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About drsang

Laura Sangha is Associate Professor in Early Modern History at the University of Exeter. You can follow her on Bluesky @lsangha.bsky.social.

A plea for critical thinking humans in our world of extremes

Laura Sangha

A companion piece to: What is history for? Or: Doing history/thinking historically

The train to Totnes this weekend was full of late holiday makers heading for Cornwall. They were gratifyingly impressed by one of the greatest rail journeys in England – the swoop down the Exe estuary coast where, if you are seated on the correct side of the train, there is nothing between you and the rippling water, scattered with gulls, oyster catchers, cormorants and mudlarks.

A photo taken from the bridge over the railway tracks at Starcross train station in Devon. The platform is to the left, immediately next to it is an expanse of exposed mud, with the Exe following beyond it. It's a grey day, boats can be seen on the river.
The view from Starcross train station on the Exe Estuary.

I was rather sadder to overhear the conversation as it turned to the climate crisis. Observing the rolling Devon hills, the shallow rooted grass now returned to a lush green after a couple of weeks of regular rain showers, one traveller compared it to their London experience. ‘I suppose it wasn’t as hot down here this summer’. The other, from Kent, agreed, adding ‘I expect it will be just like 1976. After that was all over things just returned to normal again very quickly’. The companion agreed wholeheartedly and conversation then moved on to the drought resistant planting that both travellers were beginning in their parched dust bowl gardens.

At first I was taken aback to again hear repeated the line about 1976. Although it was an idea that bounced around a lot during the first and second heatwaves, I felt that the persistent, life threatening heat that followed had rather snuffed it out. No doubt my own personal media bubble was to blame. But it soon got me thinking more generally about public or popular discourse, where ideas like ‘1976’ come from, and why they persist. Why can’t people see that this take on the exceptional, extra-ordinary weather we endured in England this summer is spectacularly wrong?

Of course, there are too many reasons to examine them all here, so I wish to focus on just one: a lack of critical thinking, and a particular subset of that, a failure to consider evidence. People are spectacularly wrong because they don’t have tools which allow them to weigh up an interpretation or an argument, to examine the evidence it is based on, to see it in a broader context, or to consider other interpretations and to compare and contrast them to conclude which is most persuasive.

Yes, that’s right (surprise!) I want to talk about the methods of historical study.

My job as a historian requires that I am an expert critical thinker. It is also my chief responsibility to my students to teach them how to become critical thinkers. Because I have been steeped in this way of interacting with the world since embarking on my undergraduate degree (mumble) decades ago, it’s too easy to forget that for many people it is just not something that they have been schooled in. Or if they were, it was too long ago to remember, or they weren’t listening, or they were absent that day. Or they went on to study a subject that didn’t value or prioritise it.

But in an increasingly unstable global context, a lack of critical thinking allows misinformation and lies to proliferate, even in the face of overwhelming evidence that something is a lie, that it is untrue, that it is not right. It is not right that 2026 was just the same thing as 1976, and critical thinking can prove it.

Two graphs which show the mean UK summer temperatures in 1976 and 2026. The mean temperatures were persistently higher in 2026. The graphs are from Met Office
Graphs from the Met Office article.

First, to the evidence itself. Anyone can google ‘1976 compared with 2026’ and find links to a range of articles comparing the weather conditions of the two. But you need to apply some critical thinking about the context of these articles to work out which of them is likely to contain evidence you can trust.  

All this means is asking some fundamental questions. Who wrote this? What are they saying? Why did they write it – what point are they trying to make? Who are they writing for, what’s their audience, what are they trying to persuade them of and why? What is their evidence for what they have written? Where did it come from? What are the problems and gaps in it? Who has a vested interest in what they are saying?

Might this person have a reason to exaggerate, to leave out some facts, or to tell a particular story? Is it likely that this person is misrepresenting the evidence to further their own ends?

Let’s apply these critical questions to our google list of articles about 1976.

