Prologue to An Invitation to Accounting History by David Forrester

Prologue to An Invitation to
Accounting History by David Forrester

by Dr Esteban Hernandez Esteve of
Madrid, Spain

Foreword; Times of change and
subjectivity; Accounting History and Social Science; New
Accounting History; Its temptations of – Originality;
Exclusivity; Dogmatism;Utilitarianism; Undervaluing events;
Bureaucratisation; Methodological reductionism; Thematic
reductionism; Reductionism of Time; Linguistic reductionism.
Final recommendation.

I am honoured to have been invited to write the prologue
to this book containing sixteen papers by David Forrester, an old
friend of mine and, above all, one of the members of that
magnificent group of pioneers -Raymond de Roover, Federigo Melis,
Basil S. Yamey, Paul Garner, Ernest Stevelinck, Carlo Antinori,
Pierre Jouanique and so many others- who have worked so hard in
the second half of this century to give accounting history real
scientific substance and, thus, to put it in the place
corresponding to it in the concert of historical disciplines, a
goal which is coming closer every day.

The works in this book are the summary and exposition of
a life devoted to researching and teaching accounting history,
and cover many facets and aspects of the discipline, which can be
ultimately grouped in the three broad categories indicated by the
author himself: research on recording methods and accounting
information; studies on accounting as an instrument for managing
and controlling enterprise; and works on the theories, schools
and accounting approaches of the more or less distant
past.

The diversity of the subjects addressed in the papers
selected from amongst the thirty-seven works written by the
author on accounting history since 1968, according to the list at
the end of the book, reflects David Forrester"s wide and
versatile intellectual curiosity. Thus, here we have historical
accounting studies related in some way with the philosophy of
history; with the ideas of the Enlightenment; with the
legislation and movements of mercantile coding; with the
university models and the methods of financial control and
auditing used by university institutions; with the origin of the
accounting profession based on a triple association – that of the
accountants or bookkeepers as such, that of the scriveners, and
that of the notaries; with the beginnings and reasons for the
practice of printed Financial Reports, etc., clearly evidencing
David Forrester"s enormous range of scientific capacities and
interests. This is clear evidence of his belonging to the group
of modern pioneers of accounting history we referred to earlier.
Precisely because they profess humanist ideals, because they are
themselves convinced humanists, these pioneers were capable of
perceiving that the birth of double-entry accounting was the
product of the same Renaissance spirit that had inspired so many
works of art and so many architectural jewels, but also so many
mercantile and financial innovations, such as the bill of
exchange, the cheque, transport insurance, sedentary commerce,
great international banking, with a network of correspondents in
all the important markets, and, above all, so many original and
renovative ideas about the meaning of life and the revaluation of
man"s human dimension. Indeed, the men of the Renaissance were
equally fascinated by the novelties, the study of perspective,
for example, or the harmonious combination of proportions offered
them, -in a sea of emotions gained from the observation and
comprehension of the works from the recovered classical past- as
by the means and mechanisms invented by merchants to control and
more effectively manage their businesses. All the fruits of human
ingenuity equally aroused their enthusiasm and admiration. Luca
Pacioli, for example, the great compiler and divulger of
double-entry techniques, was a great expert in all of these
matters, apart from being a great mathematician. Much has been
said of the artistic and intellectual Renaissance, whereas the
mercantile Renaissance, which is just as interesting and worthy
of admiration, has hardly been dealt with. For, when all is said
and done, it was the riches provided by Renaissance merchants
that financed and facilitated the advent and development of the
artistic and intellectual Renaissance.

