“The invention of print … made it easier to manipulate public opinion.”

Mass publication is, it would seem, a double-edged sword. While it gives a venue for the sharing of knowledge and belief, it also becomes a controlling device for the “Powers That Be”, if you will. Used in the proper fashion, and left to the control of the masses, it is a powerful method of spreading different thoughts and opinions; however, as Orwell has shown us, when controlled by the government it can be instead a method of limiting knowledge. By becoming reliant on print, we have put ourselves at risk. In a world like that of 1984, in which media is controlled by—is, in fact—the government, the world becomes reliant on what truth the government is willing to give, and nothing else.

Were we a culture, a society, that relied on oral history, we would be no less susceptible to being misled, though perhaps our people would be less likely to fall to corruption. In such a society, we would rely on the memory and the honesty of man. While neither of these are qualities for which man is well-known, oral history is nonetheless something of a safeguard; in an oral society, man is well-taught in each generation, and often several generations are taught by the same individual. Native Americans, for example, have a member of their tribe who passes down all knowledge, teaching the masses as well as teaching a successor; in this way, each individual is taught the same as the next, and information when compared is as a whole consistent. Through oral history, it becomes more difficult to adjust or wipe clean the memory of a society.

This does not hold true with print, however. There are huge gaps between the schooling of generations; if a child is taught that history happened in a specific way, and is backed up by their textbook, the parent will merely agree, and assume that they recall incorrectly. No longer are we taught en masse; instead, we are shown historical “truths” almost as individuals, which isolates our knowledge and puts us at a greater risk of being misled. With so little stress being put on history, our children are being raised with limited understanding, and therefore history may be changed at will.

Let me explain. To change history is a process, but not by any means an impossible one. Only small things could be changed at first, but with each generation that grows to seniority, details may be adjusted, and with patience our history could be changed completely with no realization made by the public. History is seen as something to be memorized on short term and then forgotten again; most students consider history to be largely comprised of “useless facts about dead people”.

“He who forgets the past is condemned to repeat it.” We have become a dumb society, one which relies on what it is told by authority to produce opinions of the past. The “dead languages” are just that—dead! The few who learn them are not honored for it—are, in fact, mocked by their peers for wasting their time. Because of this general ignorance, if we are told by a scholar that an ancient Greek tablet says a certain thing, we have no choice but to believe them; only a fellow colleague could argue. We as the public are spoon-fed, and are mental infants incapable of doing it for themselves. It would be folly to attempt to create a society in which every citizen was a scholar—humans specialize in certain fields for a reason; we are mentally incapable of knowing everything about everything—but the problem is that people do not even think to question!

Society accepts what it is told about the “distant” past, and if a discovery is made to prove some fact false, society praises itself and its archaeologists for the “modern thinking” that led to the discovery of the “real truth”. In such an instance, society leaps at the chance to correct all its historical texts, and to mark those that say otherwise as obsolete. The old generations are re-taught, the new generations are correctly instructed, and society goes on believing that it is smarter for having discovered how stupid it was in the past.

However, who among the everyday civilians asks themselves, “Is this not a dangerous habit?” Surely it is a method of improvement, but it is one that could be quickly and easily turned against us; it could become, through little effort, a method of changing history, making it to say that which the Powers That Be wished it to say—which is exactly what Orwell’s Ingsoc does, though they do so on a more drastic level than a government could get away with at present. It is, however, not as hard as one might think to bring society to the point at which the government could do exactly as Ingsoc did. Many people like to think of 1984 as an exaggeration, a novel that exceeds all possibility in order to prove a point. The truth of the matter is, it is not at all impossible, or even all that improbable, that some of Ingsoc’s methods are already in, or could easily be put into, employ.

To change history, little more needs to be done than to invent an archaeologist, and then announce that he and his team have made a brilliant discovery. “A bright young student, fresh out of university,” they would say. “Practically unheard of in the world of archaeology—“ –how convenient! The “old fogies” in the universities would be shunned if they argued against the discovery, mocked for their refusal to move forwards, for their lack of “progressive thinking”. Perhaps an aged specialist in the field spoke out against it; well, society would explain, he speaks out against it because he is jealous that such a young student made this discovery, and he did not! It is only resentment, society would rationalize, that causes the elder to denounce the discovery. And in the meantime, that society would accept the announcement that the pyramids had been engineered by the Nubians, and not the Egyptians—after all, a professional in the field studied this and found it to be true; what right has the average individual to argue against a professional? It would be like telling your doctor he was mistaken in diagnosing you with a broken bone, would it not?

