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AI: good or bad for history? Our experts weigh in
As artificial intelligence penetrates almost every aspect of our lives, six historians debate whether the opportunities it offers to the discipline outweigh the threats
“We must experiment thoughtfully, push back critically, and make the case that slow, humanistic thinking still matters” Artificial intelligence isn’t inherently good or bad. Like the printing press or the written word itself, AI is a force – and whether it enhances or undermines historical practice will depend on who uses it, how, and why. AI’s most obvious advantage is that it can process vast amounts of data much faster than your regular historian, which turns it into an incredible asset. The trick here is to use it as it was originally meant to be used – not to replace human interpretation but to identify patterns that humans might not notice and, thus, to enable us to come up with better, more nuanced questions. But it goes beyond that. AI is forcing historians to rethink what constitutes evidence, authorship and interpretation. In doing so, it is not just supporting existing historical methods, it’s helping evolve them. Though I am not worried that historians will be replaced by AI any time soon, there is a risk that indiscriminate use might flatten out the practice. Good history requires doubt, contradiction, ambivalence, even uncertainty, but AI models are designed to produce smooth answers even when the data is messy or the past is unknowable. Moreover, history isn’t just knowledge – it’s a method of knowing. If AI shortcuts the method, it threatens the discipline’s integrity. There is little doubt that AI will be part of historical research, but it is crucial that historians shape its use to enhance rather than undermine our craft. We should resist the urge to scale for scale’s sake, and instead use AI to deepen, not dilute, historical understanding. If we do that, and embed AI within the discipline’s values – critical thinking, reflexivity, contextual awareness – then historians will become central in answering the question of whether AI is good or bad for history. We must experiment thoughtfully, push back critically, and make the case that slow, humanistic thinking still matters, even in an age of rapid computation. I am confident that the tables will turn, and we’ll soon talk about the ways in which history is good for AI. Delfi Nieto-Isabel is a lecturer in medieval and digital history, and co-director of the Digital Lives Programme at Queen Mary University of London “The best results come when humans work alongside machine-generated intuitions” In his classic Foundation series, sci-fi author Isaac Asimov explored the idea of statistically based ‘psycho-history’, by which the future could be predicted through the mathematical analysis of data on the past and present. With the rise of generative AI, it may feel as if a dystopian version of Asimov’s future is edging towards reality, but there are grounds to be a little more positive. A great deal of what historians do is attempting to understand past societies by observing patterns in the evidence they left behind. Machines are spectacularly good at this, and the large language models of contemporary AI take this to a new level. To take an example from my own area of work, texts inscribed on stone in a variety of ancient languages survive from the Roman world in their hundreds of thousands. These are often fragmentary and difficult to interpret. To make sense of them, both individually and en masse, as evidence for ancient societies and languages, historians need to compare these texts with one another. But to do so requires familiarity with them all, and the ability to find and compare parallels or identify patterns. Large language models specially trained on this material can now offer suggestions for missing words, dates and origins of this material, precisely because they see patterns across the material that a solitary human might find only after days or weeks of library work – or not at all. Read more | Be wary of technology’s big promises, but roll with the changes The crucial point, however, is that these are suggestions – and the models can offer multiple suggestions, ranked by probability and exposing some of the underlying reasoning. The best results come when humans work alongside machine-generated intuitions. Correlation is not the same as causation, and history is a fundamentally human ‘science’. Nuance, context and, above all, humanity is fundamental to understanding our past, present and future. If that is surrendered to a machine then all of it is lost, and we are no longer writing our own history. Every generation writes its own history, it’s said. Powerful AI can stimulate that process – but it certainly cannot write it for us. Jonathan Prag is professor of ancient history at the University of Oxford, and a co-author of the Aeneas AI model for contextualising ancient inscriptions (predictingthepast.com) “Fake ‘historical’ images and texts are already circulating and, with ever-greater sophistication, they will become harder to spot” Historians have been using AI for many years as an important tool for exploring and analysing the vast digitised and born-digital materials that increasingly constitute our primary sources. For instance, using AI it becomes possible to extract the names of all members of parliament mentioned in historical Hansard, identify the themes and topics on which they have spoken, and trace changes of emphasis over time. Handwritten text recognition technologies enable the accurate transcription of manuscript collections at scale. There are many other examples. <img src="https://images.immediate.co.uk/production/volatile/sites/7/2025/12/EMBCXW-e6484e8-e1765189009771.jpg" width="1500" height="1000" alt="A line of light blue book spines with gold words on them, each with a year and volume number on them" title="Hansard, the official record of British parliamentary debates compiled by reporters is another vast repository of information that AI can help interrogate (Image by Alamy)" /> This has been unhelpfully elided by the use of ‘AI’ as synonymous with generative AI. Machine learning, however, has not captured the public imagination in the same way as GenAI, with its easy-to-use chatbot interfaces. The speed with which GenAI has become near-ubiquitous, allowing no time to consider all of the ramifications, seems bewildering. Familiar software packages and media platforms are increasingly cluttered with invitations to ask an AI assistant for help. The AI-generated is entangled with the human-created in ways that undoubtedly pose real difficulties for the integrity of the historical record. Fake ‘historical’ images and texts are already circulating and, with ever-greater sophistication, they will become harder to spot. This is a huge challenge, but it is also an opportunity for historians to apply their knowledge and expertise to a problem that requires particular critical skills. A 2025 study sponsored by Microsoft sought to identify those occupations most at risk from GenAI. Historians came second, behind interpreters and translators. Dredge operators, last on the list, can apparently be more confident about their future role. But historians can help navigate this new knowledge landscape. Insightful source criticism, deep understanding of context, awareness of archival absence and loss, and a commitment to centring the human experience in the technological are key elements of historical research and practice. Arguably, they have never been more useful. Jane Winters is professor of digital humanities at the School of Advanced Study, University of London “Reading is thinking. Writing is thinking. These core skills cannot be outsourced without losing something fundamental” We seek to understand ourselves by exploring our pasts – and AI will not change this fundamental urge. The digital revolution has already transformed the historian’s work considerably, without fundamentally altering our purpose. Much change has been positive. Barriers of geography, cost and materiality have collapsed, broadening access to history as never before. Less profitably, instant access and keyword searching deprive us of context, and we are less likely to understand the systems that sort, sift and deliver our sources. Always, we shape and are shaped by our tools in a relationship that must be carefully negotiated. Read more | Artificial intelligence: a modern advance or an ancient nightmare? Utopians and naysayers are united in their confidence that AI will change everything. We must recognise such predictions as products of a moment of frenzied development and investment. Once the hype has died down, historians will adapt – just as we did to that other over-hyped but transformational technology, the internet. <img src="https://images.immediate.co.uk/production/volatile/sites/7/2025/12/GettyImages-1081366104-f6643cf-e1765189043171.jpg" width="1500" height="1000" alt="The Maughan Library, King’s College London: “Students learn that critical reading and precision writing are the essential tools for engaging with the complex human past,” says Chris Sparks (Image by Getty Images)" title="The Maughan Library, King’s College London: “Students learn that critical reading and precision writing are the essential tools for engaging with the complex human past,” says Chris Sparks (Image by Getty Images)" /> We will use AI where it can help us – to automate repetitive tasks, to ‘distantly read’ sources identifying areas for closer inspection, or to hone our prose. But we will remain wary of its dangers – not least its tendency to hide its sources and make things up. Hopefully, new tools will become available that reduce our dependence on centrally controlled systems, allowing more thoughtful, bespoke and informed use. We must think carefully about how we use AI in the classroom, too. Students learn that critical reading and precision writing are the essential tools for engaging with the complex human past. Reading is thinking. Writing is thinking. These core skills cannot be outsourced without losing something fundamental. They can be honed only with practice, and we must protect space for that in our teaching. Yet we cannot simply ignore AI, because we have begun to encounter its output routinely in our daily lives. History is a project, not a product. If AI ushers in an era of fast, cheap, mass-produced text, then the skills that history teaches will only become more valuable. Chris Sparks is a senior lecturer in digital history at Queen Mary University of London “AI offers the chance to explore archives at scale, ask new questions and uncover new patterns" There are plenty of anxieties about AI. This should not surprise us: in the past, new technologies such as the railway resulted in moral panics. Rather than a threat, AI can be used – just as other technologies have been. It is important to draw a distinction between functions sometimes described as ‘generative’ and ‘hermeneutic’. The former is what first comes to mind: it can be used to write text, including historical arguments. The latter is using AI to ‘distant read’ large bodies of texts, including archives. Much criticism levelled at AI tends to focus on generative AI – for example, teachers’ fears that students will ‘cheat’ on essays, simply entering the assigned title and word length as a prompt, then leaving AI to produce a passable composition within seconds. <img src="https://images.immediate.co.uk/production/volatile/sites/7/2025/12/GettyImages-569178239-233888a-e1765189068133.jpg" width="1500" height="1000" alt="A woman holds up an old passport in front of her face. On the left page there is a black and white photo of a young girl" title="A Jewish woman holds a copy of fake papers enabling her to flee the Netherlands after the Nazi invasion: AI helps researchers search huge archives of testimonies by Holocaust survivors (Image by Getty Images)" /> Where AI has greater value for historians is as a hermeneutic tool. It is helpful to remember a point that Todd Presner makes to scholars in his 2024 book Ethics of the Algorithm: Digital Humanities and Holocaust Memory – that computers ‘read’ differently from humans, but neither better nor worse than us. The challenge facing historians is how to use this technology to ask new questions, particularly to interrogate vast archives that cannot be comprehensively searched through more traditional methods. One area in which I, and other interdisciplinary teams, have been experimenting is using digital methods to access stories of Holocaust survivors in oral history collections. These are typically too large for any one person to watch in their life. The USC Shoah Foundation Visual History Archive, for example, contains more than 55,000 interviews, each 2–3 hours long. Read more | "A tidal wave of digital material will overwhelm recordkeeping institutions": the future of history Rather than replacing close reading – or watching and listening – of these interviews, AI offers the chance to explore archives at scale, ask new questions and uncover new patterns that invite close reading. For example, what pronouns – I or we – do men and women use to tell what is variously a solo or shared story? Where and why do silences occur in oral history archives as the past becomes too hard to retell? Critical use offers opportunities to do history differently. Tim Cole is professor of social history at the University of Bristol “AI promises to make history faster, but also shallower” AI is often hailed as the next great tool for historians. It can scan entire archives in seconds, collate references across databases, and generate polished prose at the click of a button. On the surface, this seems like liberation from drudgery. But, in speeding up our work, AI also risks hollowing it out. History is not simply a matter of data extraction. The working historian does more than harvest facts: we interrogate silences in sources, wrestle with contradictions in established narratives, and read against the grain of the archive. AI machine tools excel at spotting patterns but fail at understanding nuance. They can tell you how often a phrase appears in a colonial newspaper, but not why irony mattered to the writer, nor how absence itself can be evidence. Outsourcing too much to algorithms risks confusing fluency with insight. The bigger danger, however, lies in how AI will shape the dissemination of history. Museums, publishers and even classrooms may come to rely on AI-generated summaries to teach the past. This could democratise access, but it could also flatten differences and sanitise conflict. History risks being repackaged into uniform, bite-sized ‘lessons’ optimised for clarity rather than complexity. That should alarm any historian who believes that the discipline’s value lies in argument and debate. AI will certainly change the rhythms of our work. It helps me, as a historian of modern subcontinental Buddhism, to map far-flung connections between texts in English, Hindi and Sinhalese. But if I do not remain critical, it is all too easy to mistake the machine’s quick outputs for deeper interpretation. And if the wider public comes to accept AI’s versions of the past as authoritative, the historian’s role as interpreter and critic could be diminished. The challenge for us is clear. AI will not replace historians, but it could deskill us if we let it. Indeed, it promises to make history faster, but also shallower. Our task is to ensure that the speed it offers does not come at the cost of depth – because history done fast is rarely history done well. Bhadrajee Hewage recently completed a DPhil in history from Trinity College Oxford, researching trends in subcontinental Buddhism during the late colonial and early postcolonial periods This article was first published in the December 2025 issue of BBC History Magazine
