear reader, disagree with my view – for that is what it is, nothing more, nothing less – then all I ask is that you search far and wide for information before reaching your own conclusions. The more of us that do so, the better informed, enlightened, constructive and progressive the debate will be.