That was how the modern pioneers of accounting history
understood it and, taking this Renaissance spirit upon
themselves, they undertook their accounting history research,
knowing that their discipline was much more than the study of the
evolution of bookkeeping techniques -which, however, they did not
neglect either, cultivating it with care- as their research might
provide magnificent knowledge about the concept of enterprise,
about the manner of understanding business, about the state of
management techniques and the means employed to control the work
of factors and branches at each moment in time. All of this
without, of course, forgetting the study of the economic, social
and political context in which accounting developed, or the
investigation of the relationship between accounting and this
context, or the influence exercised by accounting in the shaping
of new forms of social and institutional organisation. Now that
so much importance is fortunately lent to this sociological
dimension of accounting, which is welcomed as a product of the
new trends of accounting history research, it should not be
forgotten that, many years ago, Raymond de Roover underlined the
important role played by double-entry in the Commercial
Revolution of the 13th century, i.e. in transforming itinerant
trade into sedentary commerce, based on a network of
correspondents, factories and branches, which put an end to the
formerly crucial Champagne fairs and the hegemony of the Flemish
merchants. Or that Werner Sombart, the renowned economic
historian, had some years earlier classified double-entry
accounting – perhaps exaggerating to some extent- as a sine
qua non condition for the appearance of
capitalism.

Thus then, David Forrester belongs, as we said, to this
select group of pioneers who have made accounting history what it
is today. In this respect, David Forrester is a kind of rara
avis in today"s large group of English-speaking accounting
historians. As is well-known and will later be discussed in
greater detail, this group (the same as other English-speaking
groups involved in the cultivation of other sciences), taking
advantage of the widespread use of the English language
throughout the world, tends to turn in upon itself and only
concern itself with problems that affect its linguistic territory
which thus refer to the period of time when accounting themes
take on importance in their respective countries. Generally
speaking, the members of this group do not seem to be very
interested in learning languages. Sheltered in their own
environment, which is undoubtedly one of extensive high-quality
scientific production, they neither know nor mention works
written in languages other than English and indeed behave as if
the studies not written in their language either fail to exist or
are not science. This surprises no one in their cultural
environment and they are not called to account for their partial
and limited conception of science. They start their scientific
career, they publish their work, they obtain a chair and win
awards and gain a reputation, while possibly never having read a
single work that is not published in English, but nobody
reproaches them for it or criticises their limitations. And what
is even more surprising is that scientists from other linguistic
areas accept this situation and, doubtlessly out of good taste,
do not reproach or criticise them for this serious deficiency
either. Everyone seems to accept that English is, today, the only
scientific language or the scientific language par
excellence.

Within this context, David Forrester, with his language
skills and his intellectual curiosity about European culture in
general, really is an exceptional case, as corresponds to his
humanistic disposition. His interest in Europe started with his
history studies at the Universities of Saint Andrews and Oxford
and was later consolidated, in academic year 1950-51, when he
frequented the lecture halls of the University of Göttingen.
A further logical product (fruit of his studies at this German
university) is his ability to correctly speak and read German. He
also speaks and reads French and Italian. His knowledge of
languages is evident in the subjects researched, and in the
references in different languages in his bibliographies. A really
unusual case in the English-speaking group to which he belongs,
as we said earlier.

In other aspects of his life and scientific activity
David Forrester is also an unusual and even somewhat eccentric
character. For instance, my children have not really seen him on
a regular basis, but they remember him perfectly, and have very
fond and pleasant memories of him, because of his strong,
attractive, original personality. His lack of concern about the
usual forms and conventions for presenting scientific papers and
documents is amusing and picturesque, although this has made him
a little unpopular with those who examine the bottle more closely
than the wine inside. It is true that, on occasion, the formal
aspects of the presentation of his work might be faulted for a
little carelessness, but in the treatment of the subjects chosen,
in their methodological development, in the exposition of his
conclusions, Forrester has always been faithful to the classical
canons of historical research: the preferential use of primary
sources; maximum possible objectivity in the description and
analysis o f the events studied; the insertion of these events in
the relevant context; the search for causal and collateral
relations between event and their context; the interpretation of
events, always making a clear distinction between the event
itself, as we can know, describe and analyse it, and our own
opinions and interpretations of the event, its causes and
reasons, its effects . . . Of course, he, like all of us, has
always been aware of the impossibility of fully achieving these
goals. There is an element of subjectivity in the very choice of
the events to be investigated. If we hardly ever know all the
facts about the present, as their circumstances, reasons and
meaning are concealed from us, how can we aim to know about the
events of the past on the basis of a few indications which are
often no more than the tip of the iceberg? Where is the would-be
objectivity, that noble dream, as Peter Novick ironically refers
to it? All the same, there is an essential difference between
those who are totally unconcerned about objectivity, as some are
today, with the pretext that it can never be completely and
immediately achieved, and those who are aware of this
impossibility and the reasons for it, but aspire to attaining the
maximum objectivity possible, i.e. the highest possible level of
transmissibility of knowledge, so that we may all know how the
events studied occurred, although we know that this does not give
us absolutely reliable or definitive knowledge. Forrester is
amongst this second group of researchers.