From goat eyelids to bread: history's 12 strangest sex toys
Our ancestors weren’t quite as prudish as we like to think they were. Hilary Mitchell looks at some of the tools past generations have used in the pursuit of sexual pleasure – from steam-powered vibrators to goat eyelids
This article contains explicit descriptions of sex and sexual practices throughout – please use discretion 1. The Hohle Fels phallus Around 28,000 years ago, an effigy of a human penis was left inside Hohle Fels cave, southwestern Germany. Made from fine-grained siltstone, the object was meticulously ground, polished and etched with grooves at both ends. Given its polished surface and true-to-life size, some researchers have suggested it may well have been an early masturbatory aid – or the first-ever dildo, to put it bluntly. However, that was not the artefact’s only possible purpose. When University of Tübingen archaeologist Nicholas J Conard first announced the find in 2005, he suggested that it was also used for knapping flints. <img src="https://images.immediate.co.uk/production/volatile/sites/7/2025/11/1D3GB1X-3e0e6f1-e1764240558215.jpg" width="1500" height="1000" alt="A man holds a phallus-shaped object in his hands, while a woman points to it. In the background, a group of people are working on excavating the floor of a cave" title="Archaeologists Nicholas Conrad and Petra Kieselbach pose with the Hohle Fels phallus shortly after its discovery in 2005" /> 2. Bread Yes, that’s right. As well as being a staple food in ancient times, bread may also have been used for less salubrious purposes. A passage from the Babylonian Talmud, for instance, contains a description of what should be done to treat a man afflicted by a puncture in his penis. The suggested solution is that a piece of warm barley bread should be placed on the man’s anus to induce ejaculation, proving whether or not the perforation has properly healed. Notably, the ancient Greeks are also said to have used makeshift sex toys known as olisbokollikes: batons of stale bread that were inserted into the anus, using olive oil as lubrication. It may sound far-fetched (and could have just been a rude joke), but the practice is mentioned in the lexicon of Hesychius of Alexandria, compiled in the fifth or sixth century AD. 3. Goat eyelids Texts from ancient China describe penis rings made from a rather unusual material: goat eyelids, often with the eyelashes left intact. These were reportedly used between the third and fifth centuries AD to enhance sexual pleasure and performance by trapping blood within the penis. The elasticity of the goat eyelid was presumably the major selling point, but leaving the eyelashes on suggested they played a part too, potentially providing extra stimulation for both parties. By the 1600s, some Chinese men had upgraded their penis ring technology. These more modern devices were made from materials like jade and ivory, and were ornately carved, often depicting dragons. The dragons’ tongues usually extended to form a protruding nub, which could be placed against the woman’s clitoris to enhance her pleasure during intercourse – a forerunner to today’s clitoral stimulators. <img src="https://images.immediate.co.uk/production/volatile/sites/7/2025/11/4GettyImages-1052933946-4c20b47-e1764240604387.jpg" width="1500" height="1000" alt="Evidence from ancient China suggests that goats’ eyelids were used to heighten sexual pleasure for both men and women (Image by Getty Images)" title="Evidence from ancient China suggests that goats’ eyelids were used to heighten sexual pleasure for both men and women (Image by Getty Images)" /> Read more | What did the Tudors think was ‘good’ sex? These tips and tricks were key to relationships in the 16th century 4. Apadravya (‘apparatus’) Even if you’re not remotely interested in the history of sex and sexuality, you’ll have likely heard of Vātsyāyana’s third-century AD tome, the Kama Sutra. As well as guidance about living a healthy sex life, the Sanskrit text also extols the virtues of using apadravya (‘apparatus’) to enhance one’s pleasure, describing the use of dildos, penis extenders and other sex aids made of wood, rubber, gold, silver, copper and ivory. Some of the devices are particularly unusual: one is shaped like a flower bud, while another resembles an elephant’s trunk. If that wasn’t enough, the Kama Sutra also contains instructions for creating artificial vaginas made of “hollowed-out pumpkins” and bamboo moistened with oil or ointment. Sounds a bit more effective than bread… 5. The Science Museum’s luxury ivory dildo One of the best-documented early modern sex toys is currently in the care of London’s Science Museum. Labelled “ivory dildo with a contrivance for simulating ejaculation”, the 18th-century device takes the form of an erect penis and includes a small pump and reservoir, seemingly intended to cause fluid to shoot out at an opportune moment. Curiously, the catalogue entry also states that the item was “found in the stuffed seat of a Louis XV armchair, which was in a convent on the banks of the Seine, near Paris”, but how it got there is a mystery sadly lost to the mists of time. 6. George Taylor’s steam-powered ‘Manipulator’ he ivory dildo might have been very novel in many ways, but one crucial thing that it didn’t do was vibrate. So where did the concept of the vibrator come from? The answer, it appears, lies in a steam-powered device from 1869 known as the ‘Manipulator’. Invented by American physician George Taylor, the Manipulator was not a theme park ride as its name suggests, but a large, padded table connected to vibrating ball, which would be positioned against the patient’s pelvic area as they lay on the device. The ball – which was powered by a coal-fired steam engine – provided continuous mechanical stimulation and was described as a “medical vibrating and kneading machine”. The Manipulator was an adaptation of a similar machine created by Swedish physical therapist Gustaf Zander; Taylor merely improved on Zander’s ideas by attaching his ‘Medical Rubbing Apparatus’ to what was, in effect, a stationary steam engine. However, Taylor warned physicians who bought the device that treatment of female pelvic complaints with the Manipulator should be supervised to prevent “overindulgence”. 7. ‘Rubber women’ Rubber, in its natural form, has been known and used for thousands of years, but modern rubber as we know it today was developed much later. In 1839, American inventor Charles Goodyear discovered vulcanisation, a process that made rubber strong, elastic and weather-resistant, paving the way for a wide range of industrial and consumer applications – some of which were later exploited for erotic purposes. Selected accounts suggest that, by the 1850s, manufacturers were producing rubber items that could be interpreted as early forms of sex dolls. These items have been described as ‘rubber women’ or femmes en caoutchouc in French, though they were not explicitly advertised as sex toys. The first mention of manufactured sex dolls in academic literature appears in Iwan Bloch’s The Sexual Life of Our Time (1908), where he claims they were marketed primarily to sailors. However, modern scholarship suggests that Bloch relied heavily on fictional sources and exaggerated advertising, calling into question the book’s accuracy. Given the modern popularity of sex dolls, however, it seems plausible that variations on the theme may have existed in the early 20th century. <img src="https://images.immediate.co.uk/production/volatile/sites/7/2025/11/7.Femme-en-Caoutchouc-c16ea73-e1764241535367.png" width="620" height="413" alt="An illustration shows a man holding a rubber woman in his arms" title="A 19th-century French song, La Femme en Caoutchouc (‘The Rubber Woman’), tells the story of a sailor’s ‘relationship’ with a sex doll. The affair does not end well, as indicated by the illustrations adorning this edition of the sheet music" /> Read more | Rich men, reckless affairs and ruined reputations: the scandalous lives of London's 18th-century courtesans 8. Granville’s ‘Percuteur’ Large, steam-powered vibrators like George Taylor’s ‘Manipulator’ were far too bulky and costly for most physicians, so British doctor Joseph Mortimer Granville decided to invent a smaller, spring-driven electromechanical vibrator known as the ‘Percuteur’. After patenting his device in the early 1880s, Granville was adamant that it should only be intended for therapeutic use on men, stating: “I have avoided, and shall continue to avoid, the treatment of women by percussion… simply because I do not want to be hoodwinked… by the vagaries of the hysterical state.” It’s not clear whether fellow doctors heeded Granville’s advice, but it’s important to note that vibrators at the time were viewed primarily as medical instruments rather than sexual devices. Indeed, Dr Carol Queen – curator of the Antique Vibrator Museum in San Francisco – has cautioned against calling these early vibrators ‘sex toys’, saying: “The vibrators were not marketed and sold for this purpose. They were healthcare devices that just happened to cause orgasm if you knew where to apply the vibration… there is no evidence that people who owned or used them knew this… though there’s also no evidence that they didn’t.” 9. Dr Young’s Ideal Rectal Dilators Modern butt plugs did not originate as sex toys, but as treatments for a range of ‘rectal ailments’, including constipation and ‘nervousness’. They were first patented in 1892 and marketed as ‘Dr Young’s Ideal Rectal Dilators’ from 1893 to 1940. They were sold in sets of four, in increasing sizes, and advertisements and surviving sets show that each dilator had an olive or bullet-shaped tip and a flanged base to prevent full insertion – a shape strikingly similar to today’s butt plugs. The devices were made of rubber, and the instructions suggested they be used with either Dr Young’s Piloment lubricant or Vaseline. Like early vibrators, they were marketed as ‘healthcare devices’, but back then – as now – the human anus contained a great deal of nerve endings, meaning inserting the dilators into the rectum will have caused many ‘patients’ to experience sexual pleasure. To paraphrase Dr Carol Queen, there’s no evidence to suggest that people did use these dilators during sex – but, equally, there’s nothing to say they didn’t. <img src="https://images.immediate.co.uk/production/volatile/sites/7/2025/11/9Credit-CreepyCuteTreasuresEtsyDr-Youngs-Rectal-Dilators-7f08bac-e1764241593117.jpeg" width="1500" height="1000" alt="A set of Dr Young’s Ideal Rectal Dilators. The box’s instructions suggest that the user should keep their chosen dilator inserted for “half an hour” to achieve the best results (Image by CreepyCuteTreasures/Etsy)" title="A set of Dr Young’s Ideal Rectal Dilators. The box’s instructions suggest that the user should keep their chosen dilator inserted for “half an hour” to achieve the best results (Image by CreepyCuteTreasures/Etsy)" /> 10. Louis B Hawley’s Patented Penis Stiffener In 1907, US inventor Louis B Hawley sprang into action to quite literally support men with erection problems. Hawley’s patented ‘surgical appliance’ took the form of an external splint to keep the penis erect, with a covering to help hold it in place. Unfortunately, there are no first-hand accounts of how comfortable the device would have been for both parties, though given later patent writers’ critiques about its design being bulky and awkward, it’s probably fair to speculate that the answer may well have been “not very”. However, this early prototype did pave the way for more modern penis ‘stiffeners’, most notably Dr F Brantley Scott’s inflatable device, which was first sold in the 1970s and made up of two inflatable silicone cylinders with a reservoir and pump. That, in turn, led to the advent of surgically implanted and inflatable prostheses, which are still helping people enjoy robust and vigorous sex lives today. <img src="https://images.immediate.co.uk/production/volatile/sites/7/2025/11/10GettyImages-837400890-547dfa0-e1764241628703.jpg" width="1500" height="1000" alt="Physicians have long sought new ways to treat erectile dysfunction – including the creation of inflatable prostheses (Image by Getty Images)" title="Physicians have long sought new ways to treat erectile dysfunction – including the creation of inflatable prostheses (Image by Getty Images)" /> Read more | Queen Victoria’s voracious appetite for food and sex 11. Hand-cranked ‘massagers’ The earlier question of “but did people really use these things to masturbate?” raises its head again as we look at hand-cranked vibrators like Dr Macuara’s Blood Circulator, which was sold throughout the early 1900s and could deliver 6,000 vibrations per minute. At this time, masturbation was widely viewed as shameful, and ‘obscene’ content was illegal in the US under the 1873 Comstock Act. This meant that vibrators could not be openly advertised as sexual products. However, according to sex toy historian Hallie Lieberman, “it’s impossible to deny that sexual uses for vibrators weren’t known”. The makers of the Bebout Vibrator, for example, made their target market very clear in a 1908 advert, describing their device as “gentle, soothing, invigorating and refreshing [and] invented by a woman who knows a woman's needs”. Interestingly, many of these hand-cranked devices came with dildo-like attachments – though these were ‘officially’ intended to treat uterine complaints. <img src="https://images.immediate.co.uk/production/volatile/sites/7/2025/11/11-2RX45AW-0c62c65-e1764241663308.jpg" width="1500" height="1000" alt="Dr Macuara’s Blood Circulator could deliver 6,000 vibrations a minute – but it was never explicitly marketed as a sex toy (Image by Alamy)" title="Dr Macuara’s Blood Circulator could deliver 6,000 vibrations a minute – but it was never explicitly marketed as a sex toy (Image by Alamy)" /> 12. The Oster Stim-U-Lax This scalp massage device, marketed to barbers, promised to deliver “several thousand rotating-patting Swedish-type massage movements per minute” via the operator’s fingers. But it wasn’t only used on scalps. A frank first-hand account by US sex educator Betty Dodgson (1929–2020) describes using an Oster Stim-U-Lax with her lover in 1966, explaining: “One day he was getting a haircut when his barber ended with a scalp massage using a vibrating machine that was strapped onto the back of his hand. Grant got the bright idea that it would be great for sex. On our next date, Grant brought out his new toy for us to try. Although I wasn't all that crazy about getting off on a mechanical device, my motto is to always try everything at least once.” It was, according to Dodgson’s account, extremely effective, and led her to become a keen advocate for vibrators from that point onwards. Dodgson is even credited with helping to bring such sex toys into the mainstream, promoting devices such as the now-ubiquitous Hitachi Magic Wand, first marketed in 1968.