And now, look ahead, into the future—not far; you need only go twenty or thirty years, to see the end results. Only the new, “re-taught” students would be controlling the prestigious world of history now; everyone would know that the Nubians had built the pyramids—how stupid past societies had been, for presuming that it had been the Egyptians. Ah, and how lucky the future would be—how enlightened, how knowledgeable! And what price would be paid for having created this “knowledge”? Why, little more than a “creative” individual, one such as Winston, seated at a desk, with orders to write an article about a fake archaeologist with a fake name. He would insert a fake photograph of a fake dig site to supplement the article, perhaps of a man in a ball cap, tank top, and shorts, standing on the lip of the dig. Hollywood creates archaeologists and their dig sites all the time; little more is required than a few props and some actors, and anyone can act long enough to pose for a photograph.

The public, as a whole, takes almost no interest in the historical, whether that be history itself or those who study it. There is, in fact, not even a great amount of communication between history departments in universities. As Winston tells us in 1984, history happened as the world remembers it to have happened. Thus, if the world “knows” that the Nubians built the pyramids, and not the Egyptians, then by all intents and purposes, they did. After twenty years of history textbooks saying such, the only men to say otherwise—that it was, in fact, the Egyptians—will be considered the ignorant or the insane.

As with Winston and his photograph (of the three men who confessed to crimes which the photograph proved impossible), even to attempt to reconcile mistakes in man’s recall would be impossible. The majority is the sane, regardless of what they believe—even the democratic government is based on such. And print creates the knowledge and opinion of the majority; print invents that which is considered true.

Right now, most of our print is still free. Novels like 1984 can still be purchased and read, and we can therefore still be made aware of that which could happen should we cease to be aware. However, our youth is becoming more and more prone to disregard these texts; declarations of “This is boring!” are common with novels such as Orwell’s—far more common than is right. This, as much as a reliance on print, is dangerous. If youth does not respect its society’s elders, and does not see any gain in reading such literature as 1984, then they are producing a generation that is ideal for a government such as Ingsoc. What more could a Totalitarian-government-masquerading-as-a-democracy ask for? My generation is, frighteningly, becoming the perfect one for mental and intellectual corruption.

And if this generation can learn nothing from history, neither has it yet proven capable of learning from former generations. When the old speak, the young roll their eyes and tune them out; rare is the youth who views his elders’ stories as valuable. If a child is taught that the World Wars happened differently than they did, who will have the opportunity to speak out against that teaching, except the elderly? And even now, because of our society’s distaste for and ostracizing of its elderly, there are few who can still be heard by the ears of the young. Most of our veterans of the World Wars have, by now, succumbed to age (and thus death—ah, the curse of the mortals!) or to Alzheimer’s; those who have not are considered senile by younger generations. If this view is taken of all who reach their “golden years”—if we lose all respect of the elders who long ago were honored for the age they had reached—then how will we hold on to and remember our history? Will we rely on print, which already has been proven to be so easily altered? Or will we forget entirely, and live only in the present?

The imminence of my generation has been brewing for nearly twenty years: the distaste for the intelligent, the ostracizing of anyone who thinks apart from the group; it is Ingsoc’s proverbial “wet dream”. By abandoning all respect for the elders of our society, for literature, for thought, and for the intellectual—for all sources of information aside from MTV and G105—we are inviting a government to take the opportunity to control what we think, believe, and even what we “know”.

The example of the pyramids and the argument of the Egyptians vs. the Nubians is a basic one, one that is easy to work with because of its ancient history and the fact that it is, in truth, shrouded in mystery—even to the archaeological world. It is one that would, honestly, have little effect on society as a whole. The point of it, however, is that there is the chance of so much more than the engineers of the pyramids being changed—or even erased—because of our society’s habits. What about the line of kings in England? What of the Charles I, whose acts inspired the overthrow of the monarchy by Oliver Cromwell and the abolishment of the House of Lords?

What of the Emperors of France who so suppressed the people that they were first inspired to form a revolution? Without that first, ancient, decisive act, perhaps France would never have become the Child of Revolution that it has proven to be throughout its history. That “unbreakable” French spirit that has been formed would, in such an instance, never have been. History is what makes a country what it is; it is through being raised with and taught that history that one becomes what one is; while present influences such as the beliefs and personalities of one’s parents certainly makes an impact, it is the history of one’s culture that ultimately makes a person.

If one travels back through the generations and destroys the act which originally created the revolutionary spirit, then each generation, in that history, becomes instead more and more suppressed, and more and more tolerant of that suppression, until there is no revolutionary spirit left, or even a memory of one. “War is Peace” is installed, in a sense—suppression, or that which once was suppression, becomes freedom, and a new suppression evolves. With time, and tolerance, that as well becomes a freedom, and so evolves the cycle exhibited in 1984.