Indeed, throughout his long and fruitful life as an
accounting historian, David Forrester has known how to resist the
temptations of modernity and remain faithful, as I said, to the
classic canons of historical research. This has not been easy in
the times in which we live, where powerful iconoclastic currents
offer a wealth of easy opportunities to jump onto the bandwagon
of modernity and so-called progressionism, thus freeing oneself
of accusations of being old-fashioned and lacking
aggiornamento. Of course, it is easier to resist these
temptations when one is established and has an extensive research
curriculum.

Taking into account David Forrester"s characteristics,
his strong personality and, above all, our long-standing
friendship, I hope to be forgiven for not writing a prologue to
his book that is conventional or about circumstances, but, in
contrast, in due homage to its author, for preferring to include
and give overall shape to some very personal reflections which I
have mentioned on a wide variety of occasions in different places
in the past few years.

* * *

Throughout history there have been times when Humanity
has looked at itself through periods in the immediate or remote
past, has admired their ideas or approaches or at least found
them satisfactory, and, suitably adapting or developing them, has
attempted to apply them to its present. This attitude is not
necessarily conservative. No one could rightly say that the
Italian Renaissance was a conservative time and yet its
characteristic feature was the enthusiastic rediscovery of the
classical world and the recovery and application of many of its
criteria and ideas about life. Another era of this same type is
possibly when the Ancient Romans absorbed the fundamental aspects
of Greek culture. Yet another example, outside our Western
cultural cycle, is to be found in the authentic veneration the
Aztecs felt towards the culture of the Toltecs, a people who
preceded them in the dominion of Mexico.

There are, in contrast, periods that are characterised
by totally opposite attitudes. The era in which we live today is
one of them. No one can say exactly how or why present ideas have
arisen. Perhaps the impressive technical advances achieved in a
relatively short space of time have led to the overvaluation of
man"s capacity to organise himself and coexist better. Perhaps
the extrapolation of democratic ideals to spheres to which they
do not belong has revived anarchist beliefs. Perhaps the old
Marxist desire to destroy the existing capitalist order by
undermining all types of bourgeois institutions and values to
create a new, more just and happier order also has something to
do with the present situation. Or, it might simply be a case of
being tired of always professing the same ideas and of wanting to
breathe new fresher airs.