Star witness: how the Royal Observatory transformed our understanding of astronomy and time
From the moment it was founded 350 years ago, the Royal Observatory in Greenwich drove our understanding of astronomy, navigation and time. Louise Devoy explores eight milestones in the history of this pioneering scientific institution
The big bang moment 1675: Charles II sparks a star-gazing revolution In the 17th century, the great maritime nations were vying to solve a puzzle that had confounded philosophers for many centuries: how to determine exact positions on the Earth’s surface. And in Britain, Charles II took a major step to ensure his realm’s position at the head of the pack. On 4 March 1675, the king signed a royal warrant appointing John Flamsteed as the first “astronomical observator”, tasked with “perfecting the art of navigation”. Flamsteed’s specific objective was to devise a method by which sailors could establish their longitude (east–west position) at sea – which involved measuring the positions of celestial bodies – and of knowing the time at a ship’s local position. And Flamsteed would get to carry out this vital research from the surroundings of the country’s first state-funded, purpose-built scientific institution: the Royal Observatory. It was urgent work, because England’s great rival, France, had stolen a march: Louis XIV had established an observatory in Paris nearly a decade earlier. Flamsteed was, in effect, playing catch-up. <img src="https://images.immediate.co.uk/production/volatile/sites/7/2025/11/T809MT-CMYKWeb-Ready-7606aa3.jpg" width="2663" height="1775" alt="an illustration showing a large crowd looking at several artefacts including a globe, a map, and a satellite dish" title="King Louis XIV visits the Royal Academy of Sciences in Paris in 1671. The creation of an observatory in the French capital had left England playing catch-up (Image by Alamy)" /> The size of the task facing the astronomer clearly wasn’t lost on Charles II, for the king appointed none other than the celebrated architect Christopher Wren to design the observatory. Wren’s chosen site was the hilltop ruins of Greenwich Castle – and it was here that the foundation stone was laid on 10 August 1675. With its lofty windows, royal portraits and accurate pendulum clocks, the octagonal ‘star chamber’, completed in 1676, was grand in appearance. Unfortunately, it was also unsuitable for mapping the stars, as it was 13.5° askew from the meridian, an imaginary north-south line connecting the poles. So Wren designed another building nearby. This one would last for the remainder of Flamsteed’s tenure, before being demolished, rebuilt and extended as the Meridian Observatory. As for Flamsteed, he went on to conceive Greenwich Mean Time (GMT), by which he produced an average (‘mean’) 24-hour day that could be tracked using a mechanical clock year round. And that would have ramifications across the planet. Read more | A brief history of astronomy Dressed for success 1767: How a man in a padded suit transformed the art of navigation No one could accuse Nevil Maskelyne of not being dedicated to his job. In the dead of night across the mid-1760s, the fifth Astronomer Royal could be found staring up at the sky for hour upon hour, while straining his ears to hear the beats of a nearby clock. Dressed in an extravagant padded suit made from wool, silk and linen, Maskelyne was prepared for all that a British winter could throw at him. Not even perishing temperatures could stand in the way of the task in hand: to devise a ‘lunar distance method’ to calculate longitude at sea. This technique required mariners to measure the angular distance between the moon and a specific star, then compare it to Greenwich time. And they all used data gleaned from Maskelyne’s meticulous study of the movement of the stars. <img src="https://images.immediate.co.uk/production/volatile/sites/7/2025/11/1767-L4962-001-CMYKWeb-Ready-30917ec.jpg" width="1709" height="1139" alt="Astronomer Royal Nevil Maskelyne wore this wool, silk and linen suit to ward off the perishing cold while studying the stars (Image by Royal Museum Greenwich)" title="Astronomer Royal Nevil Maskelyne wore this wool, silk and linen suit to ward off the perishing cold while studying the stars (Image by Royal Museum Greenwich)" /> This was, however, far from a one-man endeavour. Maskelyne was joined on his freezing vigils by his assistant, David Kinnebrook, and enlisted a network of mathematicians – dubbed ‘computers’ – to work remotely on calculating the predicted position of the moon over the year ahead. The Astronomer Royal even had a team of ‘comparers’ check the computers’ work (which paid off when two of them were found to be copying one another’s work). All this enabled Maskelyne to produce the Nautical Almanac, the first edition of which was made available on 6 January 1767. It quickly became an essential tool in navigation, reducing the time taken to make longitude calculations from hours to minutes. Updated annually, the Almanac became a required element of navigators’ training, and set the trend for mariners to calculate their position relative to Greenwich. High standards 1833: A curious metal sphere regulates clocks It can be seen from miles around – and with good reason. Sitting atop the Royal Observatory is a large red, metal ball that rises to the top of a mast at the same time every day, and drops a few minutes later. For those who haven’t set eyes on it before, it makes for a strange sight. But what is it there for? To answer that question, we need to rewind to 1764 when John Harrison, the celebrated English clockmaker, sent his fourth marine timekeeper, later known as ‘H4’, on a trial voyage to Barbados. The clock performed exceptionally well, losing a mere 39.2 seconds over 47 days at sea. To Harrison’s delight, it proved that such devices could provide mariners accurate reference times for calculating longitude. <img src="https://images.immediate.co.uk/production/volatile/sites/7/2025/11/dreamstimexxl73355384-CMYKWeb-Ready-1ba1cb2.jpg" width="6567" height="4378" alt="A photograph of a large red brick building, with a domed roof on the right. There is a tower with a red ball on the top. Behind the building there is a purple and orange cloudy sunset" title="The time ball was installed on the turret of Flamsteed House at the Royal Observatory in 1833. It dropped at 1pm each day, enabling mariners to check their on-board chronometers (Image by Dreamstime)" /> Other clockmakers developed Harrison’s innovative ideas into a standard design that was cheaper and easier to reproduce. By the 1820s, the ‘marine chronometer’ was being used on both commercial and Royal Navy ships. But these chronometers only worked if they were telling the correct time when ships left port. That’s where the Greenwich ‘time ball’ came in. A time ball is a large spherical device that drops at a predetermined time of day, enabling mariners to set their clocks by it. The first modern example of this technology was erected in Portsmouth in 1829. Greenwich’s, however, would be the most famous. It was installed in 1833 on Flamsteed House, at the heart of the Observatory, providing maximum visibility from the Thames. Ever since, it has risen halfway up the mast at 12.55pm, climbed to the top at 12.58pm and then dropped at precisely 1pm GMT. Soon time balls were appearing at harbours and observatories around the globe, meaning that mariners could check their chronometers against accurate clocks, even during the longest of voyages. Timetable drama 1852: Greenwich rides to the railways' rescue Take a stroll down Corn Street in the heart of Bristol and you’ll come across a clock mounted to the wall of the city’s old corn exchange. There’s nothing unusual about that, you may think. But take a closer look and you’ll notice that this elegant 1820s timepiece has two hands for minutes: a red one for GMT and a black one for local Bristol time. The clock is a curious snapshot of a bygone age, and also a marker of a technological conundrum that the Royal Observatory played a central role in solving. The mid-19th century was very much the age of the railways – by the 1840s tracks were snaking across the country. This was all well and good. But when, in 1847, the railway companies decided to coordinate their timetables across Britain using GMT, they ran into a problem. Back then, Britain’s cities relied on local times set by sundials, varying by as much as 30 minutes between west and east. So how could the railway companies ensure that these times were perfectly aligned? <img src="https://images.immediate.co.uk/production/volatile/sites/7/2025/11/GettyImages-170477153-CMYKWeb-Ready-b814769.jpg" width="2589" height="1726" alt="With its three hands, the clock on Bristol’s Corn Exchange offers a snapshot of an age when Britain’s cities relied on a variety of local times (Image by Getty Images)" title="With its three hands, the clock on Bristol’s Corn Exchange offers a snapshot of an age when Britain’s cities relied on a variety of local times (Image by Getty Images)" /> Enter George Biddell Airy, the seventh Astronomer Royal. Airy reasoned that a new technology – that of sending impulses via telegraph wires to a series of synchronised dials – could provide a solution. And so he ordered a new timepiece – the Shepherd Motor Clock – to be installed at the Royal Observatory. From 1852, the clock began sending daily time signals to railway stations across London and Kent, along with hourly signals to the Electric Telegraph Company on London’s Strand for national distribution. Train travel would never be the same again and, by 1880, GMT had been embraced as Britain’s legal Civil Time. Read more | Art, culture and science in the Restoration period A moment in the sun 1874: Greenwich leads the race to record the transit of Venus For astronomers everywhere, 9 December 1874 was like Christmas come early. Star gazers counted down the days to this landmark date, while George Biddell Airy ordered expeditions to Egypt, New Zealand and the Indian Ocean to observe the amazing event unfolding overhead. That event was a transit of Venus, a rare astronomical phenomenon in which the planet appears to cross the Sun as a slow-moving black dot. This was the first time that the transit had occurred since 1769, and the first such event since the invention of photography in the 1820s. Little wonder astronomers were excited. <img src="https://images.immediate.co.uk/production/volatile/sites/7/2025/11/T4323-001-CMYKWeb-Ready-44133fe.jpg" width="5686" height="3790" alt="An observation hut is set up in Greenwich ahead of the transit of Venus in 1874. This astronomical phenomenon enabled star-gazers to accurately calculate the Sun-Earth distance (Image by Royal Museum Greenwich)" title="An observation hut is set up in Greenwich ahead of the transit of Venus in 1874. This astronomical phenomenon enabled star-gazers to accurately calculate the Sun-Earth distance (Image by Royal Museum Greenwich)" /> And their excitement was justified. By timing the transit’s key moments as seen from different locations on Earth, star gazers can measure the Sun–Earth distance, known as the ‘astronomical unit’. This yardstick (just under 93 million miles) is still used by scientists today. Ahead of the 1874 transit, Airy ordered special telescopes known as photoheliographs to project the Sun’s disc onto glass plates. However, his teams struggled with the kit, and the photoheliographs failed to capture the transit with any great accuracy. Despite those issues, the transit of Venus inspired a renewed interest in sun studies. Greenwich assistant EW Maunder started to compile a daily record of sunspot observations. In 1904, Maunder and his wife, Annie, assembled 30 years of sunspot data into the ‘butterfly diagram’ that still underpins our understanding of the Sun’s 11-year magnetic cycle. A degree of certainty 1884: The world aligns itself to Greenwich John Flamsteed had been dead for more than a century. Yet, on 13 October 1884, his great brainchild, Greenwich Mean Time, truly went global. On that day, delegates at the International Meridian Conference in Washington, DC voted in favour of making Greenwich the world’s prime meridian, or 0° longitude. The decision was influenced by a combination of technological supremacy and pragmatism. Greenwich was one of only four observatories with a suitably accurate telescope – the Airy Transit Circle Telescope – to define a meridian. And more than 70 per cent of shipping companies by tonnage already relied on the Greenwich meridian. <img src="https://images.immediate.co.uk/production/volatile/sites/7/2025/11/2YXWWWX-CMYKWeb-Ready-602ff19.jpg" width="3242" height="2161" alt="Delegates at the 1884 International Meridian Conference agreed to use the Greenwich meridian as 0° longitude (Image by Alamy)" title="Delegates at the 1884 International Meridian Conference agreed to use the Greenwich meridian as 0° longitude (Image by Alamy)" /> The delegates also agreed that the Universal Day – a 24-hour period to be used as a common reference to record events around the world – should begin at midnight GMT on the Greenwich meridian. This would hardly have come as a surprise: a year earlier, railroads in the US had already agreed to use standard time zones based on hourly meridians from Greenwich. The delegates assembled in the American capital that October day voted overwhelmingly in favour of the Universal Day, and countries started to define their own standard time zones as hourly intervals before or after Greenwich. The result was the familiar time-zone system we use today. Seeing double 1893: The Royal Observatory makes its biggest statement yet Was Greenwich under threat? The International Meridian Conference of 1884 might have confirmed the Royal Observatory’s primacy in the world of astronomy. But, within a year, the eighth Astronomer Royal, William Christie, was voicing his concerns that the principal telescope at Greenwich was being overtaken by newer, better instruments at rival observatories across Europe and North America. Determined to keep Greenwich out in front of the chasing pack, Christie persuaded the Admiralty to fund a new instrument, and that 28-inch diameter lens telescope – still the largest of its type in Britain – came into use in 1893. Most other telescopes at Greenwich were designed to be fixed into position to ensure the accurate measurement of the stars for timekeeping and navigation. The Great Equatorial Telescope – named after its mount, which kept the instrument moving parallel to the Earth’s equator – was part of a new generation designed for astrophotography. With a clockwork drive that kept the instrument moving in sync with the stars from east to west, it could be used to take photos with very long exposures stretching to several hours, capturing impressive views of faint gas clouds (nebulae). However, astronomers struggled to configure the heavy glass lens for photography, and so the telescope was reassigned to the study of double stars. By measuring the changing angle between an orbiting pair of stars, the astronomers could now calculate the mass of these distant suns. All that came to an end in 1971 when the Great Equatorial Telescope was finally retired. However, you can still see this extraordinary instrument – housed in its distinctive onion-shaped dome – at Greenwich today. Read more | A brief history of daylight saving time Pip pip hooray 1924: GMT is piped into homes across Britain If we want to know the time in 2025, all we have to do is check the phone in our pocket, or glance at the digital watch on our wrists. Across most of the 20th century, of course, that wasn’t an option. If Britons sought an accurate time-check that they could, quite literally, set their clocks and watches by, then they had to turn on their radios and listen out for the familiar strains of the ‘six pips’. The six pips first entered the public consciousness on 5 February 1924, when the ninth Astronomer Royal, Frank Dyson (below), announced a collaboration with the BBC. The Royal Observatory would start sending electrical impulses down a telephone wire to the newly created broadcaster. These would then be converted into a series of six audio alerts – or ‘pips’ – that would go out on the radio on the hour, every hour. But while some technologies were underscoring Greenwich’s enduring relevance, others were undermining it. In the 1930s, scientists developed clocks based on the natural vibration of quartz crystals; then, a decade later, the first atomic timekeepers began to appear. Both offered reliability and accuracy that the system of measuring time by the stars couldn’t match. This wasn’t the only threat to the Royal Observatory’s pre-eminence in the 20th century. As the march of industry impacted visibility across London’s skies, so Greenwich’s suitability for the practice of astrophysics declined. Soon it became clear that the Observatory would have to move. And it did so twice – first to East Sussex in 1957; then to Cambridge in 1990. Eight years later, it shut altogether. Time had finally caught up with the great old scientific institution. But its huge contribution to the fields of astronomy, timekeeping and navigation cannot be doubted – as the many thousands of people who visit the Royal Observatory museum that now occupies the famous Greenwich complex will no doubt testify. John Flamsteed would surely be proud. Dr Louise Devoy is senior curator at the Royal Observatory and author of Royal Observatory Greenwich: A History in Objects (October, 2025) This article was first published in the November 2025 issue of BBC History Magazine
Did Hitler have a secret Jewish grandfather? Our DNA research has solved the mystery
Geneticist Turi King and historian Alex J Kay are in the spotlight after their research into Hitler’s DNA was featured in a new Channel 4 series. Shortly after the first episode aired, Matt Elton spoke to them about the complex ethical dimensions of this work and some of the stunning revelations that have emerged from it
Matt Elton, HistoryExtra: How did you get involved in this project and did you have any concerns? Alex J Kay: I got involved in the project in March 2023. I was contacted by Dan Chambers from Blink Films, who had already been working on this project for quite some time. I knew that Turi was already involved and they were looking for a lead historian for the programme. My big concern – because there’s so much out there about Hitler, so many documentaries, so many studies, so many books – was that this was going to be done in a serious way. Not sensationally, but really following the science, and very much based on research and evidence. Everybody who was involved with the project was clearly following science and really wanted to do a good job, and make sure it was as ironclad as possible in terms of the research and the evidence, so that reassured me. Turi King: I was brought on almost exactly four years ago. My first question was around not wanting to be involved if this was going to be done in a sensationalist way. And I did agonise [over doing it] because of who it is. But then, as an ancient DNA specialist, there have been thousands of individuals, archaeological and historical specimens, who have had their whole genome sequenced – including Beethoven. And I was thinking: “Well, why should Hitler be seen as this kind of mystical figure whom we could never do this DNA analysis on? And who is it who makes those kinds of decisions?” As Alex has said, Hitler has been the subject of so many books and articles and television programmes and so on, but this would add a new layer of information that hasn’t been available before. The other thing was that, because the swatch [a small sample of material] was being made available for DNA analysis, somebody was going to do this at some point, so let’s make sure it’s done in an absolutely rigorous way. My first question was: “Is this actually Hitler’s DNA?” My first role in this was to go through the entire process around authenticating the DNA. So let’s talk about the swatch you mentioned there. Alex, can you talk about the final days of Hitler’s life and how they enabled the specific set of circumstances that allowed this research to happen? AJK: Hitler spent the last weeks of his life in his Berlin bunker virtually the entire time, only occasionally going up into the garden of the Reich Chancellery building. By [April] the Soviets were attacking the city. The Red Army had already entered Berlin and was fighting its way to the city centre, where the government headquarters were and where Nazi power was based – and of course Hitler’s bunker as well. At some point, Hitler realised the war was definitively lost and the Soviets would reach him within a matter of days. He took the decision to take his own life, which we know from eyewitness accounts he did by shooting himself, in his study on the now notorious sofa. It’s from this sofa that the piece of fabric was taken with the blood sample. Who took the sample from the sofa? And why? TK: So this was Colonel Roswell P Rosengren, who was a public information officer for Eisenhower during the war. The Red Army was in charge and apparently very few people were allowed to go into the bunker, but he was one of them. This was where Hitler had killed himself – so they got into the bunker and essentially started taking souvenirs. Rosengren cut a sample out of the sofa and took a swatch away – which, rather crucially, had blood on it from where Hitler killed himself. <img src="https://images.immediate.co.uk/production/volatile/sites/7/2025/11/15-COL.