Enlightenment studies are currently in a state of flux, with unresolved arguments among its adherents about its dates, its locations, and the contents of the 'movement'. This book cuts the Gordian knot.
There are many books claiming to explain the Enlightenment, but most assume that it was a thing. J. C. D. Clark shows what it actually was, namely a historiographical concept. Currently 'the Enlightenment' is a term widely accepted across popular culture and in a variety of academic disciplines, notably history, philosophy, political theory, political science, literary studies, and theology; Clark calls for a fundamental reconsideration in each.
The An Idea and Its History provides a critical historical analysis of the Enlightenment in England, Scotland, France, Germany, and the United States from c. 1650 to the present. It argues that the degree of commonality between social and intellectual movements in each--and, more broadly, between the five societies--has been overstated for polemical purposes. Clark shows that the concept of 'the Enlightenment' was not widely adopted in those societies until the mid-twentieth century; indeed, that it was unknown in the eighteenth. Without the concept, people at the time were unable to act in ways that would have created the Enlightenment as a coherent movement. Since the conventional account has held that the Enlightenment was a phenomenon, the idea could be used as a component of what has been called a 'civil religion': a summing up of the myths of origin, aims, and essential values of a society from which dissent is not permitted. An appreciation that it was instead a historiographical concept undermines, in turn, the idea that there was any great transition to what came to be called 'modernity'.
Jonathan Charles Douglas Clark is the Joyce C. and Elizabeth Ann Hall Distinguished Professorship of British History Emeritus at the University of Kansas. He received his undergraduate degree at Downing College, Cambridge and prior to his move to Kansas in 1996 he taught at Peterhouse, Cambridge and All Souls College, Oxford.
Reading the opening chapters of J.C.D. Clark’s 2024 book felt like stepping into a hall of mirrors where history is less a reflection of reality and more a carefully crafted illusion. Clark’s thesis—that the Enlightenment was a retrospective construct rather than a lived reality—resonates with something I’ve often mused about: how so many of the periods we casually designate as epochs, from the Middle Ages to the Scientific Revolution, were created in hindsight. These broad brushstrokes are useful for framing history, certainly, but they can be dangerously distorting too.
It’s like the “Old Testament times”. Nobody living then thought of themselves as part of an “Old Testament” era. That term was only made meaningful in light of what followed—the “New” Testament. The designation reshaped the meaning of what came before, imposing coherence on a period that, to those living it, was likely as fragmented and chaotic as any. Clark’s argument feels like an extension of this phenomenon, suggesting that the Enlightenment as a singular movement is more a story we’ve told ourselves (and told ourselves only quite lately, at that) than a truth the 18th century lived.
This tendency isn’t quite universal; there is one exception. The Renaissance. An era that christened itself. Which raises an interesting point. It suggests that the act of naming can be a form of cultural ambition, a deliberate claim to significance. Yet even the Renaissance, as Robert Lopez and others have noted, is as much a retrospective imposition as it is a contemporary coinage, and the term’s modern connotations owe more to the historians of later periods than to the humanists of Florence or Rome. In any case, the Renaissance demonstrates perhaps better than any period that labels are rarely neutral; they come freighted with the agendas of those who wield them, whether consciously or not.
Now Clark critiques the concept of the Enlightenment as part of a “civil religion”, which I find particularly provocative. If we imagine the Enlightenment as a myth of origins for modernity, much as the Bible serves Christianity or the Constitution serves the United States, then the stakes of such a construct become clear. It sanctifies certain values—reason, individualism, secularism—while discouraging dissent from the narrative. I see his point. But I’m also of two minds about this. On the one hand, the Enlightenment myth (if one may call it such) has undoubtedly flattened the distinct and localised complexities of English political philosophy, French salons, or German metaphysics. On the other hand, these overarching narratives can be the (perhaps ugly) scaffolding for building the chaos of history into an intelligible shape.
The concept of “religion” itself illustrates this tension. In medieval times, the term didn’t mean what it does today. A “religious” person was a cleric, not someone who believed in a certain metaphysical framework. Applying our modern idea of “religion” to the past might obscure as much as it clarifies, turning the Bible into “religious literature” when its authors and editors might have been driven by motives far more varied—political, legal, poetic. And yet, without such a concept, how could we engage in comparative studies, finding commonalities and differences between the Bible, the Qur'an, and the Analects?
Clark’s book asks us to tread carefully with these retrospective constructs, recognising them as perhaps necessary but certainly tricky. It strikes me that having a degree of ambivalence on this is a good thing—it leaves room for nuance. Historical narratives, like myths, are tools: neither wholly false nor entirely true, but provisional, contingent, and ripe for re-examination.
