Abstract
In Generations and Collective Memory, Corning and Schuman collate and distil the research they and their colleagues have conducted over the last several decades examining the formation of collective memories and collective knowledge. In particular, they examine how different generations come to remember different aspects of a nation’s past and why this might be the case. Corning and Schuman argue that these generational differences, by and large, can be explained by the critical years hypothesis, which states, “individuals who were in their critical years when an event occurred are more likely to remember the event as important then are those from earlier or later birth cohorts” (p. 80). While I do have some reservations, which I will get to, I found this book enjoyable, well written, and engaging. I believe both researchers in the field of memory studies and lay individuals will find this book interesting, useful, and accessible.
In their introduction, the authors provide a needed examination of what defines a collective memory and a generation. Critically, in terms of the former, the authors acknowledge that collective memory is defined and conceptualized in various ways across disciplines and researchers. In sum, they state, “the common conceptual element is simply remembrance of the past in some form by or for a collectivity large or small” (p. 6). While vast in its breadth, it suffices to capture, perhaps not its nuances, but the general “spirit” of what is meant by collective memory. However, despite acknowledging how size of the collectivity may vary from large to small, the entire book focuses solely on larger collectivities. While this is fine, the authors should have warned the reader of this fact.
As for the latter, the authors define a “generation” as a group of individuals born during a particular time period who have similar cultural/social attitudes. The authors acknowledge that this latter attribute is somewhat subjective. Thus, the book, by and large, conceptualizes generation according to the former.
Before moving on, the authors detail their method. Much of what they discuss in this book stems from the authors and their colleague’s own research. In general, their findings come from open-ended survey questions about past national events.
Part 1: revising collective memories
In Part 1 (Chapters 1 to 3), the authors examine the collective memory Americans have surrounding three prominent, historical figures: Christopher Columbus, Thomas Jefferson/Sally Hemings, and Abraham Lincoln. In particular, the authors are interested in the extent to which Americans’ collective memory of these individuals may or may not change over time and/or place.
In terms of Columbus (Chapter 1), the authors demonstrate how, for most Americans, the collective memory surrounding Columbus is largely positive and that this can be attributed to cultural artifacts (e.g. textbooks and commemorations). However, starting in the 1970s, there was a revisionist movement that emphasized the negative consequences emanating from Columbus’ arrival to the Americas. The authors’ primary interest was whether this more negative re-appraisal of Columbus may have reshaped the way Americans remember him. To put it succinctly, it did not.
In their examination of Jefferson/Hemings (Chapter 2), the authors’ primary concern was to what extent Americans knew about Sally Hemings, Thomas Jefferson’s slave whom he allegedly had sexual relations with. The authors make two important points here: (1) despite some well-publicized reports (e.g. in Nature and the New York Times, not to mention some movies) connecting the DNA of Sally Hemings ancestors with Jefferson’s lineage, the American public has remained largely ignorant of who Sally Hemings was and (2) to the extent to which Americans do know her, it is greatly shaped by social identity (e.g. both African Americans and women were both more likely to know about Sally Hemings compared to European Americans and men).
In their discussion surrounding Abraham Lincoln (Chapter 3), the authors highlight the importance of “framing.” That is, the way a question is crafted can shape the way individuals answer it. For example, the authors found that when Americans are asked about lessons they can learn from Lincoln in terms of what he “did” versus in terms of his “life,” participants are more likely to provide responses surrounding his accomplishments during his presidency (e.g. the Great Emancipator) versus his personal character (e.g. honest), respectively. Such changes highlight the fluidity by which collective memory may change and/or become more or less accessible at any given point in time.
Part 2: the critical years and other sources of collective memory
In Part 2 (Chapters 4 and 5), the authors delineate their critical years hypothesis (Chapter 5) using their American examples and illustrate how this hypothesis informs similar findings across eight other countries (Chapter 6). In developing their critical years hypothesis, the authors rely upon Mannheim’s ([1936] 1952) seminal work on generations, who posited that it is between the ages of 17 and 25 that a generation is formed. From this, the authors forged their hypothesis. Through their studies, the authors noticed that when asked to provide the most important events or changes over the past 50 or so years, individuals tended to list events or changes that occurred when the participant was between the ages of 18 and 30. The authors argue that this occurs because it is during this period in which such events “are experienced as ‘first’ events” (p. 101). In Chapter 5, they proceed to provide further evidence in favor of the critical years hypothesis by collecting samples from Germany, Japan, Israel, China, Lithuania, Russia, Ukraine, and Pakistan.
