In an 1871 letter to musicologist Francesco Florimo, the great Italian composer Giuseppe Verdi wrote “Tornate all’antico e sarà un progresso” – let us turn to the past and that will be progress.
An inveterate grump at the best of times (his wife dubbed him “the bear of Busetto” because of his temper), Verdi was now 58, and had not mellowed with age. His great works Il Trovatore and La Traviata were two decades past, Richard Wagner had supplanted him as the doyen of opera, and he despaired that Italy was abandoning its close relationship with France for one with Germany.
As a historian, I tend to be sceptical of an idealised past when things were supposedly better. By 1871, Verdi was a wealthy landowner. A long-standing advocate of the Risorgimento and opponent of Papal power, his hope for a unified Italian kingdom with Rome as its capital had just been realised. Aida was about to premiere and inaugurate a late-career renaissance. It’s unlikely that he would have considered his modest upbringing in the Duchy of Parma a step forward.
This seeming paradox exemplifies a key 19th-century debate. A raft of discoveries from the steam locomotive and telegraph to pasteurisation and evolutionary biology revolutionised everyday life and how humans understood the universe. Social theorists such as Auguste Comte argued that a scientific approach to structuring society would lead to greater progress.
Comte’s philosophy of positivism was widely influential. Although his proposed religion of humanity was unsuccessful, its principles can be seen in contemporary humanism and political philosophy. The Brazilian flag, for instance, displays the country’s national motto, “Ordem e Progresso”, a tribute to positivism by the revolutionary leaders who overthrew the Brazilian Empire.
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Comte influenced social theorists from Herbert Spencer to Karl Marx, who built their systems on the idea of science guiding progress. In the early 19th century, reactions to technological change had been mixed. The Luddite movement saw skilled English weavers destroying machines that threatened to replace their labour, while William Blake’s “dark satanic mills” captured the Romantic aversion to the dehumanising effects of technology. Blake’s vision of a new Jerusalem in England’s “green and pleasant land” also highlighted the tendency to view ancient societies such as Israel, Egypt, Rome and Greece as ideals from which to learn.
Confidence in science ballooned across the century. Its potential to improve life seemed immense, from industry to communication to healthcare. Thinkers turned to the future and its possibilities for inspiration. Some of these possibilities, such as a society in which eugenic principles guided reproduction, are unpalatable today but were common among the turn-of-the-century intelligentsia, including George Bernard Shaw and HG Wells. But even when ideas like eugenics became untenable, faith in technology improving the future remained.
Technology became central to everyday lives and the manufacturing share of global GDP overtook agriculture by the 1920s (although in Ireland not until 1969). Alongside the obvious benefits of technology came new approaches to resources. Manufacturers designed their products to become obsolete after a certain number of uses to ensure repeat custom, rather than make them as durable as possible to derive the longest benefit from the materials invested in their production.
Plastics were cheap and seen as scientific and therefore good, even if not as durable as some other materials. Plastic bags had an obvious advantage over paper bags when carrying groceries in the rain, but because they were designed to be used once and disposed of, this durability became a drawback when they ended up in landfill.
The same is true of much packaging, from drink bottles to yoghurt cartons. Even though many plastics can now be recycled, many more cannot, and the process is expensive and inefficient, and relies on an increasingly scarce and polluting raw material. With a Minister of State for the Circular Economy, a deposit return scheme and a single-use plastic ban, Ireland is making progress on undoing the reliance on disposable plastics.
[ Use of disposable cups and cutlery to be phased out in public sectorOpens in new window ]
The linear model of take-make-waste was only possible because of finite resources and is therefore unsustainable. Technology might not be able to solve resource scarcity, but it can provide alternatives that are sustainable, reusable, and circular. We can learn from how past societies used and reused valuable materials and how they viewed the future without needing to return to their social conditions. But what would Verdi think of a progress that was circular rather than linear?
Stuart Mathieson is a postdoctoral fellow in the School of History and Geography at Dublin City University