-ROSWELL-P.-ROSENGREN-Credit-Erik-Rosengren--cdabc52.jpeg" width="4688" height="5800" alt="Colonel Roswell P Rosengren, who entered the Führerbunker after Hitler’s death, and cut out the sofa sample that would go on to be used to test his DNA (Image by Erik Rosengren)" title="Colonel Roswell P Rosengren, who entered the Führerbunker after Hitler’s death, and cut out the sofa sample that would go on to be used to test his DNA (Image by Erik Rosengren)" /> Did he have any idea that it was likely to be Hitler’s blood? TK: You would have to ask his family, but my understanding is that yes [he did]. The swatch was then brought back to the US and kept in the family for several decades. It was then passed down to his son, whom I had the pleasure of talking to, and who knew the entire story about how it had been brought into the family. Then, [in 2014] it was sold to the Gettysburg Museum of History. It was the museum that had been offering it for DNA analysis. Why has all this happened now given that that sample was in this museum all this time? TK: I think part of it [is a result of] genetic technology and what’s become available over the past 10–20 years. We are now able to do more and more in terms of sequencing. The field of ancient and historical DNA has really taken off, and we now have the ability to do this sort of work, which is why everything’s come together to make this happen. Read more | “We analysed Hitler’s DNA – and what we discovered made us gasp” There were multiple objections from European institutions because they were uncomfortable with testing Hitler’s DNA. Did that cause you any concerns? TK: Certain labs would have a think about it. They might go to their boards and they would say, “No, we don’t feel comfortable with doing this.” I’m Canadian and I have a lot of colleagues in the US, and I think for us the shadow of Hitler doesn’t feel as close as it must do to people here. That’s to do with geographical distance. In the end, the two labs that did the sequencing – because you want the sequencing done in two separate labs to make sure you’re getting the same results in both labs – are both in the US, where the sample is. AJK: I wasn’t entirely surprised when I was told that a number of European labs had decided not to get involved. I’m based in Germany, and there is a lot of awareness of the long shadow that Hitler still casts here, even 80 years after his death. There’s a great reluctance to get involved with anything that could be used for sensationalist purposes or where somebody could distort the facts. TK: One of the things that’s been really difficult about this project is trying to work to get an academic paper and the documentary to go out at the same time. It’s something over which I have no control, but there is an academic paper that I’m hoping will be able to come out in the next few weeks. That was one of the other things that I said when I first got involved: that there had to be an academic paper as well, it couldn’t just be a documentary. <img src="https://images.immediate.co.uk/production/volatile/sites/7/2025/11/12-Taking-of-Sample-Credit-Blink-Films--08cb285.jpg" width="1915" height="815" alt="A pair of hands in purple gloves hold two small tools and work on a ripped cloth sample on a table" title="The sofa sample is tested in a lab. Alex J Kay and Turi King were both keen that this investigation was rigorous and not sensationalist. “There had to be an academic paper as well, it couldn’t just be a documentary”, says Turi (Image by Blink Films)" /> How did you determine whether the sample that was taken stood up to scrutiny? TK: This is where I always say it’s incredibly important that you don’t just use genetic data on its own, you link it with the historical information. My first question was, “What’s the provenance of this sample?” And actually, if you have a look at the photos of the sofa from the time period and then you look at the swatch, there’s a very distinctive pattern and those match. So that’s another tick we could put into the box. The other thing we could then do is genetic analysis. But there were no very close relatives that you could use for doing DNA testing and comparing against, such as you would do in a forensic case – a parent or a sibling or a child. They don’t exist because Hitler didn’t have any children. There are no close relatives who are alive today. This is where I got interested in a piece of DNA known as the Y chromosome, a segment of DNA that’s just passed down through the male line. So if there’s a male-line relative of Hitler, then you can look at the Y chromosome that’s coming back from the DNA, from the blood, and see if that matches a male-line relative. There was a study that had been done by Jean-Paul Mulders and Marc Vermeeren. They had tracked down quite distant members of the Hitler family, male-line members, including one who had given a DNA sample. The data from that was made available. We could then do an analysis of the Y chromosome and there was a perfect match between them. The next thing you have to ask as a geneticist is, “Okay, but how common is this Y chromosome type?” And, actually, it’s incredibly rare, not found in the Y chromosome forensic database. Even then, because we were being careful as we went, we wanted to know how common it is in Europe, let alone worldwide. There were no hits, so we could therefore say: “Yes, it’s a rare Y chromosome type.” And then we had to ask: “What is the likelihood that a close male-line relative of Hitler would have managed to get himself into the bunker, over to that sofa and bleed on it?” This is where Alex is great because I can turn to him and ask: “So what do we know about close male line relatives?” Once we can rule out all of these possibilities, it becomes vanishingly unlikely that this is not Hitler’s DNA. AJK: Hitler had very few close male-line relatives. He had no surviving brothers, for example, and lost four of his five siblings during his childhood. The only other surviving child was his sister, Paula. He did have a half-brother from his father’s previous marriage. However, I was able to determine that his half-brother at the end of the war was in Hamburg, not Berlin, so that ruled him out. This half-brother had two sons. One of those sons, however, had been killed in combat during the Second World War. So he was no longer alive in 1945, and the other son had actually emigrated and wasn’t even in the country. So we were able to rule out in this way that any other close male relative of Hitler’s could have been anywhere near the bunker in April 1945. Read more | “We need to understand the Nazis as human beings”: Richard J Evans on the motivations of Hitler’s followers Once you had started to become convinced that this might actually be Hitler’s DNA, what did that feel like? TK: That was a bit of a moment because you can go: “Okay, great, we can be confident that we’ve got Hitler’s DNA.” The next stage then is to do the whole genome sequencing. But the thing about that was we genuinely had no idea what we would find. As a geneticist, you think: “Well, possibly he has a very boring genome where he has a slight genetic predisposition towards something like coronary heart disease.” We didn’t know at all what we were going to find. Just before we get into what you found, what happened to Hitler’s body? AJK: Hitler’s body was burnt. He gave very explicit instructions to some of his members of staff who were still in the bunker for his body to be doused in petrol and burnt so that no remains were left. Hitler was very concerned that he would fall into the hands of the Soviets, dead or alive. Stories had been told to him about Mussolini’s death. Mussolini had been killed by Italian partisans and his corpse had then been strung up in a city square and abused by people – spat on and hit. Hitler wanted to avoid this demeaning fate, so he gave his members of staff in the bunker explicit instructions to get rid of his body, to destroy it completely. This didn’t happen: there were attempts made and the body was partially burnt, but not completely. Some bones did survive and the Soviets had access to those, but there was no body to speak of. How big a factor is the degradation that happens to a sample such as this over time, and does it affect the validity of the results in any way? TK: That’s a good question. One of the things I was actually looking [into] as part of the authentication processes was whether the DNA looks like it’s degraded. If it was a hoax, first of all, you wouldn’t get a DNA match but, secondly, the DNA would look quite different. While we’re alive we actually have really lovely long strands of DNA. And we do have things that come along and ‘nick’ it, but our body has mechanisms for fixing those DNA strands back together again. After death, that doesn’t happen. The DNA ends up in shorter and shorter strands, until there’s nothing left to sequence and the DNA is quite damaged. People often have this idea that there is a time factor in terms of how long it would be that we are able to obtain DNA. It’s actually time, but also the conditions under which the sample has been kept. Cold and dry is best for preserving DNA, which is why you can have some samples that are only a few years old but, if they’ve been kept in warm and damp conditions, you can’t get DNA out of them. But with other samples, people have managed to get nearly 2 million-year-old DNA out of permafrost. It was one of those things that, until we started the project and started having a look, we didn’t know quite whether or not the sample would be usable. The DNA is degraded, as would be expected, but we’ve got enough sequencing from two separate labs to get enough ‘coverage’ of the genome so that we can have a look at it. There are still gaps, but there’s enough that we can still do the analysis that we’ve been doing. A key thing is that, when we started this project, it was very important to say – and still to say – that nothing that we could ever find in Hitler’s DNA would excuse what he did. If I can get that message across, I think that’s super-important because no matter what we found, it doesn’t excuse what Hitler did in his lifetime. <img src="https://images.immediate.co.uk/production/volatile/sites/7/2025/11/GettyImages-2696366-e250414.jpg" width="2766" height="3910" alt="Corporal Adolf Hitler (right) in a military hospital during WW1. “We’ve got to keep in mind that genetics is only one small piece of the puzzle,” says Alex J Kay. “Hitler was very much a product of his times”" title="Corporal Adolf Hitler (right) in a military hospital during WW1. “We’ve got to keep in mind that genetics is only one small piece of the puzzle,” says Alex J Kay. “Hitler was very much a product of his times”" /> AJK: We’ve got to keep in mind that genetics, as Turi has just said, is only one small piece of the puzzle. Hitler was very much a product of his times, of the First World War and postwar revolution in Germany. He was a product of a particular political radicalisation that took place in Germany in the 1920s. He was also the product of a traumatic childhood, losing four of his five siblings and both his parents by the age of 19. We have to keep in mind all of these factors when trying to understand the man Hitler became, and how it was possible for him to do what he did – and also in assessing how important these genetic findings are in the bigger picture. We’ve also got to emphasise that Hitler was a central figure in what then happened in the Second World War, and in the Holocaust, but he was only one man. There were hundreds of thousands of German and Austrian perpetrators [and other collaborators] who committed the most horrific crimes. There were many millions of people who followed Hitler and profited from the Nazi regime. We can’t explain what happened just by looking at Hitler and certainly not just by looking at Hitler’s genes. Read more | The final mystery of Richard III: how 21st-century science cracked a 500-year-old cold case One of the claims the programme specifically debunks is the idea that Hitler might have had Jewish heritage. How did you go into looking into this and how specifically did you debunk it? TK: I’m going to let Alex talk about the history here, but I can give you the genetics. So essentially my understanding is that there were queries about who Hitler’s paternal grandfather was. The story is that Hitler’s paternal grandfather wasn’t actually from the Hitler family and might have been Jewish because Hitler’s paternal grandmother was working in the house of a Jewish family at the time. The fact that we have a Y chromosome match between the blood and a distant male-line member of the Hitler family shows that Hitler’s grandfather was indeed from the Hitler family. AJK: Rumours that Hitler might have had some Jewish ancestry have been around for the best part of a century. They were already circulating in the 1920s. Some people believed that his paternal grandmother, Maria Anna Schicklgruber, who had worked for a period of time in a Jewish household, had become pregnant as a result of that. The foreign press got hold of these rumours and made a lot out of them. It’s very important that we’ve been able to debunk that, because this has been something that both scholars and the general public alike have been very interested in – understandably, because of Hitler’s rabid antisemitism and his crucial role in the extermination of 6 million European Jews. There’s no truth in the rumours. Hitler did not have Jewish ancestry. Work also began on sequencing the entire genome of Hitler’s DNA. Before we talk about the potential this has for revealing new information about Hitler’s health, where do we need to be cautious when we’re talking about this kind of research? TK: I think a genetics lesson here is important because, when you’re looking for a genetic predisposition towards particular health conditions, there are two types of health condition that you can look at. There are particular health conditions where we know it goes back to a single gene, so if something is wrong with a particular gene, you will develop this condition. And then there are other conditions where we know it’s both polygenic, meaning many genes, and also multifactorial. So genetics is just a component of the condition, but there are all kinds of other factors that are involved. You could be genetically predisposed towards heart disease, for example. If you are being healthy, eating well and exercising, you’re less likely to go on to develop this than if you are sedentary, and you’re sitting on the sofa and you’re eating doughnuts all day. With things like smoking, chemical factors come into it, too, and we know that smoking makes you more likely to develop lung cancer, for example. So when we were looking at these two particular types of conditions, what we were doing with Hitler’s DNA was, firstly, running it through standard NHS ‘pipelines’. But also, because there have been so many medical biographers over the past [few] years and also during his lifetime who had suggested particular conditions, we did send the DNA to experts in particular fields to ask “Is there anything here that stands out to you?” This is where colleagues at the Pasteur Institute found there’s a deletion [a type of mutation where a part of a chromosome or a segment of DNA is lost] in a gene known as PROK 2, which is strongly associated with Kallmann syndrome, which has implications for testosterone levels and the development of sexual organs. <img src="https://images.immediate.co.uk/production/volatile/sites/7/2025/11/09-DNA-structure-Credit-Blink-Films-ca2cd88.jpg" width="1860" height="818" alt="The structure of a DNA strand. Expert testing shows that Hitler had a PROK 2 deletion, strongly associated with Kallmann syndrome (Image by Blink Films)" title="The structure of a DNA strand. Expert testing shows that Hitler had a PROK 2 deletion, strongly associated with Kallmann syndrome (Image by Blink Films)" /> We also found that Hitler was in the top 1 per cent for polygenic scores for schizophrenia, bipolar and autism. It’s probably a good idea that I give a quick explanation about how polygenic scores work. So this is where geneticists say: “Right, we’ve got all of these people over here with this particular condition. What are the genetic variants that they seem to have in common with one another that these people over here without the condition don’t seem to have, or have at much lower frequencies?” What you can then do is take somebody’s DNA and ask: “Well, where do they sit on this particular distribution?” This was work done by the IPSYCH team in Denmark. And this is where Hitler came in as being in the top 1 per cent for these three particular conditions – and that is incredibly rare. This is one of the areas in which the documentary enters into territory where we need to be careful about what we’re talking about. Did either of you have concerns about making connections between Hitler and specific conditions, however delicately phrased and couched? TK: That’s really important. In the documentary, what we do is we put all of the caveats in: we do talk about how this is not diagnostic just because he’s getting these scores. It is talking about a genetic predisposition, and you can’t run a straight line from this particular polygenic score to him being diagnosed with this particular condition. The other thing that’s very important to say is that it’s incredibly rare for people with these conditions to go on to commit violent acts, let alone genocide. They’re more likely to be on the receiving end of violence. And as Alex was saying, Hitler was not active on his own. There were hundreds of thousands of people who were helping him. They’re not all going to have the same genetic makeup as one another. These caveats are really important to put out there. In the documentary, we’re clear we cannot say that he had any of these particular conditions, but there is a genetic predisposition towards them. AJK: As a historian, I would say we have to approach this research like we would approach any other historical source, namely with care. We have to double-check it. We have to compare it against other sources of information, other evidence that we have, other things that we know. That would be the first step in any approach in dealing with this. And in this case, as Turi has already wonderfully explained, this is an indication of predisposition. We do not know whether Hitler had any of these conditions. And therefore for me, the finding, while fascinating, is less important than the findings on potential Jewish ancestry – because we now know something definite, whereas with the polygenic scores the findings are merely an indication. I do think it’s striking, as Turi has said, that Hitler had this top 1 per cent predisposition in all three of these categories, but we’re not saying, “Oh, look, Hitler might have had one of these conditions” – it’s actually that he’s in the top 1 per cent for all three. Potentially, this kind of explosive mix makes it quite a quite remarkable finding, but it’s not proof of anything yet because it’s just an indication. I would also say that we’re talking a lot about what responsibilities the makers of the programme have and the people involved in it. Both Turi and I, and everybody else involved in the programme, take these responsibilities very seriously. I also think, by the same token, that anybody watching this documentary and then commenting on it, particularly journalists reporting on it, equally has a responsibility to report on it in a serious way and to place it in context – not to emphasise one particular aspect to the exclusion of everything else, not to remove all the caveats that we have put in. That responsibility works both ways. During the media frenzy of the past few days, and when some journalists have emphasised certain findings of the programme or certain indications in the programme to the exclusion of others, or when people have talked about the risk of stigmatisation, I have asked myself: “Would some people have preferred us not to reveal certain findings, just to reveal some findings but hold back other findings?” Surely, if we’d done that and it had come out at some point in the future, that would’ve been a good reason to reproach us? <img src="https://images.immediate.co.uk/production/volatile/sites/7/2025/11/14-Hitler-Credit-BAYERISCHE-STAATSBIBLIOTHEK-8fabb60.jpg" width="3998" height="2641" alt="Hitler, dressed in a long overcoat and a cap, looks out over the sea" title="The DNA testing revealed that “there is a genetic predisposition towards” Hitler having schizophrenia, bipolar and autism, but there can be no direct diagnoses from these findings (Image by BAYERISCHE STAATSBIBLIOTHEK)" /> TK: Just to echo what Alex has said, it’s been really interesting to see how some of the journalism has gone. You know, they haven’t bothered to take on board everything that Alex and I talk about, about how it’s so important that you take this in the context of what we know about DNA and in the context of