"Each has his own tree of ancestors, but at the top of all sits Probably Arboreal." - Robert Louis Stevenson

Showing posts with label Blogs. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Blogs. Show all posts

Sunday, 15 July 2012

On market forces

It has taken me some time to work up this response to the blog post What is the Nature of Genealogy as an Activity? by James Tanner of Genealogy’s Star. I found it a fascinating and thought-provoking read, but I don’t really agree with what James is saying. Trying to explain why, succinctly, has proved something of a challenge.
The discussion revolves around whether many of the websites, software etc. that are being ‘sold’ for genealogy are actually aimed at the ‘genealogical majority’, which he defines as predominantly female, over fifty and happy working at their research alone, while others do the same in parallel. James acknowledges that he is not part of this demographic, but he draws on his observations and his experience as a seasoned researcher to suggest that this is an established demographic with no movement towards or desire for change. The implication is that products are mostly being aimed at what he perceives as a two-fold yet very small ‘minority’: 1. the younger ‘beginner’ genealogist; and 2. collaborative efforts, particularly within the extended family. He ends by posing the question:
If the programs emphasize family cooperation and ‘beginners’ at the expense of providing support for the established genealogical hub individuals, doesn't that at best ignore the present structure of the community or at worst alienate the people who are actually doing genealogical research?
though I can’t be certain, I would imagine that some of these large companies that James refers to are not just guessing at their demographic; that they are carrying out at least some research to identify their ‘target audience’ and its ‘needs’. I can’t imagine that they really are producing products and marketing that are aimed at a non-existent customer. And if they were getting it that wrong, they’d all have gone bust by now!
I would venture that the interpretation of who is doing genealogy is not quite as clear-cut as James suggests. After all, just because he doesn’t see a certain type of person at the conference doesn’t mean they’re not involved in genealogy (I’m living proof!). This week I read an interesting article about homophily – best summed up by the phrase ‘birds of a feather flock together’. To my mind, James is flocking with his like-minded solitary researchers precisely by not collaborating; it doesn’t mean the other, more collaborative birds don’t exist!
That’s not to suggest that he is entirely wrong. The chances are that his assessment of the majority of the genealogical community – women in their fifties working alone – is fair. I simply propose that, combined, the ‘minorities’ may be a significantly larger segment than he thinks. And perhaps it is also a more influential one?
The existing majority is the majority because it is established; it is made up of the traditional genealogist. Probably many of them started some ten or twenty years ago, in the pre-internet, even pre-personal computer age. They rely mainly on archives and work primarily from original records, books and microfiche; they even record their findings on paper perhaps?
Ok, so this is a bit of an exaggeration, a stereotype even. Before I get bombarded with complaints a lot of older ladies who think I’m implying that they can’t even turn on a computer, let alone exploit the internet (in which case how would they even be reading this?), let me explain: My point is that they are already working in their own way and happy in their methods, in the tools they have, online or off, and that they don’t need new technology to excite and engage them in their research. They are, for the most part, excited by genealogy because they love it as a long-term pursuit with an established methodology, not as a new discovery with all the possibility that holds.
The new researchers – the young and even the older converts – are more likely to come to genealogy as part of the ‘facebook generation’ (to employ yet another stereotype). They expect and therefore demand that their genealogical tools offer them the opportunity to share, discuss and be collaborative. This is not to belittle them or imply that they are somehow less ‘serious’ as genealogists; it is simply to recognise the influence of the here and now. Of course, the traditional genealogist can choose to try out these new tools, just as the ‘newbie’ (no pun intended) can equally choose not to go down that root, but instead to follow a more traditional methodology. And of course, we can all do both – it’s not necessarily a choice of one over the other.
The demands of the newbie, however, are more accessible to a business looking to make money. The emerging niches are readily apparent, and the technology is continually evolving, which only serves to feed demand among tech-savvy consumers. In that sense, the newbie is more influential perhaps than their more traditional counterpart. These companies are simply responding to the group that may be smaller but is expressing a stronger ‘demand’ for a product, and one that is achievable.
To return to James central question then, does this focus on the ‘newbie’ and their demands mean that the makers of software developers and website owners are ignoring the present structure of the community and alienating what James describes as ‘the people who are actually doing genealogical research’ – those that I have termed the ‘traditional’ genealogists?
The simplistic answer to this question is yes; these companies are at present not providing for the traditionalist. But perhaps this is because such companies do not have the tools to cater for their needs? Or perhaps it is because this group doesn’t seem to be expressing any emerging needs at all, much less needs that these technological enterprises are able to respond to?
As James says, he is perfectly happy working in the way he always has done, alone and using what tools are already available to him. His post does not express any lack of resources or suggests anything he requires, so I wonder what exactly he thinks they should or could do? I certainly can’t think of anything further that websites and software developers could be doing for them – their ‘needs’ seem to have already been met.
My questions is, can a group that on the face of it appears to be content with the resources available to it really be ‘alienated’ by resources that cater to another group that is expressing a demand for them? I don’t think so.
Of course, it is in the interests of genealogy software and website companies to address the needs of their largest group of potential customers, so I can’t imagine that they haven’t explored this. It may be that they simply don’t see a potential product for them, and instead choose to focus their efforts on a group that is smaller, and one that may well be growing as a result.
As I said earlier, the right tools may allow co-operation to become collaboration, and this may attract those of a naturally more sociable nature to what was previously a somewhat lonely, solo pastime. This in turn enlarges their market and thus eventually the nature of the majority will change.
Whether this is a desirable development is another matter, for another post. But it goes to show that genealogy as a pursuit is not immune to market forces. The way to rectify it would be for this ‘majority’ to work out what its need is and express it, so that it can be met. Only the majority itself can change the way the market responds to it.
L x

