Whilst attending a skills workshop at my University just the other day, the feeling that I was somehow fraudulent and unworthy hit me in the face. I was discussing my research with a group of PhD student from the sciences and technology who were working on potentially life changing and world-impacting projects. These included intuitive prosthetic limbs, climate change, sanitation for refugee camps and oil drilling solutions. And what did I gave to offer to the table? I revealed my project with resounding embarrassment. ‘I’m researching the Royal Navy’ I said. Specifically I am developing a new theory that destroyers were symbolic of British values and served as unifying spaces representing masculinity and patriotism. The reaction was mixed. I began to explain how specifically this kind of ship resonated more with the ratings and public than any other, it represented a floating community like no other full of camaraderie and heroism. That’s when some interesting questions came. Are you interviewing veterans? Well, no, I said. What has your data concluded so far? I don’t have data sets, I said. Silence fell. Maybe the scientists in the room could not grasp how you could possibly be conducting ground breaking research without new data or why even this project was important.
I went home and felt like someone had shamed me in front of a room of Naval history experts, when in fact my colleagues in that room knew no more of the importance of my work than I knew of theirs. It is because my work seemingly cannot be easily applied to the everyday lives of millions. However, I challenge this. And of all things, it took a rewatching of ‘A beautiful mind’ with Russel Crowe to make me realise that not all new theories have to present immediate value in the wider world to be important, only after we figure out how it can be applied do we realise that scholarly thought is perhaps the most powerful tool. I started my research journey because I felt I had an important thing to say. Something that I thought might not only challenge and develop the way we study Naval history but also improve our understand of British Heritage. I firmly believe that the study and revision of history is fundamentally one of the key elements of social development; simply put, if we understand how our societies way of thinking got to where it is now, maybe we can understand how national and world events might impact us as a community in the future.
My study is of course very specific. Studying a particular kind of ship as emblematic of a wider national belief and behaviour system is a niche. A niche that other historians have called for development. So yes, I am responding to this direct call to understand the social histories of our Naval service but I’m going further to understand how this ties in with the British society of the time. I have always felt compelled to make an original contribution, to achieve something remarkable, to make my work count. This I cannot profess to do…just yet. But I’m striving for that extraordinary accolade of renowned historian. Even if I do not achieve any kind of major impact in the way we study our own histories, I will always reinforce my core belief; that history is just as important as any other aspect of our society. It informs, challenges, encourages and directs our futures.
So, do I feel like the imposter in the room? No. Do I deserve to be there with scientists solving some of the worlds most pressing issues? Yes I think so.
J Friend: Naval History 