Should I trust the Reddit thread ‘2026 is the new ’76. I will not be taking questions’? Well no – I don’t know who wrote this. I know that the social news website Reddit is full of amateur and expert opinion but how can I tell the difference from the info provided there? Just because millions of people voted a thread up, it doesn’t make it right.

How about this Reuters article then. A trusted news source, so that gives me more confidence. But the article is from July, so it can’t give me a full picture of the conditions across the summer.

What about a Mirror article from mid-August then? Again, it’s not what I am looking for. Tabloid and broadsheet content is always likely to provide an interpretation that will resonate with its presumed audience or advertisers, it follows an editorial line, and it will likely lack the detailed scientific evidence I am looking for.

Ah ha, further down the results page is a Met Office article from 4 September. That’s the ticket – the Met are a professional, trusted institution with their own archive of data. Click.

And there is the evidence, all the statistics from both years, neatly summed up in the first paragraph: ‘summer 2026 has rewritten the record books, becoming the UK’s warmest summer on record for mean, maximum and minimum temperatures, while also recording more tropical nights than 1976.’

A table showing various statistics relating to the weather in 1976 and 2026. Generally the temperature stats are slightly higher for 2026. It is also notable that 1976 had 22 days above 30 degrees, 2026 had 33 days above 30 degrees.
A table from the Met Office article

Since 1976 is just my case study I won’t go into lots of detail, but a critical thinker would immediately be able to identify the key points supporting the Met article argument ‘Summer 2026 has not only rivalled 1976 but exceeded it in several ways.’ The section that my fellow train travellers need to read is ‘Similar impacts, different climate’.

Just a little more digging might bring our reader to the open access online evidence of scientists who monitor climatic conditions, such as the Climate Lab Book on Substack. Importantly the site includes information about the author and his credentials, giving us confidence in his knowledge: it is by Ed Hawkins, a climate scientist at the University of Reading, an MBE recipient who invented the ‘climate stripes’. There you can see some quite terrifying graphic evidence of the differences:

Two graphics from the Climate Lab article showing an outline map focused on the UK and France. They are coloured to represent the temperature difference from average in the summers of 1976 and 2026. There is a lot more blue on the 1976 map (cooler) and a lot more dark red on the 2026 map (hot).
Graphics from Ed Hawkins’ Climate Lab Book.

(of course the critical thinker in me also notes that using a different colour scheme would make this graphic look very different …)

Returning to our train travellers, had they dug a little deeper they would now be able to test their hypothesis against the evidence:

‘I suppose it wasn’t as hot down here this summer’ – actually the evidence shows it was very hot throughout all of the south and midlands, not just in the south east. And since the threshold for a heatwave in the southwest is 25 degrees, it too experienced heatwave conditions throughout all the summer months.

‘I expect it will be just like 1976. After that was all over things just returned to normal again very quickly’ – actually the evidence shows that ‘while extremes have happened in the past, our warmer climate is making them even more extreme’. ‘The summer of 1976 remains one of the UK’s most iconic heatwaves, but it also provides a benchmark for understanding how extreme heat may evolve in a warming climate.’

Screenshot from the Met article. Text reads 'The season's mean temperature was made around 130 times more likely due to human-induced climate change'.

Critical thinking has revealed that anecdotal evidence (this is just like what I experienced in 1976) is weak because it may not be representative, and it won’t reveal the full picture. It can also show the illogical reasoning at the heart things. This is just an extraordinary year like in 1976 / in future I need to plant in anticipation of drought conditions becoming the norm – these are contradictory positions. The thinker’s ideas and interpretation is at odds with their behaviour, logic show that their ideas are out of step with the reality experienced around them.

