The name “Ned Ludd” was quietly whispered from person to person throughout the central part of England beginning in the early 1800s. People would say, “We’re going to meet up with Ned Ludd tonight at the Dew Droppe Inn.” “Ned’s got things planned, and so on.” It was a coded message, and there was good reason for this secrecy. He was completely mythical; his followers were not. Known as the Luddites, they rose up against the giant textile mills and other mechanized factories who were destroying the livelihoods of spinners and weavers of wool.
For hundreds of years the men and women of this region had raised and tended their sheep, and then converted the raw wool into cloth. The profits from their labor had made it possible for them to move socially and financially upward from being medieval serfs to the lower middle class. But just as importantly, it gave them a sense of personal pride and the hope for a better life for their children.
But then came the steam engines that turned the giant spinning wheels and looms. To be sure, it made for greater productivity, but it soon threw hundreds and thousands of people out of work. Now, a handful of employees did all the work. Even worse, the owners and oligarchs made it impossible for the workers to unionize and petition for safer and better working conditions, or a living wage.
To cut to the chase, the Luddites began attacking the mills, destroying the steam engines and the automated equipment that turned out cloth. When that did not improve matters, the Luddites sacked the homes of the mill owners. The wave of violence began in Lancaster, spread to Yorkshire, and into Scotland. Parliament responded with the “Machine Breaking Act” which made damaging machinery a capital offense.
On the whole, economic conditions worsened and stayed that way for decades. A handful of upper middle-class people sided with the Luddites, and it was John Ruskin books and lectures which made some difference. Instead of buying machine made cloth or furniture, he urged people to buy handmade products.
The sharp division between machine and handmade goods has continued, and it has touched the American and world economy, as well. Every business contends with it. That includes the Wilcox newspapers. When newspapers first came to Allegan County, the type was set by hand. It was a true skill and art to select the letters, numbers, and dies, then place them into chase – backwards. Then, new machines, linotype, were invented to do the job. Printing presses were improved. Half a century ago editors began using “self-justifying typewriters” to prepare the columns which were then cut and pasted onto the grid. Today, most of this work is done with computers.
It is all far more efficient but gone are those skilled men and women who set the type, inked the plates, and worked the human powered press to make the newspaper. But with it, the human element is gone. Now, thanks to the internet, so is the human connection because reporters, layout employees, and the editor/owner can all work remotely. Even the way we receive the news has changed. When was the last time you saw a paperboy or girl trudging from house to house, a huge and heavy bag over their shoulders, to deliver the news? Many earned their first paycheck from that work, and more importantly, learned life lessons and work skills. That is gone today.
This month I saw some advertisements online for various Artificial Intelligence apps for amateur authors who want to become professionals. The truly spooky one showed a clean-cut fellow, broadly smiling as he said that the previous night he wrote a 300-page book from start to finish. I thought it was a sales pitch until I talked with a man this week who ‘wrote’ 20+ books last year. He admitted that AI was involved.
Those of us who are of a certain age might remember when teachers firmly instructed their students not to rely heavily on Wikipedia and avoid plagiarism at all costs. I think instructors just told them what to do – rely on Wikipedia instead of original sources and go ahead and copy everything.
Soon after came the new computer programs to expose the cheaters. I had an idea a student was using Wiki, ran the paper through the program, and whole paragraphs had been lifted to his paper. When I asked the student about it, and said I needed an explanation, he got defensive. I pressed a bit harder, and in a burst of anger roared, “I didn’t cheat! My sister did write my paper for me!. If anyone cheated, it was her!”
But a three-hundred-page book, written in one night, letter perfect, all grammar and punctuation in order? Seriously? The ‘author’ didn’t write much. He had some ideas, he know how to use this AI app, added a bit of creativity, but I seriously doubt he could type three hundred pages in one night.
Even if the three-hundred-page book was written in a single night, we probably have some serious questions about its quality.
For that reason we return to the English philosopher and writer, John Ruskin, who lived during the Industrial Revolution and railed against it. Instead of machine-made furniture or clothing, he suggested we would be happier if we could return to the age of the guilds. A young man apprenticed in one of the guilds, and in time and with sufficient aptitude became a journeyman who could travel anywhere in Europe and work. From there, he might have sufficient skill to become a master of his craft and open his own shop.
Instead of buying a chair that was piece work made with power tools, assembled in an assembly line by workers who knew how to do one task, we should seek out something that was made by one craftsman from start to finish. Instead of buying a woolen suit at a low price but turned out on a mechanical loom, we should buy the material and have a skilled tailor custom make (bespoke, as it is called in the rag tray. And to a group of industrialists in Manchester, he told them to stop buying ‘old masters’ from art dealers and buy new art from unknown artists.
I think he is right. If we don’t seek out quality and handmade items, including books, than we will regress. The real challenge is the financial cost.