Clark’s critique has inspired me to sharpen my awareness of the ways in which these narratives shape my understanding. The Enlightenment wasn’t a monolith. Its thinkers, like Voltaire and Kant, weren’t exactly exchanging notes to create a unified movement. Yet, I can’t quite let go of the term. It’s a handle, albeit an imperfect one, that helps me begin to make sense of the chaos. And perhaps that’s what all history is in the end: a beautiful, messy attempt to wrest coherence from a world that never promised us any.
To put it bluntly, this is the most important historical work I have ever read; it is one of the few paradigm-shifting books of my life. It turns Jonathan Israel's multiple thousand-page tomes on 'the Radical Enlightenment' into so many paperweights. Clark considers this work to be a kind of final part of his historiographical project begun with his work on Thomas Paine (2018) and the long eighteenth century. It remains to be seen if other historians will pick up its insights and respond to its challenges, but I certainly will try as a theologian. Unfortunately, academic theology (and philosophy of religion) over the last 75 years has tended to uncritically accept the "findings" of historians without much question. Therefore 'the Enlightenment' has become reified in theological circles; liberals (like the Anglican Paul Avis) co-opt the standard definition in order to prove how forward thinking and attractive Anglicans have always been, while conservatives like Alisdair MacIntyre adopt the postmodern position, arguing for "an Enlightenment project" that has led "modernity" down a bad, Cartesian, deistic path, thus continuing 'the Enlightenment's' reification.
'The Enlightenment' neither 'led' to modern, Western democracies nor to modern, totalitarian genocides because 'the Enlightenment' is just a concept, one which was widespread in German philosophical circles in the nineteenth century, but did not spread to other nations until the 1930s and did not become established as 'the' historiography until the 1960s with Peter Gay.
This work is thus a sustained, scholarly consideration of the many attempts at historians and philosophers to delineate 'something' called 'the Enlightenment.' Through a careful sifting of original sources, early histories of philosophy, dictionary definitions, and historical surveys, Clark demonstrates that 'the Enlightenment' is an historical concept (construct), 'enlightening' an ever-popular metaphor. As a concept, it has had many uses: from supporting the 'timeless ideas' thesis (contra Heidegger) and celebrating Weimar German culture (Cassirer), to delineating the causes of the unimaginable horrors of Nazism (Horkheimer, Adorno), to supporting the American mythic origins, to propping other national identities (Scottish, German), to providing more ammunition in the continual battle between atheism and theism (Dawkins) or the battle between liberalism and conservatism (Israel) - 'the Enlightenment' has done a lot of conceptual work. In fact, that is why 'it' exists: to justify and vindicate ideological positions. No writers in the eighteenth century were aware that they were a part of a unified movement. None (not even Kant) thought that there were discernible values and goals that Scots, English, Germans, French, Dutch, and Italian thinkers were pursuing together.
This book is the historian's equivalent of turning up at a biker bar and starting a fight with all the regulars.
It's a book about "the Englightenment" that contests not that it didn't exist (that'd be too obvious and boring a provocation for Clark), but that it's a 20th century invention. A teleological historiographical concept created (to simplify Clark substantially) in response to the horrors of the two world wars and (a point not made explicitly) Cold War, the decline of Empire, and the rapid social changes of the latter half of the century.
I'll confess that my attention wavered a bit during the middle bulk of the book, where Clark wades through a long succession of potential examples people may use to contest his central thesis (hence dropping a star). But while his repeated assertions that various people were operating independently of each other / actively rejected the ideas of others / didn't see themselves as part of a "movement" / never used the term "the Enlightenment" (capitalised and with a definite article), I see no real need for anyone to do so in order to be unconsciously part of a shift in socio-cultiral perspective.
But then, maybe that's just because I've been primed to think that way thanks to my historical training. Including in a university that employed one of the people who gets it with both barrels here - Jonathan Israel, he of the extensive Radical Enlightenment thesis.
Clark has done a good job of convincing me that Israel is perhaps stretching his argument too far. But then again, all you have to do is look at the number and size of Israel's many books on the subject published over the last quarter century to see that maybe he's trying a little bit too hard to make his case...
I do like books about historiography. And especially a book about historiography that's very happy to pick fights.and challenge preconceptions. This one achieved that goal perfectly - I'll leave it up to the people it attacks (well, those that are still alive) to respond to the core points and details of the arguments, because I lack the detailed knowledge.
At its core, though, the main point strikes me as very sound - when is a trend or a movement really a trend or a movement? Just because we give something a label doesn't make it exist. And correlation is not causation, nor are patterns evidence of conscious connection - they could be coincidence. It's the job of the historian to apply critical thinking to such claims - not to adopt them as unthinking shorthand in ways that impose narrative links between things that may not actually have had any connections between them.
This was a middle of the road book for me. I got it on a audiobook via NetGalley and it was very cute. I don’t know that I would read it again, but it was definitely worth a try.