Whatever it may be, what is true is that we are living
in times of cultural crisis, of renewal and a desire for change,
of bettering the old scheme of things. The general attitude seems
to be a lack of appreciation and mistrust of inherited patterns.
Scepticism about old beliefs is one of the most notorious
manifestations of this attitude, a scepticism which is, however,
accompanied by a disconcerting tendency to believe in new,
unusual exotic ideas. We are immersed in a cultural atmosphere
dominated by out-and-out subjectivism. This expansion of
subjectivism makes the autonomy of the individual sovereign,
maintains that all ideas and opinions are equally respectable and
valuable, claims everyone can do as they wish, without having to
account to anyone, provided they do not hurt others. This
principle, which may be valid in the field of justice, can have
disastrous consequences outside it, in art, morals or science. A
product of this subjectivism is the refusal to admit to the
existence of objective criteria which are valid in themselves,
because no authority is considered to be capable of establishing
them. Everything is argued over, everything is questioned, no
authority of any type is accepted gracefully. Thus, the fiercest
but also most interested relativism prevails. Nothing is worth it
for its own sake, but everything is worth it if it suits us. The
destruction of criteria, which may be well-founded or arbitrary,
but generally accepted, has led to confusion and to ill winds,
not only in many aspects of personal life but also of collective
life. Even the very possibility of objective knowledge is argued
and questioned, as we said. As result of this confusion and the
generalised belief that there are no criteria which are
objectively valid in themselves, values that otherwise could not
have prevailed have been imposed. Originality is one of them.
Indeed, originality, the search for which as from 1860 and 1880
was recently criticised and described by Julián
Marías, one of José Ortega y Gasset"s favourite
disciples, has become a common goal of our times; in fact, it has
become a real objective per se in the field of both
intellectual and artistic activities. Another of the distinctive
features of this state of confusion and loss of values is the
appearance of open shameless individualism and utilitarianism,
which is perfectly logical and consistent with the lack of faith
in moral values and values of a nobler nature. What we believe
suits us and is immediately of material use is valid. However,
never before today has there been so much talk of solidarity, the
secular version of Christian charity. But, as the Castilian
refrain goes: "Tell me what you boast about and I"ll tell you
what you lack".

This situation should not, however, make us pessimistic.
It is true that for Johann Wolfgang von Goethe, as he said to his
friend and confident Johann Peter Eckermann, " all periods of
retrocession and dissolution reveal subjective tendencies, while,
on the contrary, progressive times take an objective direction".
It is very possible that the ideas of the famous German thinker
were correct, but I do not believe, as he would probably not
believe either, that everything in these dislocating and
iconoclastic movements is negative. The fact that they occur may
even be good in itself, as it may be the only way that culture
can rid itself of undesired disfiguring adherences accumulated
over centuries. This may be the way Humanity moves forward:
through upheavals that force us to pause on the road and rethink
basic questions. But, when these upheavals occur, these
cataclysms, marking the possibility of new and better ideas on a
higher level, bring times of confusion and disorientation, where
it is difficult to know which way to turn.

Obviously, the social sciences, and amongst them of
course history, have been involved in and seriously affected by
these iconoclastic and renovative movements, movements which have
aroused a bitter and passionate debate over epistemology and the
methodology of science in general and history in particular,
giving rise to concepts and approaches which are radically
opposed to traditional ideas. In a paper presented at the
"Conference On the Preparation of an Accounting History in
Spain", held at "La Cristalera" Residence at Madrid"s Universidad
Autónoma on 24 and 26 September 1992, I described and
emphasised the great epistemological and methodological debate
which is taking place at the heart of world historiography. This
discussion has broken with, or at least questioned, the classic
concepts of historiography, such as the attributes of
objectivity, rationality, non-temporality and universality that
were required of history, to start to consider it as simply an
intellectual activity with contingent local and historical
results, i.e. only valid for a certain moment and certain
historical circumstances. The irruption of new criteria has, for
the moment, created great confusion at the heart of
historiography, since, according to these criteria, any new idea
or approach may be valid. In view of this situation, it is hardly
surprising that one of the principal animators of the
historiographical debate, Peter Novick, who I referred to
earlier, sums it up by referring to a passage from the Bible: "At
that time there was no king in Israel and everyone did as they
wished" (Book of Judges, 21, 24).