This case study is an example of why the rigorous, original, critical thinking fostered by the humanities must go hand in hand with the methods of scientists and engineers. For there are many many reasons for rich and powerful people to misrepresent evidence of all kinds. The world as it is now has made them rich and powerful, so naturally they want to keep it that way. Scientific data might shows us the dangers of failing to change our world, but that data is useless unless people see it, are convinced by it, and want to act in light of it. Arts, humanities and social sciences can ensure that people have the critical ability to see it, perceive it, and be persuaded by it.

Tl;dr: Save Arts and Humanities

A new life for ‘British Printed Images to 1700’

Laura Sangha

This post introduces our new mini-series Visual Culture in early modern England. Guest posts in the mini-series will be published over the course of the next month – we will add links to this page as the post are published. The series celebrates the re-launch of the vital online primary source collection ‘British Printed Images to 1700’. It hopes to encourage use of the BPI archive and to promote conversation about the deployment of visual sources in the study of the past more broadly.

Adam Morton, Printed Images, Laughter and Early Modern History

Helen Pierce, Building Your Own Book: Printed Images, Producers and Buyers in early modern London

Malcolm Jones, Cut, copy, paste: What People Did with Early Modern Images

Adam Morton, Teaching with Early Modern Sources

Something to remember, or more likely forget

In the distant past, time out of memory of man, when I was writing an essay as part of my Postgraduate Certificate in Academic Practice (teaching training), I spent a week reading lots of articles about teaching and learning History. I remember very little about that immersion in the scholarship, but strangely the one article that stuck around in my mind was a study examining what students remembered about a lecture after they had heard it. The article described an experiment where students were asked to complete a questionnaire about the content of a lecture immediately after they walked out of it, and then they were asked to complete the same questionnaire again, after two weeks had passed.

The exact details of the results escape me, but the headlines were relatively pessimistic – students remembered little content, however basic, immediately after a lecture, and this diminished to almost nothing two weeks later. The one exception was that many of them could remember some of the images they had seen in the lecture, and in some cases, why they were shown – i.e. the idea that the lecturer was communicating by showing the image. Ergo: image memory is often superior to word memory.

Theories of cognition come to similar conclusions. According to Allan Paivio’s Dual Code Theory, images elicit words (verbal labels) so that they are stored in the memory twice. By contrast words do not automatically elicit images, a relatively impoverished memory representation that may make the retrieval of words less probable. Though more recent scholarship has nuanced these findings and would allow more scope for varying results according to different learning styles, on average many people retain more from images than they do from texts.

Continue reading →

Creativity and history: tales from the blarchive

Laura Sangha

This summer we are marking the ten-year anniversary of the many-headed monster blog with a collection of posts that highlight older material in our blog archive (or our ‘blarchive’, as Mark has christened it, to the great and growing pain of the other monster heads).

In my piece I want to pull at a thread that has run through our output over the years, that is, posts that sit on the fence between history and fiction.

Are you a fan of analogies, however laboured? Read on!

Of course, there isn’t really a fence betweenthese two spaces. Or at least, if there is, it was only erected recently, and in fact it’s pretty shoddy work, full of gaps and holes, plus one part of it blew down in a winter storm a few years back, while another is so deeply lost in the undergrowth it’s no longer effective, or even particularly visible. But anyway, let’s not get lost in the encroaching greenery trying to pinpoint the boundary, but rather, let’s consider the fruitful relationship between history and fiction by revisiting some of our related content.

Continue reading →

Paper Trails CfP: ‘Hidden Voices’

Laura Sangha

You may know that last year saw the triumphant release of the first cluster of publications for Paper Trails: The Social Life of Archives and Collections. Paper Trails is a BOOC (Book as Open Online Content) published by UCL Press: a fully open access platform that allows for multi-form contributions across time. The BOOC offers space for contributions both from practitioners who study the past, as well as those who make the study of the past possible. So if you are an educator, librarian, historian, curator, collections manager, archivist or just someone interested in critical histories as well as reflections on practice, sources and materials – read on!