the historical setting for all of this. And also to echo that our role is to lay out what we have found, and to put in all of the caveats about what we can and cannot say. But again, as Alex was saying, if we held back information, that would be seen as kind of gatekeeping and elitist, and I would not feel comfortable with that. I think it would be inappropriate to withhold information. Among the research findings is the fact that Hitler’s DNA bears evidence of a genetic mutation that in some cases can result in abnormalities, including a micro-penis. Lots of the more salacious reporting has focused on this. Given that, do you have any regrets about its inclusion and the fact it’s overshadowed the rest of the research? TK: In the documentary and in the academic paper, we talk about how the DNA cannot tell us what Hitler’s genitalia looked like. All we can do is report that [a micropenis] is known to be strongly associated with Kallmann syndrome. He will have had some form of Kallmann syndrome. These are various phenotypes, or ways in which the condition manifests itself in somebody. All we can do, again, is put the caveats in. And this is where Alex’s work is really important, because there are historical documents around what we already know about Hitler’s genitalia. It’s when you put the genetics and the history together that you get a better understanding of all this. Read more | Simon Schama on British history if Hitler had beaten Churchill: "The Holocaust would have happened here" AJK: It was slightly predictable, the way that some newspapers and some media outlets have reported on this. For me, it’s not particularly interesting what Hitler’s genitalia looked like. What is interesting is the discovery that he had Kallmann syndrome, which is a genetic disorder. It actually explains a lot about Hitler’s private life – or, more accurately, his lack of a private life, because Kallmann is associated with low testosterone levels, low sex drive, and it impacts on the development of the reproductive features and the reproductive functions. It tells us a lot about how Hitler [might have] felt about intimate relationships, how he felt about himself, his level of self-consciousness, and thereby goes some way to explaining why he devoted himself completely to politics, to the exclusion of any kind of private life or relationships. Hitler is obviously not the only political figure to have foregone intimate relationships or sexual relationships or romantic relationships. But if we compare him to all the other leading Nazi figures, he is the outlier. All the other senior Nazis had wives, had children, often had extramarital affairs. So Hitler is unique in that respect and historians have puzzled over why this was for a long time. And I think this finding of Kallmann syndrome is really very significant and striking because it adds that final piece of the puzzle in explaining why Hitler basically didn’t have a private life. So as a historian, you do think there are real findings here that help explain Hitler’s personality and even his actions? AJK: Absolutely. Now they don’t explain all of his actions by any stretch. We talked earlier about environmental and social factors, the context of the times in which Hitler lived and his childhood experiences. All of those factors are equally, if not more, important than any genetic findings. However, these genetic findings contribute to our understanding of Hitler and why he behaved in certain ways. <img src="https://images.immediate.co.uk/production/volatile/sites/7/2025/11/GettyImages-514704098-6f0fed0.jpg" width="3164" height="2641" alt="A black and white photo of a group of men in Nazi uniform walking down a set of steps. In the centre of the image is a young woman in a long black coat with 8 buttons down the front" title="Adolf Hitler pictured with Eva Braun, whom he met in 1929. Eyewitness testimony suggests the couple’s relationship was platonic, says Alex J Kay (Image by Getty Images)" /> Hitler did have a relationship with Eva Braun. Do the findings shed any new light on that particular relationship? AJK: Not specifically about that relationship as such, but it tallies with what we know about that relationship. Everything we know suggests that Hitler and Eva Braun were companions as much as anything else. We have numerous eyewitness statements from people who were close to them, from people who spent a lot of time with them. Hitler’s caretaker of eight years at the Berghof, his mountain retreat, Herbert Döhring, said there was never any evidence that Hitler and Eva Braun had sex. Christa Schroeder was one of Hitler’s secretaries for 12 years. She said exactly the same. Heinrich Hoffmann, who was the photographer who introduced Hitler and Eva Braun in the first place, said their relationship was always platonic. We also know they didn’t share a bedroom, either at the Berghof, in Hitler’s bunker in the final weeks of the war, or in Hitler’s suite of rooms at the Reich Chancellery in Berlin. They always had separate rooms, so everything points to this having been a platonic relationship and not a sexual relationship. One of the experts featured in the documentary is Professor Simon Baron-Cohen, who’s director of the Autism Research Centre at Cambridge University. He says: “The experience of neglect and abuse” – which you have talked about, Alex, in Hitler’s childhood – “is much more relevant to understanding why someone grows up with hate and anger rather than the genetics – the two interplay.” I wondered if either of you had anything you’d like to add to that? TK: As a geneticist, I’m the first person to say that genetics is just a part of the puzzle of who somebody is. This is where, again, it’s marrying genetics up with the history when we talk about what appears to be a genetic predisposition. We’ve got to set that really in the context of who was this individual? How did he grow up? What was the time that he was growing up in? The genetics is only going to give you a very small part of who somebody is and goes on to become. AJK: Simon Baron-Cohen is obviously in a much better position to comment on the relative importance or impact of genetics versus upbringing or childhood. However, I would be inclined overall to agree with him that environmental and social factors, particularly neglect and abuse during childhood, have a huge impact on the adult that a person becomes. And therefore, as I said earlier, these are at least as important as genetic factors – and I would be inclined to say more important. As we’ve been stressing, the genetics is only a part of the jigsaw puzzle, and doesn’t explain and cannot explain everything. <img src="https://images.immediate.co.uk/production/volatile/sites/7/2025/11/17-Hitler-as-a-Child-Credit-NARA-c1e5ebb.jpg" width="1896" height="816" alt="A black and white photo of a young boy wearing a dark jacket and light shirt. He is looking seriously at the camera" title="Hitler as a child. It’s likely that abuse suffered by Hitler during his childhood greatly contributed to his character later in life (Image by NARA)" /> We are talking in the middle of a week where you’ve been at the centre of a media storm. Has the backlash in some quarters been along the lines of what you expected or has anything here come as a surprise? TK: I don’t want to speak for Alex, but we knew it was going to be controversial. For me, the most important thing to do is to say: “This is what the DNA can say, this is what the DNA cannot say.” We knew that some parts of the media were not going to listen to that, but all we can do as scientists is just keep the guardrails in about what we can and cannot say from somebody’s DNA. Again, it’s also placing all of this within the historical context. AJK: I think we did anticipate this would be big. This is a major project. It’s a world-first analysis of Hitler’s DNA, right? We all knew it would be controversial because of who this is. That’s perfectly understandable. I think we all also expected some dissenting voices. I personally have been a little surprised at just how huge it’s been and how global the response has been in the media. I wasn’t entirely expecting this magnitude of response. TK: I think it goes back to what Alex was saying about a responsibility in the media to report accurately. And while we knew that some people were not going to do this, in some ways the magnitude of how it’s been portrayed was something that I don’t think any of us were quite expecting. <img src="https://images.immediate.co.uk/production/volatile/sites/7/2025/11/22-Hitler-General-Credit-BUNDESARCHIV-f932c12.jpg" width="1736" height="820" alt="A close up photograph of Hitler, with a short black moustache and a very serious expression on his face" title="According to Turi King, DNA testing like this provides “another layer of information” for historians to use to understand Hitler further (Image by BUNDESARCHIV)" /> What do you hope is the next stage for our understanding about Hitler and the period of history in which he was part? TK: From a geneticist’s point of view, we have done this analysis. I keep coming back to the guardrails about what DNA can and cannot say, and context. It’s another layer of information that historians such as Alex can draw on in terms of how they understand Hitler. AJK: I’m still trying to digest the reactions to this step in our attempts to understand Hitler. I think I say somewhere in the documentary that this will change the way we think about Hitler in the future and that we’ll be talking about it for a long time. I stand by that. I do think that it has added very significant new information and added a new layer of understanding. I don’t know if this is realistic, but I would actually hope that maybe in the future we can treat Hitler a little bit less like a mythical figure or a monster, although he was certainly guilty of monstrous acts, and instead try to understand how a human being can get to the point where they do this kind of thing. I’ve always been a little bit concerned when people dismiss Hitler and the Nazis as monsters, because if we dismiss somebody as a monster then we’re not obliged to explain them or understand how they could commit the acts they committed. But the scary fact of the matter is that Hitler was a human being and all of those hundreds of thousands of Nazi perpetrators who did monstrous, horrific things were human beings. So sadly, we need to understand how this was possible. Turi King is the lead geneticist on the research into Hitler’s DNA. Alex J Kay is a historian specialising in Nazi Germany. Their groundbreaking work is covered in the two-part Channel 4 and Blink Films documentary Hitler’s DNA: Blueprint of a Dictator
The place where TIME began | A history of GMT
On location at Royal Observatory, Greenwich in southeast London, HistoryExtra's Elinor Evans unpacks how astronomers, mathematicians, and global powers collaborated to create Greenwich Mean Time (GMT).
Long before smartphones and digital clocks, time was a local affair, creating chaos, confusion and even danger. On location at Royal Observatory, Greenwich in southeast London, HistoryExtra's Elinor Evans unpacks how astronomers, mathematicians, and global powers collaborated to create Greenwich Mean Time (GMT). Joined by Louise Devoy, Senior Curator of the Royal Observatory, Greenwich, we investigate the milestone innovations in this story, including the story of the Observatory Time Ball, the Shepherd Motor Clock, and George Biddell Airy's meridian Prime Meridian. From solving longitude at sea to defining timezones for the entire planet, this is the story of how we learned to master time. View Green Video on the source website Find out more about the history of time, space and navigation and plan a visit to the Royal Observatory
The first king of the English can teach us valuable lessons about how to navigate a world revolutionised by AI, says Professor David Woodman
Are we losing the need to learn? That’s one of the things that people are worrying about with the advent of AI. Feels like a fair concern to me. Rather than learning something yourself, you can ask AI to tell you the answer, translate something for you, tell you how to fix something, even transcribe a medieval manuscript, if that’s your bag. It’s all a bit too easy, isn’t it, and humans, like water, tend to seek out the easiest route, the path of least resistance. So that’s potentially a pretty big problem. If we don’t need to learn, will we bother to learn, and if we don’t bother to learn, are our minds going to atrophy? Academics talk about ‘digital dementia’, and researchers are looking at whether AI is going to cause a general downturn in our cognitive abilities. Unless something changes, and with AI’s rapid development, chances are that we won’t actually need to learn in the future, or at least not in the same way that we do today. So maybe we need to learn to love learning, if we’re going to avoid falling victim to brain rot. And that, perhaps surprisingly, is where Æthelstan, first king of England, comes into the mix. Creator of the kingdom Æthelstan, to remind you, was the grandson of King Alfred the Great, son of King Edward the Elder. Crowned in 925 in Kingston-upon-Thames (an event marked to this day by a tooth-shaped stone ringed by Victorian railings on the side of the road), Æthelstan went on to create the kingdom of England as we recognise it today. Famously he won a substantial victory over an alliance of his adversaries at the battle of Brunanburh in the year 937. Read more | King Æthelstan: England's colossus Professor David Woodman, from Cambridge University, is Æthelstan’s most recent biographer, and he is a keen observer of the apparently contradictory sides of the character of the man: “One of the great paradoxes of early medieval history is that Æthelstan absolutely was a great military figure. He was somebody who secured his position by military victories. He had to put down various coalitions that rose against him. But simultaneously he was somebody who had a very keen sense of the importance of learning and sponsoring reading.” <img src="https://images.immediate.co.uk/production/volatile/sites/7/2025/09/2WE1KADbattle-218bf1c.jpg" width="1648" height="1214" alt="A black and white painting showing a large battle scene, with hundreds of soldiers fighting on foot and horseback. In the background, there are cliffs and three ships on the sea" title="A 20th-century depiction of the great battle of Brunanburh in 937, which was a turning point in the creation of English national identity (Image by Alamy)" /> Æthelstan encouraged scholars to come to his court, and he also facilitated the exchange of texts and learning between these visitors. He probably took inspiration from his grandfather in this, because Alfred sponsored a rejuvenation of learning, in the 880s when he was less occupied by Viking raids. Following Alfred’s lead, Æthelstan ran with this love of learning. He drove for even mundane documents to be dressed up in learned language, as an ostentatious demonstration of the scholarly nature of his court. The diplomas that were issued in his name were works of literary scholarship, which demanded the attention of the reader. “In order to understand the brilliance of these diplomas, you have to do a very close reading of them today, where you uncover the literary allusions. We have allusions to seventh-century works by Aldhelm of Malmesbury, for example, embedded in these works,” says David. “Now, you can imagine that for your average nobleman sitting at a meeting of the royal assembly of Æthelstan, these allusions probably would have been lost on that person. They wouldn’t have been able to understand them. And in fact, maybe they thought, oh no, not another long turgid Latin diploma of the royal scribe being trotted out. And in a way that’s the point. I think they were designed to impress. They were designed to show the advances that were taking place.” So, according to David, we need to see Æthelstan as a real lover of learning, and an advocate of a learned culture among his courtiers. That’s a powerful statement by a powerful figure. He even seems to have had an allegorical board game, the Gospel Dice, which might have allowed players to study the Gospels in an innovative way. In modern terms, we might call that a gamified learning experience. <img src="https://images.immediate.co.uk/production/volatile/sites/7/2025/09/2B8GMG2-1a48607.jpg" width="1155" height="1732" alt="A page of text, showing a game. Across the top of the page, there is writing in several small red boxes in columns, followed by some paragraphs of text. At the bottom, there is a large red grid, with several black squares on it, in a circular shape" title="The Gospel Dice was an allegorical board game that is thought to be have been played by King Æthelstan (Image by Alamy)" /> Making the effort What can we take from this? Well, there was a lot going on in Æthelstan’s reign, not least the project to create a new polity and fend off the Viking threat. So if he could maintain an interest in learning under that sort of pressure, maybe there’s a lesson for us as we wrestle with how to deal with the threat, or opportunity, of AI. “In this age that we’re living in, we are witnessing a revolution in terms of the way that people access information. Large language models, things like ChatGPT, are enabling instant access to lots and lots of details: very useful tools are at our fingertips. But I do think we lose something in that shorthand access to detail. It’s only by engagement, close reading of a scholarly article or a primary text that you really get a sense of that text, you really understand the nuance of it,” notes David. If we rely on summaries created by artificial intelligence, if we forego the close reading, then we lose the ability to do that work for ourselves. That, says David, is where we can take a leaf out of Æthelstan’s book: “For me, a big lesson from the reign of Æthelstan is that emphasis on engagement of learning, on close reading.” Read more | Be wary of technology’s big promises, but roll with the changes The beauty of the printed page We’re talking about the concentrated hard yards of Æthelstan Intelligence over the easy option of Artificial Intelligence. But I suppose the question is whether we can be convinced to get our heads down and really engage with the written word, when we know that AI will be able to make things quicker and less onerous for us. Maybe, that’s where the beauty of the printed page comes into play, and that takes us back to Æthelstan and the Anglo-Saxons once more. If you’ve ever looked at a 10th-century illuminated manuscript, you’ll know what fantastic works of art they can be, and how much labour must have been invested in them. It’s hard not to want to study them up close – they demand detailed attention, precisely because so much attention was lavished upon them. <img src="https://images.immediate.co.uk/production/volatile/sites/7/2025/09/2PK8DWK-7720151.jpg" width="3814" height="3814" alt="A manuscript illustration showing a king wearing green and orange, holding a sceptre. He is sitting in the middle of a large blue circle" title="Can paying attention to illuminated manuscripts, like this one depicting King Æthelstan, help rekindle our love for physical print products? (Image by Alamy)" /> Though most of these manuscripts are digitised and available for virtual study, David’s first choice is to head to the library, turn the vellum pages, and get to grips with the physical object. Given the chance, I’d absolutely do that too. We’re not all academics with the opportunity to research these amazing Anglo-Saxon illuminated manuscripts in the original, but perhaps we should be encouraged by the continuing enduring power of print in wider culture. People are still making and buying handsomely produced books and magazines (like BBC History Magazine, for example), when we could just as easily be looking at the digital versions. Obviously there’s a balance, and we would be foolish not to make use of the benefits that AI is bringing, both to scholarly research and to life generally. But we should be mindful of letting too much learning potential slip away, for the sake of a quick answer or easy solution. “We need to maintain that close reading, that close understanding. But we also need to use tools like ChatGPT to advance our knowledge in various ways. You can get so much more done with these large language models, the way in which they can access data and trawl through it much faster than us. That’s a huge advantage. So I think if they’re used in complementary terms, that’s very important. But we need not to forget the core skills that we have in the first place.” According to David Woodman, Æthelstan would have approved of this message – he reckons the Anglo-Saxon lover of learning would have been a pragmatist when it came to the potential of AI. And that’s the Life Lesson from History we should take from this formative English monarch – let’s embrace learning for the sake of learning, and not let AI disempower our mental faculties. This article is part of HistoryExtra's new Life Lessons from History Substack newsletter. Subscribe to the newsletter for more articles and podcasts exploring the ways in which history can help us live better, happier, healthier or more productive lives.