For instance: Let us make use of an example which we can relate back to Orwell’s novel. The government has gained control of production of goods; though companies still pretend to be individually owned and operated, they would have no funding without the government (in the society we are now imagining), and thus would fall to ruin without their government’s support. The product we will employ for the making of our example will be cigarettes. Presently, this society has available to it the same goods that our own has: this society has, at its disposal, we’ll say, twenty different companies producing cigarettes, and as much variety amongst the brands as do we—that is to say, in addition to having twenty companies from which to choose, they also have the different types: 100s, menthol, lights, menthol lights, ultralights, et cetera—not to mention the clove cigarettes, and the flavored cigarettes put out by some companies.

The government’s first step in the “suppression becomes freedom” cycle will be to cut the number of variations, leaving behind only regular and menthol cigarettes. Next, the number of companies producing is decreased; for our purposes, we will cut the number in half—this will be explained away by some economic crisis which requires the government to cut its funding for some cigarette companies. At first, people will be upset—after all, the government has to a certain degree taken away their freedom of choice. In our society, and thus in this figurative one, no government could at the present get away with the blatant lies that Orwell’s Party feeds to the people (such as claiming to have instead increased the number of cigarette companies).

However, they can do the next best thing.

First, they will give it some time, and allow the people to grow accustomed to ten cigarette companies. Then, in a show of benevolence, five of the old companies will receive new funding and will reopen; in addition to the regulars and menthols, light cigarettes will now be available. Naturally, such an act will cause the government to receive praise from the people and the media, because after all, they have just improved the state of living.

(I would like to note at this time that something similar is being done with gas prices—the government is “forced” to raise them up past the $3.00-mark, and after a month or two of that, we were all praising our respective divine beings when the price slowly began to go down; as memory faded of the days when gas was 95 cents a gallon, we became thankful of a $2.19 price.)

Unfortunately, due to a second time of “economic crisis”, the government will, several years later, be forced to shut down ten of the cigarette companies, and to stop production of lights and menthols. “Outrage!” the crowds will roar. “There’s nothing we can do,” the government will reply, as they hold their hands out to each side in a gesture of helplessness. “But we promise that better times are ahead!” And so, clinging to that feeble hope, the people will buy from five cigarette companies, and they will eventually get used to it.

One day, a company appears—a company owned and operated by the government, not just funded by them. “Victory Cigarettes,” they will announce, “will now be selling to you as well—and, great news! We are producing not only regular cigarettes, but also lights and menthols!” The crowds will cheer, because they have survived only on regulars—and the fact that a new company has appeared will instill hope in them! A new company is much more promising than the reopening of old companies, after all—especially since the world saw how badly that went last time!

Due to increased sales for Victory Cigarettes, three other companies will be “forced to shut down”. The people who once purchased from those companies will think, “That’s odd—I know so many people who smoke those!” But statistics shown on the government-funded news, and in the government-produced newspapers, will show that those brands were selling only in (unspecified) isolated areas, and that is why they went out of business. The frightening thing is, however, that this was an unnecessary move by the government. Without their help, society would have reached that very same conclusion; they would have felt free to assume that it was only them, or only their acquaintances, who smoked those cigarettes; they would have assumed that there was only a scattering of customers, and that they only just so happened to be concentrated in their area. In fact, assumptions are what make possible the subterfuge that an Orwellian government employs.

Society is now left with three cigarette companies producing, all reliant on government funding for success, and one completely controlled by the government—can you guess which of these three will be the victor? Ironically named (or maybe not…), it is in fact the Victory Cigarette company.

However, let’s not jump the gun, here. First things first: in order to “aid” the other two companies (let’s use Marlboro and Camel), and thus appear to be a fair and unbiased party, the government is going to give them a leg up—while simultaneously pleasing the people. They will announce that Marlboro has received the materials necessary for producing their classic cigarette, Marlboro Reds; and also, Camel has been granted limited annual quantities of the supplies needed to make their old favorites, the Ishmir Stingers. Keep in mind that the above process has taken at least fifty years to occur, or perhaps a little less. Because of the patience of the government (and perhaps the sneaky annihilation of “indie” news, and old documents proclaiming otherwise), the only people now to speak against what we will call the Cigarette Affair will be those long-ago ostracized people I mentioned earlier: the elders.

“I remember,” a grandfather will say, “a time when there were twenty cigarette companies, all producing menthols, lights, menthol lights, ultramenthol lights, menthol ultralights—everything you can imagine, and more!”