Paper Trails image

I am privileged to sit on the editorial board of the BOOC and in our most recent meeting we had a noteworthy discussion about how to describe the innovative format to others. One of the things we worried at was the extent to which we wanted people to think of Paper Trails as being a bit like an online journal – so for instance, when we add our second, new cluster of publications, we could call this a new ‘volume’ or a new ‘issue’ of the BOOC, and allocate numbers to different articles accordingly. By making an association with such a well-established format we could familiarise the BOOC concept, and I suppose the comparison could in some way lend it more academic ‘legitimacy’. Continue reading →

Decolonising and Black British History: a teaching resource

Laura Sangha

If you are thinking about decolonising your history module this year, this seminar plan [pdf] might be of use to you. It’s based around ‘Black Lives in Early Modern England’, but with minor tweaking of the reading and primary sources it could be adapted for most modules, whether pre-modern or modern.

John Blanke (detail from 1511 Westminster Tournament Roll).

The seminar aims to introduce students to some key concepts whilst also encouraging them to think about methodology and historiography. It combines synchronous and asynchronous activities, and is equivalent to four hours of synchronous seminar time (it’s designed for my Special Subject which in non-pandemic years is taught by means of 2 x 2 hour seminars a week).

In this post, I want to share some of my recent experiences which provide some context to where the seminar emerged from.

Continue reading →

‘You’re on mute!’ How can we make online meetings better?

Laura Sangha

I’ll keep this brief, I know you probably have a [Teams, Zoom, Skype, other] meeting to be at. Probably more than one. Is it about deferrals? Transition to online teaching? A viva? Personal tutoring? Decolonising group? Accreditation? Supervision? Wellbeing? Exam board? Deep dive lightning talk extraordinary forum workshop reading group paper sand pit?

Before this year I had attended online meetings for work on only a couple of occasions, but now it’s a rare day that doesn’t contain a couple of online meetings. Everyone I talk to in these meetings tells me they are spending too much time in online meetings. I am beginning to feel like each minute I spend staring at a pixelated reproduction of the shape of my colleagues is equal to a minute I will spend lying awake in bed, unable to switch off my fevered screened-out brain and escape into unaware oblivion (or at the very least a bizarre lockdown dream).

Evidently online meetings are inescapable, and they are likely to be for quite some time yet. But before resigning ourselves to our fate, a bit of reflection might be useful. Continue reading →

A Wandering Story of the Wandering Jew

Laura Sangha

Part I

 

Wandering_jew

Gustave Dore, The Legend of the Wandering Jew: A Series of 12 Designs, c. 1857, V&A Collections.

Story 1

A month or so ago I read Sarah Perry’s wonderful third novel Melmoth. Central to the book is the myth of Melmotka, a woman who witnessed Jesus’ resurrection, but who later denied that she had seen him. Since that time Melmotka has wandered the earth without home or respite, bearing witness to all humanity’s violence and cruelty, as she will do until Christ comes again.

The Stories of Story 1

In modern day Prague Helen Franklin traces the history of Melmotka through a collection of texts that speak of a wraith-like figure who appears at moments of great sorrow. The narratives found in these documents – a seventeenth-century letter, a contemporary manuscript, a twentieth-century journal – put flesh on the bones of Melmotka, a shadow that leaves bloody scarlet footprints where she treads, who is clad in some thin black billowy stuff, who stares with eyes that are like ink dropped into water… Continue reading →

Books as Open Online Content: Paper Trails

Laura Sangha

This year I joined the editorial board of a BOOC for UCL press titled Paper Trails, and if you are an academic, librarian, curator, collections manager, archivist, or educator, we want to work with you.

Paper Trails imageThat might need some explanation: a BOOC is a new, fully open access platform that allows for multi-form contributions across time. Living books for the digital age, if you will.