My history hero: Katya Adler chooses Rita Levi-Montalcini (1909–2012)
Journalist and broadcaster Katya Adler chooses Rita Levi-Montalcini as her history hero
In profile Rita Levi-Montalcini was a renowned neurobiologist who was a joint winner of the 1986 Nobel Prize in Physiology or Medicine for the discovery of nerve growth factor. Born in Turin to Italian Jewish parents, her early career was hindered by Mussolini’s Racial Laws and she had to go into hiding during the Nazi occupation of Italy. In 1992, she established a foundation to boost girls’ science education in Africa, and 10 years later she set up the European Brain Research Institute. When did you first hear about Rita Levi-Montalcini? When I had to help my daughter find an inspirational woman in history for a school research project. Rita, who achieved such amazing things against the odds, really struck a chord with me and my daughter. Her life story also provides a new lens on a fascinating period in history. What kind of woman was she? Rita was a strong, determined, intelligent woman, but was born in the early 20th century – still a sexist time. Initially wanting to be a writer, she went into medicine after a close family friend died of stomach cancer. She was an outstanding student but, as a Jew in Fascist Italy, she was barred from working at a university. Headstrong Rita set up a laboratory in her bedroom instead. When the Germans invaded Italy in 1943, she was hidden by non-Jewish Italians to save her from a concentration or death camp, and continued her research in an ‘underground’ laboratory. What made her a hero? First and foremost, her medical research, which is key to our understanding of Alzheimer’s and Parkinson’s diseases. She’s one of only 25 women to have won a Nobel prize for science, so that was a massive triumph. I also love the fact that, despite the difficulties she faced, Rita never gave up. She always kept hope alive – continuing with her scientific research until she died, aged 103. Another thing I admire is the way she championed both the young and the elderly. Her motto was “add life to your years” – make the best of things and live life to the fullest! What was her finest hour? I don’t think there was any one finest hour. Instead, I’d argue that it was a life well lived – she never stopped trying to make the world a better place. The most impressive people I talk to as a journalist are not necessarily political leaders or celebrities but those who, like Rita, break down barriers and try to fight prejudice. Is there anything that you don’t particularly admire about her? Rita was embroiled in a funding scandal for a medical drug later in life. I think it’s important to know when a public figure messes up – but do you ‘cancel’ the life of someone who sought to make the world better? That said, I do find it rather troubling that she credited her success in part to eating one meal a day and not having a life partner – I wouldn’t want my daughters to grow up thinking a woman had to live her life that way to be successful. What would you ask her if you could meet her? I’d invite her to join me and another hero of mine, Al-‘Ijliyyah [the 10th-century Muslim astronomer and astrolabe maker credited with creating the foundations of modern GPS navigation systems] around the dinner table – along with other innovating women. I’m sure it would make for a lively, thought-provoking discussion. Katya Adler has been the BBC’s Europe editor since 2014. She has twice been named Broadcast Journalist of the Year. This article was first published in the October 2025 issue of BBC History Magazine
My history hero: Dame Stephanie Shirley chooses Tommy Flowers (1905–98)
The late tech pioneer and philanthropist Dame Stephanie Shirley, who died in August 2025 aged 91, chose Tommy Flowers as a history hero
In profile Tommy Flowers was a British engineer with the Post Office. He’s best known for designing and building Colossus, the world’s first programmable electronic computer, which helped decrypt German messages during the Second World War. After the end of the conflict, Flowers continued to work for the Post Office, where he was involved in developing ERNIE, the random number generator used to pick Premium Bond winners. When did you first hear about Flowers? I had the privilege of working as a member of his team (on the first electronic telephone exchange, and later ERNIE) at the Post Office Research Station in Dollis Hill in the 1950s, when it was one of the leading research institutions in the world. However, he was a very senior figure in the organisation so my interaction with him was limited. I understood that he’d done something remarkable during the war, but the Official Secrets Act was taken very seriously in those days, and the story of Colossus didn’t really emerge until the 1970s. What kind of man was he? He was born in London’s East End, the son of a bricklayer and the grandson of a charlady. Growing up, money was tight and he was taught to be frugal. While doing an engineering apprenticeship, he took evening classes, gained a degree in electrical engineering and went on to have a distinguished career. I always found him polite, unassuming, and never sexist. What made him a hero? Because he changed the course of history, not once but twice. First, with his Colossus computer, which decrypted a huge number of high-level German messages during the Second World War, part of work estimated to have curtailed the conflict by up to two years. Second, with his pioneering work on early computers that paved the way for the modern digital world. He was also inspirational to me personally, as the sort of manager I wanted to become: he listened to his staff, got quality work out of them and attracted great loyalty. He was the nearest thing to a mentor to me. What was his finest hour? Designing and building the Colossus computer at Bletchley Park in 1943–44. The Mark I Colossus processed information five times faster than Bletchley’s previous code-breaking system. Tommy’s Mark II Colossus, which began operation on 1 June 1944, decrypted a German message confirming that Hitler, believing that preparations for landings in Normandy were a feint, wanted no extra troops sent there. That helped convince Eisenhower to go ahead with the D-Day landings on 6 June. Can you see any parallels between his life and your own? We both came from modest beginnings, and both studied part-time in the evenings to get our degrees at London University – his was in engineering, mine in mathematics. What would you ask Flowers if you could meet him now? I’d like to ask how he felt about the ridiculous lack of recognition he received in his lifetime. He was given an MBE and a couple of honorary doctorates, but that was pretty small fry. I don’t know how many people appreciate the true significance of his wartime work. The late Dame Stephanie Shirley CH was a tech pioneer and philanthropist who came to Britain via the Kindertransport in 1939. Her memoir, Let It Go: My Extraordinary Story (Penguin), is available in paperback. This article was first published in the September 2025 issue of BBC History Magazine
Reshaping narratives, repatriation and Richard III : 25 lessons we've learnt from history in the last 25 years
To celebrate a quarter-century of BBC History Magazine, we asked 25 expert contributors to nominate the most important historical discoveries and revelations since the publication launched in 2000
1. Women played major roles in the Viking Age Just 25 years ago, there seemed to be little new to say about the Vikings – and that was particularly the case for Viking women. The centuries-old consensus was that Viking wives and daughters stayed at home, passively watching as the Viking Age unfolded around them. New technologies have forced a rethink, though, completely revolutionising what we know about Viking women. The first significant discovery came from a systematic survey of a nationwide database of metal-detected female dress jewellery. This demonstrated for the first time that Scandinavian women migrated to England in substantial numbers. Next, isotope analysis of teeth from the graves of Viking women showed that they had formed a key part of the migration process elsewhere, too, moving across the Viking world alongside their families. The most dramatic and most debated discovery, however, came through analysis of ancient DNA. In Birka, Sweden, an individual buried in a high-status warrior grave turned out to be biologically female. This led to a worldwide discussion of the roles of Viking women: we now agree that, though many certainly did stay at home, some played active roles in trade, craft and manufacturing processes, and even held military positions. Cat Jarman is an archaeologist, author and TV presenter. Her books include The Bone Chests: Unlocking the Secrets of the Anglo-Saxons (William Collins, 2023) 2. Britain has been culturally diverse for far longer than most believed The murder of George Floyd by white police officer Derek Chauvin in 2020 signalled a turning point in the way the histories of people of African descent were taught and perceived across Europe. From that moment, the British press and institutions felt that they had to engage better with narratives about minority ethnic communities. <img src="https://images.immediate.co.uk/production/volatile/sites/7/2025/06/GettyImages-1292414316-CMYK-6ff23f7.jpg" width="1451" height="967" alt="A black and white photograph of a man sitting in a chair, leaning on one arm. He is wearing a suit." title="Walter Tull, an English footballer of Caribbean heritage, c1908–11 and (below) with the FA Amateur Cup-winning Clapton FC team of 1908–09. Commissioned as a second lieutenant in the British Army, he was killed in action in France in March 1918" /> A renewed interest in personal histories and trajectories of people of African descent in Britain showcased stories about their links to major events – from the celebrated story of the British-Jamaican nurse Mary Seacole during the Crimean War to the experiences of black British football player Walter Tull and other soldiers of Caribbean and African descent who fought for Britain during the world wars. We also saw a number of new black history courses launched in UK universities, and school classes featuring black, Asian and minority ethnic histories. Uncovering these multiple trajectories further highlights how culturally diverse Britain has been over many centuries, and why sharing stories about a common past can bring communities together. Olivette Otele is a distinguished research professor at SOAS University of London. Her books include African Europeans: An Untold History (Hurst, 2020) 3. The Tudors got Richard III wrong We learned many things from the discovery of Richard III’s skeleton beneath a Leicester car park 13 years ago. We learned about the king’s physique, his diet and the injuries he sustained while fighting for crown and country at Bosworth against a foreign-backed invader. <img src="https://images.immediate.co.uk/production/volatile/sites/7/2025/06/BAL1066157-CMYK-2-7311920.jpg" width="2889" height="1925" alt="A painted portrait of Richard III. He is wearing a red top with a gold cape around his shoulders, with a black cap that includes a gold jewel on the front" title="Richard III, portrayed after 1510 – long after his death at Bosworth. “History can make no progress unless it’s ready to test and deconstruct generally held assumptions,” says Philippa Langley (Image by Bridgeman Images)" /> But, for me, two lessons in particular stand out from the discovery. The first is that history can make no progress unless it’s ready to test and deconstruct generally held traditions and assumptions – even those held by historians and archaeologists. Those of us working on the Looking for Richard Project trusted only our own painstaking, personal research in primary sources. Second, we learned that Shakespeare’s hunchback and withered arm never existed. Analysis of Richard’s skeleton – which had lain underfoot and peacefully undisturbed for 500 years – revealed that his limbs were sound, and that his spine showed a scoliosis that was invisible to onlookers. Richard’s makeshift burial in the wake of his defeat at Bosworth, in a grave cut too short, was hugely revealing. It speaks across the centuries of a victor’s disrespect for a fallen king. Philippa Langley is a historian, author and producer. Her latest book is The Princes in the Tower: Solving History’s Greatest Cold Case (The History Press, 2023) Read more | The final mystery of Richard III: how 21st-century science cracked a 500-year-old cold case 4. Magna Carta was only part of a truly revolutionary settlement King John’s Magna Carta is perhaps the best-known document in world history, generally regarded as the first attempt to place kingship itself under the rule of law. Not surprisingly, it has been much studied. Yet a torrent of new evidence has been brought to light over the past 20 years, transforming understanding of both the document and its wider context. We now know of many more ‘original’ Magna Cartas (from its subsequent reissues) than were previously dreamed of. And incidental discoveries in archives from Paris to New England have reshaped our appreciation of what actually happened in 1215. A fortuitous discovery in Lambeth Palace Library, for example, reveals that the charter was part of a truly revolutionary settlement, with the barons briefly permitted dual control of local government in tandem with the king. We know, too, that John himself made no attempt to publish the charter. On the contrary, it was the bishops who ensured its distribution, preservation and even, in some cases, its physical copying. The archbishop of Canterbury, Stephen Langton, is unmasked not so much as an honest broker between king and barons but as an ideologically committed adherent of the anti-royal party. By such means can new evidence help us rewrite the past – even for the oldest and best-known stories. Nicholas Vincent is professor of medieval history at the University of East Anglia. His books include John (Allen Lane, 2020) 5. We ignore the past at our peril Most compellingly, the past 25 years have reminded us that history matters. Every life-sapping conflict since the millennium – Iraq, Syria, Sudan, Libya, Ukraine, Gaza – has its roots deep in the past. Of course, the past does not determine the future, but the future is shaped by the past. Merely railing against adversaries or shouting ‘victory’ from the rooftops may make for good headlines but, in the absence of some understanding of ‘how we got from there to here’, such indulgence is vacuous grandstanding. <img src="https://images.immediate.co.uk/production/volatile/sites/7/2025/06/GettyImages-2198688988-CMYK-2766b77.jpg" width="3500" height="2331" alt="A group of Sudanese women and children dressed in bright clothing sit on the ground together. They all look serious." title="Women and children displaced by the civil war in Sudan, February 2025. The roots of such conflicts lie deep in the past, says Jonathan Dimbleby (Image by Getty Images)" /> The past has never been ‘another country’. This is especially true of Europe, where the tectonic plates did not stop shifting with the end of the Second World War in 1945 or the collapse of the Soviet Union in 1991. The events of the past 25 years have demonstrated only too cruelly that our continent is inherently, and sometimes alarmingly, unstable. All leaders claim to act in what they believe to be the national interest. The. less they make ill-judged declaratory statements of intent and the more they demonstrate a realistic vision of the future, based on a clear awareness of the past, the better it will be for all of us. History is a great mentor. Jonathan Dimbleby is a historian, biographer and broadcaster. His latest book is Endgame 1944: How Stalin Won the War (Viking, 2024) 6. Hitler tapped into hard-wired emotions to stir up hatred For my new book, I found it tremendously helpful to talk to academic psychologists and neuroscientists about the insights we can gain, in general terms, from their disciplines. For instance, I learned how Hitler – without knowing the science behind his actions – tapped into a profound truth about the way the brain works. In stirring up hatred against Jews and Bolsheviks, Hitler targeted the amygdala – the part of the brain that immediately processes feelings of anxiety, fear and anger. These powerful emotions are produced almost instantly, because it’s the amygdala that helps us avoid sudden danger. It’s a survival mechanism that, as the neuroscientist Professor Robert Sapolsky explained to me, is “hard-wired into us… and we’ll never get rid of it”. Hitler capitalised on this neurobiological tendency, and in the process did his best to subdue the parts of the brain that offer a more logical analysis. Indeed, he seemed to confirm that he was well aware of the immense power of this