Neither is accounting history, which has received an
extraordinary impulse in the last two decades, alien to the
crisis of values and ideas taking place in the world today. Quite
the contrary. Indeed, it seems that the absorption of new
epistemological and methodological ideas about history in
general, with its vivifying effect, is to a large extent
responsible for the current boom in accounting history. Due to
this absorption, it has called itself "new accounting history" in
order to distinguish itself from "traditional accounting
history". However, in spite of its name, "new accounting history"
is not really a school or single body of doctrine, but a varied
set of approaches and ways of understanding the discipline, which
are often very different from each another. However, they do
share common ideas and tendencies which include the new
non-conformist ideas and mean that this set of approaches and
ideas is distinguished, according to their followers, from the
traditional ways in which accounting history had been understood
and practised. According to these followers, the distinction
starts in the very conception and object of the discipline. In
effect, according to Carnegie and Napier, at the outset
accounting history was conceived as a way of fomenting and
glorifying the practice of bookkeeping and the professional
status of bookkeepers. Later, a more utilitarian approach
emerged; this contemplated the past as a data base which could
serve to facilitate comprehension of contemporary accounting
practices and identify past solutions that could be useful in
resolving present problems. Finally, a more critical approach
appeared which aims to understand the past of accounting from the
standpoint of social and political theories. This last
conception, which is more modern and complete, is that openly
professed by "new accounting history".

According to this conception, the principal
distinguishing features of the " new history" with respect to
"traditional history" were summarised by Richard K. Fleischman,
Lawrence P. Kalbers and Lee D. Parker as follows:

1. The new ideas have extended the field of accounting
history research, including a number of methodologies and a
variety of theoretical approaches, with the appearance of new
disciplines and new problems.

2. There is less concern about historical facts, due to
the need to present a narration of what really occurred. New
accounting historians proclaim emancipation from facts. A
different emphasis is given to relations, to logical patterns, to
ideologies and to interpretations verified by means of facts,
rather than deriving from them.

3. Changes in accounting history are not evolutive or in
linear progression. The methodological innovations cover the
whole range of influxes deriving from a national culture at each
specific moment in history.

Along the same lines, Yannick Lemarchand recently
summarised the characteristic features of "new accounting
history" even more briefly and drastically; in the opinion of its
proselytes, these features are the following two: In the first
place, the loss of faith in the possibility of achieving
objectivity in the study and description of historical events.
Secondly, the abandoning of this sort of accounting history
Darwinism, which consists of believing that accounting, like
other human activities, is subject to a more or less linear
process of continual progress, motivated by the needs to adapt to
the requirements of the environment. The supporters of "new
accounting history" doubt the existence of this evolutive process
towards progress and, on the contrary, postulate that what is
significant, what should be studied with greater emphasis, are
not evolutive changes, but situations of breaking, of
interruption, of retrocession. Moreover, they do not feel that
adapting accounting to th e requirements of the outside world is
as important as the way in which accounting has helped and
continues to help to influence its environment and, hence,
contributes to the shaping and evolution of this
world.

Obviously, this last conception responds to the idea
that accounting should not simply be studied as a technique, but
as an element for shaping the social and organisational framework
of society. Michel Foucault"s ideas have been of special
importance in the adoption of these approaches, since they have
influenced nearly all the members of "new accounting history" in
one way or another; they have had such a strong impact on some of
them that they have become a specific group within the whole. In
the context we are looking at, the ideas of Foucault which have
had the greatest effect on new accounting historians in general
are those related to the relationship between knowledge and power
and to the disciplining of today"s society. Since Humanity burst
out of the corset of authoritarian governments in the 18th
century to assert the ideals of freedom, society has had to
gradually work out the way of disciplining its members.
Accounting forms part of this process, which Foucault illustrates
on the basis of Jeremy Bentham"s Panopticon, i.e. this
circular prison where the warders can see and supervise the
prisoners without being seen, so that the prisoners feel as if
they are constantly being watched. Management accounting provides
the Foucaultians with a patent example of this process within the
context of accounting, since this system makes it possible to
observe the functioning of the entire organisation and ensure
permanent vigilance and control of its workers" behaviour and
output. Naturally, for the Foucaultians, management accounting
has not been developed for reasons of pure economic rationality,
but rather as a result of the never openly professed search for
ways of disciplining, controlling and supervising
society.