The innovative BOOC format comes with many benefits. It means that Paper Trails can offer space not only for peer-reviewed, ‘REF-able’ academic articles, but that these can be published alongside work by other practitioners who both study the past, and who make the study of the past possible. We thus hope that one of the things our BOOC will do will be to make visible and showcase the work of collection managers, curators, librarians, archivists and educators. The intellectual focus, multi-form content, and the four streams in our Call for Papers are designed with this in mind.

The Paper Trails BOOC therefore presents an excellent opportunity for interdisciplinary reflection on the ways that we construct the past, and on the collaborative nature of that project. In particular it will allow us to consider our relationship with research material more closely and coherently, by juxtaposing critical histories with reflections on practice, sources and materials.

img_3994

‘Engaging’ Lead Editor: Andrew WM Smith

Paper Trails is also intended as a means to capture and promote some of the excellent education and engagement work that many scholars are involved in, but which we often don’t get to hear about. We hope that the ‘Engagement’ stream will become a repository of shorter cases studies or think pieces that demonstrate particular skills or techniques, and which can therefore inform broader professional practice. Since creative and dynamic ways of engaging non-professionals with the past are now widespread, the BOOC can be the means to preserve and disseminate the best of this work. Continue reading →

Seventeenth-century England: A Symposium to celebrate Professor Bernard Capp’s 50 Years at Warwick

Laura Sangha

On Saturday 20 October I had the great pleasure of returning to my alma mater to attend ‘Seventeenth-Century England’, a symposium to mark and celebrate Professor Bernard Capp’s fifty years at the University of Warwick. All of the many-headed monster co-authors were fortunate enough to benefit from Bernard’s advice and knowledge when we were postgraduates at Warwick in the 2000s, so this review of the Symposium is our way of joining the chorus of congratulations and commendations that characterised the day.

Fifty years’ service.

Professor Capp was appointed as Lecturer in History in 1968, when Harold Wilson was Prime Minister, the Kray twins were arrested, the M1 was completed, and the Race Relations Act was passed. The University of Warwick had admitted its first undergraduates just four years earlier.

alex W

Alexandra Walsham exhorting us to undertake our own ‘generation work’

Whilst at Warwick Professor Capp became established as one of the leading historians of early modern England, his teaching and publications demonstrating an extraordinary breadth of research interests and expertise. The Symposium organisers, Peter Marshall and Naomi Pullin, did an excellent job of creating a programme that gave space to all the themes that underpin this work. Many papers explored gendered aspects of the seventeenth-century as well as the ‘religious marketplace’ of the age. Amanda Flather discussed the impact of Laudian ceremonialism on women worshippers, explaining how matters of conscience could be corrosive of female obedience. Tim Reinke-Williams regaled us with the masculine ‘banter’ of the early modern jestbook and laid bare the emotions that structured them. Ann Hughes’ paper on dissenting culture in Restoration England revealed the ways that religion connected single women to broad social networks and kinship. Hughes’ focus on the Gell family of Hopton Hall and the siblings in the family connected neatly to Alexandra Walsham’s paper on the ‘revolutionary generation’ of the 1640s and in particular the Fifth Monarchy Men, religious radicals bonded in solidarity by their conception of Christian history and the conviction that they were the ones to carry out a turbulent age’s vital ‘generation work’. Continue reading →

‘Here I lie as warm as they’: who was buried where in the early modern period?

Laura Sangha

kingsbridge

This spring I had the good fortune to visit Kingsbridge, a small market town in South Devon. The town sits on a steep hill overlooking the many-branched estuary, and it is home to The Shambles (or market arcade) with five Elizabethan granite piers, and a seventeenth-century grammar school (now an excellent little museum).

Of course I popped into the church – St Edmund King and Martyr on Fore Street was largely rebuilt in 1414, then restored and extended in 1849 and 1896. What caught my eye there was an inscription on a tablet just outside one of the doors of the church, which inspired a twitter thread which in turn has become the basis of this post.

DSC02051

What does this rather colourful epitaph mean, and what can it tell us about the early modern world? Continue reading →