approach when he remarked, during a private speech to the Hamburger Nationalklub in 1926, that “the only stable emotion is hate”. Laurence Rees is a historian, author and documentary film-maker. His new book is The Nazi Mind: Twelve Warnings From History (Viking, 2025) 7. Hunter-gatherers and farmers joined in wild rituals 12,000 years ago Around the turn of this millennium, in a remote south-eastern corner of Turkey, an astonishing discovery was being made – one that stretched the story of humanity back more than 12,000 years. Still today, only about 5 per cent of the archaeological site known as Karahantepe has been excavated – but even that tiny fraction is changing our understanding of the beginning of society as we know it. Emerging from the earth is a giant chamber with 11 huge stone phallus columns, overlooked by the face of a man with a splendid handlebar moustache and the body of a snake. The head of a big cat is visible in the centre, and carvings on 250 obelisks in the area could be mistaken for gargoyles on any medieval cathedral.We expect the female equivalent of the chamber to be unearthed soon. Karahantepe, it turns out, is just one site in a constellation of a hundred or so – the Taş Tepeler – which together are rewriting the story of human collaboration. The orthodoxy used to be that hunter-gatherers invented farming, then settled down, then manifested religion to establish common mores to live by. But the discoveries seem to show that hunter-gatherers and the very first farmers gathered together in huge, collective spaces for wild ritual parties to share know-how and ideas. This is one of the joys of history: it is constantly protean. Every year, new finds reveal earlier and earlier evidence of human achievement and sophistication. Bettany Hughes is a historian, author and broadcaster. Her latest book is The Seven Wonders of the Ancient World (W&N, 2024) 8. Returning stolen artefacts to Africa is no longer a naive dream Some 25 years ago, when I was starting my career in museums, a sense of optimism and renewal imbued the sector – yet the restitution of stolen African objects did not seem a realistic possibility. Today, the culture has changed profoundly. My old employer, the Smithsonian National Museum of African Art in Washington, DC, has returned its contested Benin plaques; the Dutch, Germans and French have either begun programmes of return or discussed the possibility. In Britain, the Horniman has returned ownership of its Benin plaques, and the V&A and the British Museum (both restricted by law from giving collections permanently) have entered into long-term loan agreements with the Asante royal family in Ghana. <img src="https://images.immediate.co.uk/production/volatile/sites/7/2025/06/GettyImages-1432612271-CMYK-85c7997.jpg" width="2806" height="1869" alt="A collection of Benin Bronzes – objects stolen by British troops in 1897 – displayed in the Smithsonian National Museum of African Art in Washington, DC in 2022 before repatriation to Nigeria (Image by Getty Images)" title="A collection of Benin Bronzes – objects stolen by British troops in 1897 – displayed in the Smithsonian National Museum of African Art in Washington, DC in 2022 before repatriation to Nigeria" /> Conversations that were inconceivable a generation ago – about ethics, about custodianship, about narrative, about ghosts – have begun to happen. We have to find ways to tell complex stories of empire, enslavement and colonialism more effectively and inclusively. It’s important that museums can craft their curatorial narratives with moral confidence, and the resolution of such thorny, long-term issues is vital. There is still much to do. Our museums must go further in building partnerships and programmes with museums across the African continent. We need to learn from African expertise – and in turn we must share our resources and expertise to improve the telling of these rich and amazing histories everywhere. Gus Casely-Hayford is a curator, historian and broadcaster. His books include The Lost Kingdoms of Africa (Bantam, 2012) 9. Anne Boleyn was a proto-feminist heroine Anne Boleyn is unique among English queens, and her story is remarkable, but much of the modern fascination with that tale lies in perceptions of her fuelled by films and novels. She is now revered as a feminist heroine – a concept I would once have dismissed as anachronistic. When I said as much to the historian Sarah Gristwood, she replied: “Well, actually…” and very generously allowed me a preview of her research for her marvellous book Game of Queens (Oneworld, 2016), which inspired me to find out more. Feminism was unknown in Tudor England. But in early 16th-century Europe, where Anne spent her formative years, there was an intellectual debate that questioned traditional attitudes to women, and looked forward to an era – the ‘reign of virtue’ – in which they would enjoy more power and equality. In this age of female rulers, Anne had two shining examples to study: Margaret of Austria and Marguerite of Valois, both of whom she served or knew. We have to study her in this European context in order to understand the cultural influences to which she was exposed, giving her the confidence to pursue her brilliant career. Alison Weir is an author and historian. Her latest book is The Cardinal: The Secret Life of Thomas Wolsey (Headline, 2025) 10. Mary Seacole was a true heroine of the Crimean War One of the most significant changes over the past 25 years is the extent to which researching and writing black history has opened up. This is partly down to the dedication of historians determined to extend knowledge of the black experience by digging deeply and stubbornly into little-consulted sources. <img src="https://images.immediate.co.uk/production/volatile/sites/7/2025/06/2PJ0WEX-CMYK-06a24e3.jpg" width="2422" height="1614" alt="British-Jamaican nurse Mary Seacole, who cared for sick and wounded troops in Crimea. Digitisation of sources helped Helen Rappaport paint a more rounded portrait of her (Image by Alamy)" title="British-Jamaican nurse Mary Seacole, who cared for sick and wounded troops in Crimea. Digitisation of sources helped Helen Rappaport paint a more rounded portrait of her (Image by Alamy)" /> In my own case, 20 years of concerted searching across digitised newspapers and in genealogical archives gave the lie to the till-then widely perpetuated view that Mary Seacole had been wildly overrated and undeserving of the ‘Greatest Black Briton’ sobriquet awarded her in 2004. For decades, detractors dismissed her as a colourful but largely irrelevant presence who had done little more than ‘sell tea and buns’ to the soldiers in Crimea. But my searches, enabled by digitisation of sources, brought me to a more complete view of a woman who deserves to be viewed as a heroine. She journeyed 1,600 miles to Crimea under her own steam and at her own expense to set up shop in the middle of a war zone – a lone black woman facing prejudice and risking her own safety to help the wounded, sick and dying. Delving into previously unseen sources over an extended period enabled me to challenge the conventional sanctification of ‘the black Florence Nightingale’ and present a fully rounded personality. Helen Rappaport is an author and historian. Her latest book is The Rebel Romanov (Simon & Schuster, 2025) 11. Public history can play a major role in understanding the past One great change over the last 25 years has been the huge growth in public history – not just as an academic discipline, though of course it rests on the work of professional historians, archivists and museum workers. <img src="https://images.immediate.co.uk/production/volatile/sites/7/2025/06/GettyImages-473083908-CMYK-5eef700.jpg" width="5184" height="3454" alt="A woman wearing plain clothing and with her hair in a bun sits at a spinning wheel" title="A re-enactor at a recreation of a medieval German monastery village. Such projects contribute to public – and academic – understanding of the past (Image by Getty Images)" /> Public history is the product of us all. It is about public interaction with the past, its interpretation and popularisation – changing our understanding not only of the past but also of our own times. It’s about the link between historians and the general public. Films, podcasts, radio, heritage societies, living archaeologists, local history and re-enactment groups – even readers of this magazine – are all part of it. Good popularisation is the necessary link between professionals and the population at large, without which history becomes a closed debate between historians. And in a democracy, that link is vital: it’s part of a healthy information ecosystem, our reality check in the face of the tide of fake history on social media. Perhaps not surprisingly, in Trump’s America the US National Council on Public History is becoming more important in keeping minds open. When I hear people argue that you can’t rewrite history – though that is our actual collective job as makers of history! – it makes me think that perhaps we should have one here, too. Michael Wood is professor of public history at the University of Manchester. Read his column from the May 2025 issue of BBC History Magazine here 12. Charles I wasn’t so very chaste Traditional accounts of Charles I, the so-called ‘martyr king’, have always presented him as a grave, austere and chaste figure – the very opposite of his indecorous, bawdy father, James VI & I, and his dissipated, promiscuous son, Charles II. Charles’s marriage to his wife, Henrietta Maria, was undoubtedly a happy one and, until the royal couple were torn apart during the Civil War, he does indeed appear to have remained true to her alone. However, in an article published in 2006, the historian Sarah Poynting revisited a series of encrypted letters written by Charles in late 1647 and 1648, while he was imprisoned in Carisbrooke Castle on the Isle of Wight after his defeat by the parliamentarians. Previous attempts to decipher these letters had not been entirely accurate, Poynting showed, and in fact one of them revealed that Charles had been attempting to inveigle the royalist agent Jane Whorwood into his bed. Using the frankest language, Charles went so far as to suggest to Jane that she should secretly conceal herself in the ‘stool-room’ adjoining his chamber while he was out on his daily walk so that, after his return, he could dally with her at length. It was a remarkable discovery – and one that suggested previous characterisations of the king as “blamelessly uxorious” may well have been a little wide of the mark. Mark Stoyle is professor of history at the University of Southampton. His latest book is A Murderous Midsummer: The Western Rising of 1549 (Yale University Press, 2022) Read more | "Tyrant, traitor, murderer and public enemy": was Charles I really that bad? 13. Mesolithic Europeans had dark skin and blue eyes One of the major scientific advances in archaeology over the past 25 years has been the ability to extract and analyse DNA from the remains of long-dead people from the distant past. Such ancient DNA can shed light on how people were related to one another, on a family or population scale, and provide insights into the migration and movement of people over time. It can also tell us what diseases they had and – perhaps most compelling – what they looked like. In 2018, researchers at the Natural History Museum revealed that one of the inhabitants of Mesolithic Britain, a man who lived around 10,000 years ago, had dark skin and blue eyes. This individual – known as ‘Cheddar Man’, because his remains were discovered in a cave in Cheddar Gorge in Somerset – is represented by one of the oldest complete skeletons ever identified in Britain. Earlier results from remains found from Spain, Luxembourg and Hungary confirm that most hunter-gatherers in Mesolithic Europe looked this way. The genes for lighter skin pigmentation arrived thousands of years later, in waves of migration from the east during the Neolithic and Bronze Age. In addition, natural selection over time favoured lighter tones that allow more Vitamin D synthesis in the skin, essential in northerly climes. Susan Greaney is a lecturer in archaeology at the University of Exeter 14. Premodern Japan was surprisingly progressive One of the most fascinating and dynamic periods of Japanese history was the Meiji Restoration, which began with the overthrow of the Tokugawa shogunate in 1868 and ended with the death of the Meiji Emperor in 1912. Japan opened up as never before to diplomatic and trading relationships with the west and, over little more than four decades, modernised its economy and society at an astonishing rate. By 1912, it had become one of the world’s great powers. <img src="https://images.immediate.co.uk/production/volatile/sites/7/2025/06/GettyImages-566421965-CMYK-53c95d9.jpg" width="2704" height="1802" alt="A print showing a large blue river with little boats on it. A large arched bridge crosses the river. In the background, a volcano can be seen" title="An 1856 print of rural Japan by Hiroshige. Under the Tokugawa shogunate that preceded the 1868 Meiji Restoration, Japan enjoyed an artistic and intellectual flourishing (Image by Getty Images)" /> For a long time, this explosion of activity was contrasted with the preceding 250 years of the Tokugawa shogunate. That system was regarded as feudal, backward and badly out of date, requiring rescue at the hands of modernising and westernising reformers. Much though this view of history suited western historians across the 20th century, and flattering as it was to western modernity, since 2000 historians have increasingly been exploring the myriad achievements of the shogunate. Across two and a half centuries of peace, Japanese commerce, intellectual life and the arts enjoyed extraordinary growth and creativity, from theatre through to a tourism industry and a publishing boom. Without the commercial and technical expertise, high literacy rates and great bustling cities that developed under the shogunate, the Meiji Restoration could not have happened in the way that it did. Christopher Harding is senior lecturer in Asian history at the University of Edinburgh and creator of the IlluminAsia newsletter and podcast (illuminasia.org). His latest book is The Light of Asia: A History of Western Fascination with the East (Allen Lane, 2024) 15. Egypt’s great pyramids at Giza weren’t built by foreign slaves Dominating the Giza Plateau for almost five millennia, the great pyramids still capture imaginations around the world. For centuries, archaeologists and historians have tried to determine how these magnificent monuments, including the only surviving Wonder of the Ancient World, were created – and now we know who built them. Contrary to popular depictions, construction wasn’t completed by foreign slaves but by Egyptian employees. Excavations of a workers’ village over the past couple of decades, and the discovery of builders’ tombs in 2009, have transformed the narrative. The village, dating from the Fourth Dynasty (starting c4,600 years ago), boasted bakeries, breweries, butchers and a hospital. In the burial sites, skeletons show signs of hard labour, as one might expect, but they’re also accompanied by jars of bread and beer, ready for the afterlife. There are female skeletons, too, confirming that women played roles in building the pyramids. Hieroglyphs suggest a system of skilled labourers and artisans, from “overseer of the side of the pyramid” to “inspector of the craftsmen”. It’s also clear that villagers from surrounding areas came here to work in construction, usually in three-month stints. Their graffiti indicates that each cadre might associate themselves with one particular pharaoh or pyramid: the “friends of Khufu”, for example, or “drunkards of Menkaure”. The inscriptions confirm that the pyramid builders were Egyptian. And the manner and location of the burials, in the shadow of the great pharaohs, puts the slave myth to bed. Islam Issa is professor of literature and history at Birmingham City University. His latest book is Alexandria: The City that Changed the World (Sceptre, 2023) 16. Personal links to empire can reshape old narratives Astonishingly, I completed my entire education without learning about the British empire. I don’t even have a recollection of hearing the world ‘empire’ mentioned at school – and I studied History A-level! I now know that my experience is not unique. In the past 10 years or so, though, I have gained a growing understanding of not only what happened and how it shaped Britain today, but also of my own personal connection to empire and its tumultuous end. I feel lucky to be making programmes and writing books at a time when there is a greater interest in knowing about Britain’s imperial past – not that it is without complications or controversies. And things continue changing: a new generation of