Moreover, the fall and rejection of the so-called "dream
of objectivity" has reduced the importance of the pure exposition
of accounting history facts and has changed the new historian"s
attitude towards them. As Miller and his colleagues explain, it
is no longer a case of "letting the facts explain themselves", as
traditional historians postulated, but of formulating a
priori interpretations which can be verified by facts,
rather than allowing the facts to establish the interpretations
deriving from themselves. Theoretical reflection should, thus,
precede the search for and the compilation of facts. To do the
opposite would mean committing the well-known sin of "
antiquarianism" for which the new accounting historians reproach
traditionalists, whether or not it is relevant. In other words,
the collection and description of facts for vain erudition,
without attempting to interpret them or find an explication and
meaning for them within the context of history.

As mentioned above, the basic conceptions of "new
accounting history" are no more than the more or less linear
transposition of the ideas toyed with in the modern discussion
about historiography. With these ideas, new accounting historians
have tried to break out of their isolation from other historical
disciplines and thus join the lively debates on the subject, from
their own field of study. In this way, steps are starting to be
taken so that the ironic, but enormously accurate words
pronounced by Paul Garner at the 1980 London Congress, in the
middle of a heated discussion full of self-exaltation and much
mutual trumpet-blowing, after an exposition that underlined the
importance and achievements of accounting history, are no longer
defining or in place. This is what the renowned historian said:
"But, do any of you really believe that we would be admitted to
an exclusive club of historians?". The rhetorical question came
as a wet damper to the enthused participants, but some of us
could not help thinking that his words had been very opportune
and had served to put things in their place.

Although my training as an economic historian, acquired
after studying for several years at the Seminar für
Sozial- und Wirtschaftsgeschichte der Universität zu
Köln, directed by my unforgettable teacher Hermann
Kellenbenz, was largely classical, as is logical, since it was
inspired by the model of the traditional German history school, I
believe that we should be pleased to welcome the postulates of
"new accounting history", understood in the sense of a complement
to and enrichment of the old patterns, and not as a revolutionary
approach which must necessarily annul and completely replace the
old ideas, as some of its followers tend to believe. There can be
no doubt that the new ideas have brought a breath of fresh air
and have helped us to reflect on the need to purify or simply
discard past ideas which are inadequate or degenerated and
already worn out from use. Thanks to the new ideas, the field of
accounting history research has become broader and the repertory
of subjects to be dealt with, and the approaches to them, have
increased notably. In this respect, greater contextualisation of
research has been fomented; in other words, the more extensive
deeper insertion of the subjects studied into the context in
which they belong. An essential part of this purifying process
has corresponded to the principle of not judging the questions
studied from the references of the present , but from the
circumstances prevailing at the time, although this, in itself,
is an idea known of old, as occurs with some other ideas which
are ostensibly new. Of special importance is also the will to
incorporate the relevant theoretical apparatus into the study of
accounting history, as an essential part of the
contextualisation, evaluation and interpretation of the subjects
researched. It is clear that all of these ideas have opened up or
at least brought back up to date- new horizons for accounting
history, with prospects not as yet defined, but achieved not last
by surpassing the strict limiting concept of history deriving
from some specific techniques which were previously associated
with this discipline, although there was logically no shortage of
historians with a broader more enriching view, as I mentioned
earlier. Obviously, we do not know what the future holds in store
for accounting history conceived in the new way, but it will
foreseeably see its development linked to that of the history of
business and finance, within the broader framework of economic
and social history in general.