“Suuure you do, Dad,” his daughter will say, while she and her husband exchange knowing glances.

“Were there really all those cigarettes, Mom?” the grandchild will ask, when the family returns home.

“No, dear,” the mother will say patiently, “your grandfather has just gotten a little… old, you see, and his memory is a little faulty. Sometimes he even invents things…”

But now, regardless of the new variety offered, the supplies are limited and thus the cigarettes are expensive—and, in addition, after almost fifty years of only regular cigarettes (with other types becoming available only sporadically, unless one purchases from Victory Cigarettes), the demand for the Reds and the Stingers is low. They are considered an exotic delicacy for the few who remain of the upper class (because, of course, one must keep in mind that cigarettes are in no way the only economic cut-backs that have been made, not the only companies taken over by the government; in fact, if we are working towards an Orwellian reality, then we must imagine that all aspects of the culture are slowly following along these lines as well).

After an acceptable period of time spent attempting to successfully sell these new rarities, the companies will be forced to give up. In addition, the government will regret to announce, the cost of the Stinger materials and production—the sales of which failed miserably—has forced Camel to close down.

Now it is a race between Marlboro and Victory Cigarettes. Marlboro is producing regular cigarettes, and sometimes the hard-to-find lights; Victory is producing an abundance of regulars, lights, and menthols, and of excellent quality thanks to the government’s funding—while Marlboro, previously aided but now abandoned by the government, is struggling to produce something at all smoke-able. It is only a matter of time until Victory is the only available brand—“And good riddance to that Marlboro company, too,” the public will say; “the cigarettes were no good, and plus I saw on the news that the government suspected them of being in cohorts with the Arabian empire!” (It makes no difference that a cigarette company would have nothing to gain from conspiring with the Arabs, at this point in the evolution of the Orwellian society; if the news said it, and the government thought it, then it would be considered only logical to assume that there was something to be gained.)

We can estimate that it has taken an additional ten or twenty years to narrow it down to just Victory Cigarettes. The lack of print, or the lack of freedom in print (for it is safe, I think, to imagine that by this time such a government would have evolved into a completely Orwellian one insofar as media is concerned), has allowed a complete misinterpretation of what happened to the cigarette companies. Those old enough seventy years prior to know what smoking life was like would now be old enough to have absolutely no credibility. For all the people know, there was always only one cigarette company.

But don’t make the mistake of assuming that the government is done! Au contraire, the real aim, the real driving-home of my point of “suppression becomes freedom”, is actually yet to come. The final step, you see, would be to actually close down Victory Cigarettes for a time. Those industrious enough to produce—or wealthy enough to purchase—tobacco in the raw would be able to make their own cigarettes, but this number of people would be almost too miniscule to be worthy of mention. Five, ten, perhaps fifteen or even twenty years would be allowed to pass before, in an “act of ultimate victory”, the government would find the resources to reopen Victory Cigarettes and resume production, though only of regular cigarettes.

The media will carry on for more than a week with praises for the mighty and magnificent government; so amazing, how they managed to suddenly pool together resources the world had thought unobtainable, and somehow pooled enough to reopen Victory Cigarettes! (In extreme cases, there would be parades throughout the country to memorialize the “great event”; it would be completely forgotten, in all cases, that the government had been the one to shut down the company to begin with.) The cigarettes would be of a low quality, but no one would in truth care—they were cigarettes, and that is what would matter. The event would “restore the troops’ morale”, so to say; that the Amazing Government could give the people a cigarette company, at long last, would thrill the people to no end, and would make them feel like maybe things really were going to improve.

Perhaps the reopening would be announced live in front of the factory; tears of pride would well in everyone’s eyes; there would be a “cheer heard ‘round the world”, if I may, when the symbolic ribbon was cut. “The severing of that ribbon stands for the severing of our bonds,” a teary-eyed reporter would say. “That sliced ribbon signifies our…” (That’s right, you know what he’s going to say…) “…FREEDOM!”

Yes, it has finally happened; our circle has finally completed itself. By taking, and then giving a little back—by the manipulation of media, of print, of memory—by taking two steps back, but one very ceremonious and impressive step forwards, the government has managed to give the illusion of progress. Suppression has become freedom; war has become peace.

So, as is now obvious, history is a vital part of the opinions and beliefs of the people. It is irrelevant whether one refers to the history of the recent or distant past; both are equally important, and, both are equally susceptible to being altered, or even erased. The modern world takes for granted that they “know more” and are “more open-minded” than past societies have been; this is what allows for the “Nubians vs. Egyptians” dispute, and this is also what would give the opportunity for the “Cigarette Affair”. Modern man assumes that he is safe against being tricked or fooled because of this knowledge on which he so prides himself. He assumes that he knows enough to never be misled; equally, he assumes that other men know enough to never attempt to mislead him.