Tuesday, 26 June 2012

X is for illiteracy

Unsurprisingly, there are no surnames beginning with X in my tree! However, I came up with an ingenious solution: X is for illiteracy.
I can only imagine that pretty much every genealogist out there has come across the obligatory X in a parish record or on a certificate, often followed by ‘his mark’ or ‘her mark’. So I decided to do a little research on the history of illiteracy.

Studies carried out in 1961 (W. P. Baker) and 1973 (Schofield) based on parish marriage records have shown that male illiteracy was about 40% from the 1700s, and had declined to around 33% by the mid-1800s. By the 1900s it had all but disappeared. However, female illiteracy was around 60% in the 1700s, and had only declined to 50% by the 1840s. The decline in female illiteracy was much more gradual, but male and female rates were about level by the 1870s.
Of course, the problem is that parish marriage records don’t actually prove literacy, only whether or not you were able to sign your name. For that you wouldn’t technically need to be able to read or write any more than that! Generally, we assume that if you can write you can therefore read, so that these parish records studies might actually miss out those who can read but not write. But I also think lots of people might have been able to write their names and not much else. They only give us a very limited view, whereas in fact there would have been lots of degrees of literacy.
This useful Wiki from Leeds University, has the following to say:
“Reading was seen as a primarily passive skill and one which could be taught by more or less anyone who could themselves read, many children in the eighteenth and nineteenth century could read by the age of seven or eight. Writing, however, was seen as a vocational and primarily male skill usually taught by male tutors who also taught arithmetic and often other basic business or trade skills: throughout the 18th and much of the 19th centuries, very few children had learned to write by the age of seven or eight. Beyond that age access to education fell sharply for children of working parents as this was the age widely seen as the point at which a child's labour may be considered valuable enough to utilise. In 19th Century England, approximately 33% more children were able to read than to write.”
The gender bias here is interesting, and backs up roughly the figures from the parish registers. Boys were more likely to have been taught to write as a vocational skill. When it comes to couples where the man signs but the woman doesn’t, of which there are certainly examples in my tree, perhaps the women were not wholly uneducated, but simply could not write? I can’t think of an example in my own tree where the man can’t sign but the woman does. I’d be intrigued to see if anyone has?
The other thing that strikes me is the connection between literacy and work. Contrary to our modern society, where literacy is almost imperative to work, in the nineteenth century children were sent to work from a young age, at which point their meagre education, perhaps by one of their parents, seems to have stopped. Only those who were expected to go onto bigger and better things were taught to write, which effectively makes literacy a class barrier. Hardly surprising then that some middle- and upper-class people were against education for the poor, fearing that it would lead them to revolution!
The other side of the argument was usually from protestant groups, who felt that educating the masses gave them direct access to religious writings and therefore would increase morality, reducing crime and other social problems. And it would seem that most parents wanted to give their children some sort of education, but had to put the economic needs of the entire family first.
By the mid-nineteenth century the state was becoming more active on education, and others like immigration and health – it’s at this point that the state as we know it is born, I suppose, and ‘education education education’ quickly becomes a central tenet of its responsibilities. Between 1870 and 1880 legislation was passed that all children aged between five and ten must attend school. This date obviously ties in with the rise in literacy rates recorded from the parish registers , though obviously the children who began their compulsory education in the 1880s wouldn’t have married until around 1900 at the earliest (implying that in fact literacy began to improve of its own accord at an earlier point – perhaps public feeling led the policy rather than vice versa?) Presumably then it wasn’t until the early to mid-twentieth century that illiteracy declined to the 1% rate of today.
By chance my blog feed also brought up this post today, on the same subject, showing how reforms in education began at a local level at a much earlier date. I found this particularly interesting as my boyfriend actually went to Farmor’s School.
I can only say thank god I was born in this day and age really. I love reading, and can’t imagine not being educated, not being able to write this blog!
L x