Mention was made earlier of the concept of
complementariness and enrichment with which, in my view, the
formulation of the postulates of "new accounting history" should
be regarded. In fact, as I mentioned earlier, firstly I do not
feel that all of the new formulae are as new and revolutionary as
is being claimed, and, secondly, that because of their advent,
all the old formulae and approaches to accounting history should
necessarily be discarded and replaced. Many of them could, and
should, live in perfect harmony with the new formulae, even if
they might need touching up or looking at with a new awareness.
Moreover, that is the usual way that science moves ahead: on the
basis of the reconciliation and accumulation of old elements with
new ones that renew them and give them a different air. However,
this does not seem to be the spirit that moves all the advocates
of "new accounting history", as also occurs with the supporters
of new historiographical approaches in general. The predominant
spirit seems to be quite the opposite, i.e. a spirit of
radicalisation, confrontation and antagonism towards traditional
accounting historians. It is, no doubt, a case of the need for
self-affirmation often accompanying new trends, which find no
better way of realising themselves than by attacking established
ideas. For this reason, although the fight between the advocates
of "new history" and the supporters of "traditional history" is
tough and tense, it acquires a somewhat contrived air, an air of
a set-up spectacle, and sounds rather hollow. To highlight the
radically novel nature the new historians seek to give their
contributions, they have created a discrediting rather Manichaean
stereotype for "traditional history", exaggerating its
deficiencies and limitations; the supporters of "traditional
history" have, in turn, defended themselves by creating an
equally exaggerated and inaccurate stereotype of the postulates
of "new history". Of course, the re are supporters of the two
trends who are conciliatory and wish to maintain the ideas and
practices of the old approaches so that these two major ways of
understanding accounting history can be integrated one with the
other. This integration will undoubtedly take place in time.
Moreover, there is no need for exaggeration either, since there
is no reason why the debate between the supporters of "new
accounting history" and those in favour of "traditional
accounting history" should be particularly harmful for the future
of the discipline, but in fact quite the contrary, because the
exchange of opinions helps to bring out ideas and, thus, useful
reflections generally come from the debate. However, there is
always the danger that, in the heat of the debate, the parties
involved are led to take up extreme positions which give rise to
bitter conflicts and do not bring anything positive.

For this reason, and even gladly accepting the relevance
and opportuneness of the basic postulates of "new accounting
history", I believe that a more moderate attitude from some of
its supporters towards inherited ideas would be desirable, so as
not to fall into dangers or temptations which, if they developed,
might vitiate the image and nature of the new ideas, pushing them
towards undesired courses that might provoke unnecessary feelings
of rejection. These risks and attitudes are not, on the other
hand, peculiar to "new accounting history", since they are
temptations which affect any new epistemological and
methodological approach that appears forcefully and powerfully.
But the truth is that they occur, and with even greater virulence
in the discussion held at the heart of historical disciplines in
general. In an attempt, which does not pretend to be exhaustive,
to define these dangers or temptations, as I call them to show
that they can be surmounted, I believe it is worth identifying
the ones mentioned below; in any event, it should be noted that
all of them are closely related to each other, since really, to a
large extent, they are different facets or angles of the same
phenomenon and even overlap at some points. This being so, they
could, no doubt, be reduced to only two or three, but I have
chosen to explain them one by one because all of them have their
own distinguishing features which are worthy of
mention.

1. The temptation of originality.

As I mentioned earlier, it seems that the search for
originality has become an end in itself in our world today. This
is also happening in the field of accounting history. There can
be no doubt that at a highly competitive time, a comparative
advantage comes from differentiating the product in order to
break away from market uniformity. Advertising is inspired by the
same principle. Thus, not only has it been considered necessary
to christen the new ideas with the name of "new accounting
history" in order to distinguish them from previous forms, but
also new groups are being created within these ideas with names
and addresses: Foucaultians, critical historians, postmodernists,
etc. History based on non-written sources has been given the name
of "oral accounting history". There is no need to panic.
Paradoxically, there is nothing original about this in itself.
The same thing happens in nearly all sectors of intellectual
activity and particularly in historical sciences. Neither is it
bad that each tiny new incipient trend should wish to identify
itself and distinguish itself from others. But it is worth asking
whether this is really necessary and whether waving a different
flag and giving themselves different names with the pretext of
applying some ideas, some thoughts, some new research criteria
-however renovative, complete and rigorous they may be-
contributes anything. Or rather, whether this has something to do
with the desire to stand out, to attract attention or to win
renown. In this sense, it may be that the temptation of
originality is related to the context described in what we
call temptation of bureaucratisation of accounting
history, which we will look at later on.