historians is exploring archives and asking different questions. Teachers are choosing to explore empire in all its complexity, and conversations are being had between people in the diaspora and their family members about a time when they were subjects of empire. I am learning that, just because an area of history is overlooked or not spoken of, it doesn’t always have to be that way. Kavita Puri is a journalist and broadcaster for BBC Radio 4. Read her Hidden Histories column from the May 2025 issue of BBC History Magazine here 17. Stonehenge was built in an already sacred area The past two and a half decades have seen a transformation in our understanding of one of the most iconic ancient monuments in Britain and, indeed, the world: Stonehenge. Archaeological research has revealed that the 4,500-year-old prehistoric ‘temple’ stood at the heart of a sacred landscape infinitely richer than previously thought. Scores of ritual monuments have been discovered in a vast halo scattered across the countryside around the monument. Even more extraordinarily, tests have revealed that one of Stonehenge’s most important stones was transported all the way from what’s now northern Scotland – and that a large number of the smaller stones had probably originally formed part of another stone circle in south-west Wales before being brought here. And research shows that some of the Neolithic people buried at Stonehenge did not come from the area but from western Britain, possibly from modern-day Wales – significant, given the origins of many of its smaller stones. We now know, too, that Mesolithic hunter-gatherers were active in the Stonehenge area some 5,000 years before the monument existed. This remarkable new information, together with earlier evidence that a series of Mesolithic wooden obelisks may have stood adjacent to the site of Stonehenge, suggests that the area had been sacred for millennia. David Keys is the archaeological correspondent for The Independent 18. The tide seems to have turned against the British empire By the year 2000, the British empire – formerly a global superpower – had been transformed into an organisation with entirely voluntary membership, the Commonwealth. At the time, academic assessment of this extraordinary transformation resulted in a number of books – including my own – which concluded that British imperialism had been overall, and in a remarkable variety of ways, both a blessing and a curse. In the 25 years since that relatively benign consensus, however, there has been a profound anti-imperial swing resulting in a wholesale condemnation of British imperial history – shifting the dial remarkably. It is, however, vital to understand that, even at its Victorian zenith, the empire faced trenchant criticism from within. Anti-imperial attitudes were commonplace on the left wing of the Liberal Party, the infant Labour Party and the generally hostile Irish Nationalist Party. Nonconformist churches – Methodists, Congregationalists and, above all, Quakers – voiced criticisms of imperial aims and methods. Internal opposition, from resentful Afrikaners, French Canadians and diverse displaced and conquered Indigenous peoples, also inevitably arose. To cope with such internal opposition, and to prolong its existence, the imperial system undertook much self-correction – a process that led to mass devolution, the end of empire and the birth of today’s Commonwealth. In short, we are now keenly aware that there is no neat and fireproof analysis of the nature, governance and purpose of the British empire. It was such a huge, complex and long-lived organisation that almost every criticism, as well as almost every justification, has some validity somewhere and at some time. Denis Judd is professor emeritus of imperial and Commonwealth history at London Metropolitan University, and author of Empire (IB Tauris revised paperback edition, 2012) 19. The world is in danger of reverting to its darkest days After the collapse of Soviet-style communism in Russia and eastern Europe in 1989–91, the American political scientist Francis Fukuyama wrote a book called The End of History and the Last Man. In it, he predicted optimistically that the demise of the Soviet system meant that western liberalism would roll out across the world, and that the future belonged to progressive democracy, with no rivals to challenge it. In fact, since the first issue of BBC History Magazine was published in 2000, history has evolved along a drastically different path to the one that Fukuyama predicted. So far, the 21st century has belonged to resurgent strongmen. In country after country, authoritarian regimes led by dictatorial rulers have come to power – and stayed there, with scant regard for democracy. Putin’s Russia, Xi’s China, Erdogan’s Turkey, Kim’s North Korea and Sisi’s Egypt are leading examples of a worldwide trend that shows no sign of ending. So what we have learned from history in this century is a rather troubling lesson. After the terrors of the 20th century, the world is not moving into broad, sunlit uplands but is in danger of reverting to the darkest days of the past. Nigel Jones is a historian, journalist and former reviews editor of BBC History Magazine. His latest book is Kitty’s Salon: Sex, Spying and Surveillance in the Third Reich (John Blake, 2023) 20. Technology enables deep-sea shipwreck discoveries – but we should beware hubris In recent years, sophisticated modern technologies have allowed humans to dive deeper, explore the seabed autonomously, and locate shipwrecks. Lost in 1915 in the Weddell Sea, Sir Ernest Shackleton’s polar vessel Endurance made headlines when its wreck was rediscovered in 2022. Recovering or even visiting the wreck, which lies at a depth of 3,000 metres, are major challenges. But submersible robots were able to photograph the Endurance from every angle, enabling scientists to create a digital model of the whole vessel as well as many artefacts preserved just as they were when the crew abandoned ship. <img src="https://images.immediate.co.uk/production/volatile/sites/7/2025/06/GettyImages-1137373443cmyk-1b64874.jpg" width="5248" height="3496" alt="Ernest Shackleton’s polar vessel Endurance clamped in a fatal ice embrace in 1915. The discovery of its wreck on the Antarctic seabed in 2022 made headlines (Image by Getty Images)" title="Ernest Shackleton’s polar vessel Endurance clamped in a fatal ice embrace in 1915. The discovery of its wreck on the Antarctic seabed in 2022 made headlines (Image by Getty Images)" /> The wreck of the Gloucester, lost in 1682 after hitting a sandbank while transporting James, Duke of York and his court, was discovered in 2007. Future excavation of the site could provide an unprecedented opportunity to explore a Restoration royal court frozen in time. Just as the Mary Rose Museum has captured the public imagination, making Henry VIII’s warship part of British national conversations, telling the Gloucester’s stories could transform public understanding of a historical period that laid the constitutional foundations of modern Britain. In 2025, mid-point in the United Nations ‘Ocean Decade’, a key task is to meaningfully integrate Britain’s remarkable maritime cultural heritage into ocean governance to help create a sustainable blue economy. Nonetheless, humanity should remain humble in the face of the ocean’s uncontrollable forces. The implosion in 2023 of the submersible Titan on its expedition to the wreck of the Titanic – resulting in the death of all on board – is a cautionary tale. Some 3 million shipwrecks around the world prove that the sea – so elemental, so powerful – shouldn’t be disrespected. Claire Jowitt is professor of Renaissance studies at the University of East Anglia 21. We now know how many enslaved African people were trafficked across the Atlantic The transatlantic slave trade was one of the largest forced movements of people in world history – yet for decades it was difficult to quantify. Then, in the early 1990s, an international team came together to solve this problem. The result was the Trans-Atlantic Slave Trade Database, which showed that 12.5 million people were transported. Of those, 10.7 million survived the journey and arrived in the Americas. Many people, particularly in the US and the UK, assumed that most enslaved people were trafficked to the United States. In fact, the database showed that fewer than 400,000 Africans were forcibly taken directly to mainland North America; about 4.8 million arrived in South America and 4.7 million in the Caribbean. First published as a CD-ROM in 1999, the database was greatly expanded in the early 2000s to include the Portuguese trade in the South Atlantic. Re-released as an open-access website in 2008, including details of an additional 7,000 journeys, it has been described as one of the greatest historical achievements of the 21st century. Though the database does not give us a rich picture of the experiences of enslaved peoples, it has been critical to understanding the scale of one of the world’s worst human-rights violations. Hannah Cusworth is a historian, curator and history education consultant Read more | The history of Africa: why we need to look much deeper than slavery and colonisation 22. Richard III was behind the disappearance of the princes in the Tower… probably It’s history’s most compelling missing persons case: what happened to Edward V and his younger brother, Richard, after they were placed in the Tower in 1483 on the orders of their uncle, who soon afterwards seized the throne as Richard III? The mystery has been the subject of intense debate ever since. Some three decades later, Thomas More had established the narrative that Richard had his nephews murdered with the help of his henchman, James Tyrell. There was no shortage of other suspects but, though every scrap of evidence has been pored over by generations of historians since, the trail was already cold. Recently, Tim Thornton, professor of history at the University of Huddersfield, took a novel approach. Rather than researching the events leading up to the princes’ disappearance, he traced the lives of those involved in the years that followed – and found links between Thomas More and the two men he claimed had carried out the murder for Tyrell. Then, last year, Thornton came across a book of wills in the National Archives that included one made in 1516 by a wealthy London widow, Margaret Capel, half sister-in-law of Sir James Tyrell. Among her chattels listed in the will was “the chain of Edward V” – the only one of the boys’ possessions referenced in sources after their disappearance. The fact that it turned up in the family of the prime suspect makes it close to a ‘smoking gun’. Tracy Borman is a historian, author and broadcaster. Her documentary The Princes in the Tower: A Damning Discovery is on My5 23. History can help veterans cope with PTSD A remarkable discovery made this century is that history can be hugely therapeutic for veterans suffering from post-traumatic stress disorder (PTSD). It might seem deeply counterintuitive but when veterans undertake top-level archaeological research on battlefields, rather than re-igniting their traumas it often tends to work in positive ways for them psychologically, and can be a useful step on their road to recovery. The work done by the organisation Waterloo Uncovered, founded in 2015 by former Coldstream Guards captain (and PTSD sufferer) Mark Evans, has been instrumental in this regard. Its mental-health experts found that, after helping to discover facts that are useful to military historians – the musket-ball scatter-pattern outside the orchard at the Hougoumont farmhouse in a key sector of the Waterloo battlefield, for example – veterans often saw improvements in their mental conditions. There are various theories about the mechanisms of this effect. Perhaps such work reminds veterans that their predecessors two centuries ago encountered much the same kind of perils they did themselves in war zones such as Iraq and Afghanistan. Evans also noted that the project provided a safe and structured environment in which veterans with shared experiences could start to open up to one another about the challenges they faced. Whatever the reason, history is helping in a tangible way today. Andrew Roberts’ latest book, with General David Petraeus, is Conflict: The Evolution of War-fare from 1945 to Gaza (William Collins, 2024) 24. Technology has revolutionised how historians work and collaborate One of the great things about historical research is that it keeps on moving. When I was a young historian, looking back in time required me to handle complex written materials and work out how to supplement them with reference material culture, to archaeology or to finds such as coins and lead seals. <img src="https://images.immediate.co.uk/production/volatile/sites/7/2025/06/GettyImages-3433569-CMYK-2f40b22.jpg" width="2726" height="1815" alt="A sketch shows a massive explosion with black smoke billowing into the air" title="The catastrophic 1883 eruption of Krakatoa, depicted in a contemporary lithograph. Technological advances enable historians to better understand the impacts of such events (Image by Getty Images)" /> The past quarter-century has revolutionised the tools available to historians. Huge advances in the sciences, combined with plunging costs, mean that we now have access to data sources that don’t just provide new insights into topics such as human migration or the spread and lethality of pandemic diseases, but also enable us to do so with increasing accuracy. These are tools we must learn to rely on. Many of these new materials are related to climate archives, enabling historians to reconstruct past periods of environmental change – or even, in some cases, to better understand the effects of single, one-off extreme events such as floods, storms or volcanic eruptions. That, in turn, has changed how historians work, not least in the ways we can collaborate more often and more meaningfully with colleagues across research groups. It’s an incredibly exciting time to be a historian – to be part of the community of people interested in the past. Peter Frankopan is professor of global history at Oxford University. His latest book is The Earth Transformed: An Untold History (Bloomsbury, 2023) 25. Powerful female leaders weren’t the sex-crazed failures of (manmade) myth Our understanding of queenship has, thankfully, moved forward in the past 25 years – just as women’s history has also moved forward. Female rulers such as Cleopatra and Mary, Queen of Scots have all too frequently been cited as cautionary tales about what follows when you give women power: sex and death. But in recent years, revisionist historians such as Kara Cooney, Joyce Tyldesley and Joann Fletcher have written brilliant accounts of Cleopatra, challenging the perception of her as a sex-mad failure. <img src="https://images.immediate.co.uk/production/volatile/sites/7/2025/06/GettyImages-544268988-CMYK-27bfceb.jpg" width="3025" height="2016" alt="A woman with red hair tied back into a bun, wearing a brocaded red dress with a high white collar, and a lot of jewellery" title="Mary, Queen of Scots, painted c1558–60. Historical female rulers must be seen in context, says Kate Williams (Image by Getty Images)" /> Mary, Queen of Scots was surrounded by men attempting to seize her power – and, when she had a son, she was set on a course that led to her being deposed in favour of him. Lord Bothwell made her go back to his castle, where he assaulted her in an attempt to force her to marry. Past historians framed her for setting up this event. Today, though, we understand that a woman who had been seized and sexually assaulted was expected to agree to marry the man who attacked her. In Mary’s case, all of the lords were in agreement with that course of action – so what choice did Mary have? As we are increasingly coming to understand, female rulers need to be seen in context. If they lost to the powerful men of the time or, indeed, the Roman empire, we need to grasp why that happened. Such insights can shape perceptions of the past – and a future with women in power. Kate Williams is professor of public engagement with history at the University of Reading. Her latest book is The Royal Palaces: Secrets and Scandals (Frances Lincoln, 2024) This article was first published in the June 2025 issue of BBC History Magazine
Iwan Morus revisits the life – and myth – of the enigmatic pioneer of electrical power
Nikola Tesla is remembered as an enigmatic, eccentric genius who harnessed the power of electricity. But if we strip away some of this myth, what can we really say about the inventor's life and legacy? For this Life of the Week episode, Iwan Morus joins Ellie Cawthorne to reveal how Tesla believed he could invent a death ray, whether he was really a recluse, and how he would feel about Elon Musk's company using his name today.