Americans take for granted that our government, compared to those of days gone by, is not corrupt or deceitful. Even with the knowledge that all governments are to an extent corrupted, most Americans are certain in their knowledge that their government will never attempt a total takeover. The reality, of course, is that the certainty of such is exactly what makes it likely to happen. The generation that suspects and questions is only getting older, and newer generations are only getting more comfortable.

What does all of this have to do with print? Everything, in my opinion. There is a specific reason that our generation has grown comfortable, and it is that our society, ever since the fifties, has taken a marked departure from the intellectual, and evolved into a culture of technical studies. Only a very basic ability to articulate is required; if one compares the fiction of today to the literature of the Victorian era, our own time’s writing is found to be remarkably lacking, and that is not simply a variation in style. It is an extreme reduction of the average individual’s vocabulary and his understanding of grammar. Those who say “For whom is the letter?” instead of “Who’s it for?” are granted odd looks by the majority of our society—and the same has taken place in our understanding of history. If one knows, off the top of one’s head, which English King sat the throne before the king (Charles I) who was in power during Cromwell’s rebellion, you are considered ridiculous (unless your profession orbits around such subject matter, and even then the youth of today considers you silly).

“Cold War Academics”, a friend of mine likes to call it. Science and math, science and math, science and math—the other stuff is just there to meet the minimum criteria required of a student. The history of the entire world is crammed down into a few months, and most of it is rushed through—until you reach the World War era, which is what most of your class time is spent studying. Even United States History is mostly about wars and dates, and has little to do with thoughts and ideals. The course offered on economics is a joke; its main purpose is to occupy you for a year between World and US History, and to catch you up on the American Revolution (on which very little time is spent).

With this abandonment of literature and history, we risk abandoning our thoughts and our intellect; we risk everything. A departure from the intellectual is a departure from real knowledge; by breeding generation after generation of scientists and mathematicians, the government is breeding a society of workers who know only the technical, and not the intellectual. It is true that by stressing mathematics, we will not soon be believing that two and two are five; however, we could very soon believe that Cromwell was a figure of the imagination, and Joan d’Arc was a metaphor.

“He who forgets the past is condemned to repeat it.” Unless we know our history—our world’s history, and not just America and Europe from the Cold War onward—we will make our mistakes again, and again, and again. When people hear this, they imagine “past” to mean theirs, and “mistakes” to mean social blunders. They do not consider the full meaning of the phrase. What is meant is not that you will be doomed to say the wrong thing in public again and again—no, I believe that phrase means that if humanity forgets its past, it will be doomed to repeat its mistakes. If humanity forgets how German society’s ignorance led to the rise of the Nazi Party, then it leaves itself susceptible to the coming of another Hitler. If America forgets how it left itself open to attack on 11 September, 2001, then it only opens the door for further assaults. If France forgets what suppression was brought by its former emperors, it will invite a totalitarian ruler to take the country under his power.

Print is as important as it is dangerous; without an oral tradition, we as a society rely on print to teach us the mistakes of those who have come before us. Therefore every effort must be made to learn all that we can as a society, as a species, so that we may not only guard against repeating old mistakes, but also so that we may be ever vigilant, that we may watch out for those who seek to manipulate or destroy us by turning our own weapon against us. So many aspects of modern society are double-edged that sometimes it is hard to know what will help us, and what will hurt us. The right to bear arms leaves us vulnerable to the shots fired by neighbors or coworkers; however, it also gives us the ability to shoot back in our defense, and helps to safeguard against government takeover.

It frightens me to think that some people are not even sure what the Declaration of Independence says; sure, they may recall a few oft-repeated phrases, but by and large they are as clueless as an illiterate Ethiopian. This is print without knowledge; this provides the perfect opportunity for manipulation of print, and thus manipulation through print. With patience, a government could limit or even destroy knowledge of its constitution, of all its inner workings. It takes cooperation, it takes diligence, neither of which the American Government is well-known for, but it is still so frighteningly possible. Once it had nearly obliterated knowledge of the constitution and of the Declaration, it could change them at will, and make it known that they had always been that way. And if there are none among us who are educated enough to know—if there are none among us old enough to remember—if there are not enough among us who know better—then we will have no choice but to believe that those documents had never been changed.

And then, according to Winston, they would have always been that way—for if that is how we remember it, then that is how it is.