Tuesday, 10 April 2012

On the Luddites

This week it is the 200th anniversary of one of the most destructive Luddite attacks in the history of the movement – and it took place in the village I grew up in.
The Luddite movement was primarily among textile workers, in revolt against the introduction of machinery that essentially replaced them, because it was able to do the same work more quickly and cheaply and required minimal manpower. The semi-organised movement was characterised by threatening behaviour, machine-wrecking and general disorder. It is generally considered to have begun in 1811 in Nottinghamshire, and by early 1812 had spread to West Yorkshire. The movement took its name from Ned Ludd, the ‘anonymous’ and semi-mythical leader of the movement.
Following a direct threat to Mr Joseph Foster, on the night of 9 April 1812, Foster’s Mill at Horbury Bridge came under attack from between 300 and 600 men. They had come from all over the surrounding area and were well organised. They were either masked or their faces were blackened, to protect their identities, and they carried weapons. They also surrounded the Fosters’ house. They forced the sons of the mill owner (who was not at home) to let them into the mill, and proceeded to wreck the place. They particularly focused on the shearing frames, but also on other modern machinery, as well as more traditional tools and even the cloth itself. They then set fire to the warehouse, and left two of the Foster boys tied up. The men got away over Grange Moor towards Huddersfield, or through Horbury itself and along Wakefield Road . On 14 April soldiers were sent to guard the other mills in and around Horbury,
Similar riots continued in the area throughout April. One attack left two of the Luddites fatally injured, following which the events became much more violent, and one mill owner was murdered. The Luddite movement continued, spreading into Lancashire. It finally came to an end in early 1813, following a mass trial at York Castle, which resulted in the execution of seventeen men, and the transportation of several others.  The machinery against which they had protested was here to stay, and the number of skilled croppers in the area decreased dramatically.
I have to say, I don’t know of a direct connection to my ancestors. However, what I do know is that they were definitely living in Horbury at the time, and so they would have been first-hand witnesses to the events, whether they were supporters of the Luddite cause or simply living in fear of the unruly mob that was roaming their streets. John Phillipson was born in Horbury just three years after the Luddite attacks and went on to be a woollen spinner. His father, also John, was a weaver, though whether he was originally from Horbury I don’t know. On the other hand James Wade, who was a stonemason and so not directly involved in events, and his wife Mary, were almost definitely living here at the time of the attack.
There is some debate about the Luddite movement. Is it a simple industrial dispute, albeit a very violent one, among a contained group of workers? Or, does it represent something more – an organised revolt against capitalism? An alternative political movement? These arguments are something that I am still considering, but I hope to write a blog post on them later in the week – partly as an exercise in constructing an historical essay, something which I haven’t really done since I left university nearly four years ago!
I remember learning about the Luddites at school. To be honest, at the time this sort of industrial history didn’t really grab me. I don’t remember ever being told that my own village was such an important part of that history, if we were told, I don’t believe that the teacher really took advantage of the fact in order to teach the history. Had she done so I think we might have been much more engaged by what we were learning.
I have been following the Luddite movement here. This blog posts relevant documents and some narrative of its own date-by-date, to show the progression of the Luddite movement as it happened 200 years ago – a brilliant idea that brings the history to life!
L x