However, the authors note that not all historical events support the critical years hypothesis, such as the Moon landing for Americans, the Holocaust for Israelis, and Lithuanian independence (1990–1991) for Lithuanians. For each of these, the respective populations tended to report them as important regardless of when they were born. In response, the authors argue that the Moon landing was particularly memorable because it was “announced well ahead of time and readily experienced by sitting in front of a television set” (p. 99); the Holocaust was particularly memorable because “… of deliberate and fully implemented commemoration and its widespread influence” (p. 109); Lithuanian Independence because “… [it had] pervasive and enduring consequences for much of the population” (p. 115). These events thereby have a lasting mnemonic impact on most of the people alive during the time they occur, not just those born during the critical years period and are what the authors refer to as lifetime events.
However, if what is guiding the critical years effect is simply the first time experiencing a particular type of event, it seems that a more parsimonious explanation would be that each of these events was, in fact, a “first” as well. I think this could nicely explain the Moon landing (first for all Americans) and Lithuanian Independence (first for all Lithuanians alive). Alternatively, the Holocaust may not fit as nicely within this mold. However, while it’s true that Jews have been persecuted prior to the Holocaust, the Holocaust was a peak moment in such persecution and, in turn, represents a unique (though, tragic) moment in their past. Thus, while it is true that the commemoration of the Holocaust may enhance recall, it still represents a unique or “first” event, whether the individual was alive during that time or not.
In sum, it seems, at the heart of their hypothesis is the preeminence of “firsts.” If so, a logical extrapolation is to examine instances where events did not occur during the critical years period but, nonetheless, represented “firsts.” I contend that the authors did provide such instances but failed to examine them in this regard. Doing so may have further strengthened their argument.
Part 3: beyond critical years effects
In Part 3 (Chapters 6 to 10), the authors show that emigrating from Lithuania to the United States does not increase recall of national events surrounding their arrive in the United States (Chapter 6); that national events (e.g. Vietnam War) that occur during an individual’s critical years period shape their attitudes toward similar events (e.g. Iraqi War) (Chapter 7); that there is a similar phenomenon in the psychological literature for autobiographical memories known as the reminiscence bump (Rubin et al., 1998; but also see Koppel, 2013, for a summarization of research examining recall of public events) (Chapter 8); that there is some evidence that events that occur during the critical years period correspond with knowledge surrounding the event (vs simply recalling the event) and the complexity in the type of errors individuals would make when recalling these events (e.g. inversion: inverting the actual connection between two facts/events/individuals), but further research is needed (Chapter 9); and, last, that commemorations can facilitate the recall of events like the 9/11 terrorist attacks and Woodstock. However, unlike 9/11, only those with limited knowledge (vs those extensive knowledge) about Woodstock exhibited mnemonic benefits as a result of commemorations (Chapter 10) (I encourage the interested reader to also see Hirst and colleagues’ research providing additional support for the importance of media/commemoration in maintaining knowledge of 9/11 and the Challenger explosion over time; Hirst et al., 2009). The authors then close the book with some concluding thoughts.
I will not delve into each of these chapters; however, I will highlight that in the psychological literature, researchers do find an effect of immigration for autobiographical memories (Schrauf and Rubin, 2001). One possible explanation for this may be the temporal difference across the two studies in terms of when they took place versus when the participants actually emigrated (1–11 years; Corning, 2010) and immigrated (20–30 years; Schrauf and Rubin, 2001). It is not presently clear why they these mnemonic differences occurred, but given the methodological differences (and limited number of studies), any definitive conclusions remain elusive.
Additionally, I encourage the authors and the interested reader to consider other possible mechanisms driving the critical years effect commonly examined within the broader psychological literature. These include the cognitive framework (similar to the authors’ “first” event explanation), a narrative/identity framework (the period in which individuals develop their adult identity), and life scripts (retrieved memories are shaped by a culturally based schedule for when transitional events should unfold) (Rubin and Berntsen, 2003). If nothing else, the authors’ quick acceptance of the “first event” explanation for why individuals often recall events that occurred during the critical years period may be a bit premature. While further research is needed to better understand the mechanisms driving this effect, the reminiscence bump literature for both autobiographical and public events may help in this endeavor.
In conclusion, despite some of the concerns raised above, I found this book to be insightful and a joy to read. If nothing else, this scholarly work provides fodder for future research by providing simple, testable hypotheses about when and why individuals may recall some national events and not others. Generations and Collective Memory, in sum, will be a valuable addition to the library of anyone interested in autobiographical memory, collective memory, and memory studies, in general.