2. The temptation of exclusivity or
redemptorism.

The formulation of new ideas sometimes seems to be
carried out as if the new ways of understanding accounting
history work were the only ways possible. Some new accounting
historians seem tempted to believe that anything that is not done
according to the new ways of understanding the discipline has no
value. Thus, on occasion, one has the impression that there is no
interest in knowing about and appreciating the wealth of works
and knowledge left to us by our predecessors. It seems that the
real key to history work has only just been discovered. It also
seems that it is not enough to clearly see, thanks to the new
ideas, the direction accounting history as a whole should take.
No, all the work and research should be completely in line with
each and every one of the new ideas.

3. The temptation of dogmatism

This temptation is particularly linked to the one above,
since the dictates of exclusivity and redemptorism come from
dogmatism. One makes the rules oneself and then declares them to
be universally valid. If not, how can it be dictated which works
are of interest and which are not, by virtue of temporary value
judgements, which will not be eternally valid, but one would
expect to be renewed and perfected over the course of time? If
the current thinking had predominated in the last century, then
possibly the valuable "antiquarian" work carried out by the
historians of the time would never have been done. Of course, we
are talking about work conducted seriously, with scientific rigor
and probity, which brings novelties, either of sources or ideas,
within each person"s own way of understanding his
historiographical mission.

4. The temptation of utilitarianism.

As I mentioned earlier, the search for immediate
specific material usefulness, together with the desire for
originality and the refusal to accept any authority capable of
laying down objective criteria, which might restrict one"s own
freedom of action, are features common to practically all
activities in our world today. For this reason, I will take a
little longer to comment on this, since, in the field of "new
accounting history" too, there is a great deal of concern about
the fact that accounting history research may be useful to
professionals and academics in the world today. This notion of
usefulness underlies nearly all the temptations I am referring
to. This was precisely the main theme of the Symposium on
Accounting History held at the "21st Annual Congress of the
European Accounting Association", in Bordeaux on 5-7 May 1999. In
the ideas presented by John Richard Edwards, four reasons for
practising accounting history were examined and defended: 1.
Recreational. Man y academics and professionals in accounting,
together with intellectuals from other fields, were attracted to
research into accounting history out of sheer curiosity, simply
because, as Basil Yamey says, they enjoyed doing it. 2.
Intellectual or explanatory. Apart from its purely recreational
usefulness, Edwards believes that it has a practical use, since
it helps us to understand our past and enables us to appreciate
how our current practices and problems emerged. Obviously, he
recognises that, although there is a wealth of available
information, it is extremely unlikely that historians will ever
agree on how a specific piece of information should be
interpreted. 3. Predictive. This is a difficult and complicated
type of usefulness, because circumstances change, but it is true
that, on certain occasions, parallelisms can be traced and future
events predicted through accounting history. 4. Problem-solving.
This use of accounting history is also difficult and complicated,
which, according to Edwards, means that excessive emphasis should
not be placed on it, nor should too many expectations be raised
by it.

I would add a fifth use of accounting history to these
four. This fifth use has recently become very much in fashion,
because of the incorporation of theoretical elements and aspects
into accounting history research: the use of accounting history
as a verifier of social and institutional theories.

I personally feel that all these uses, which, according
to current generalized thought, justify research into accounting
history, can effectively occur in practice and if this is indeed
the case, they should be given a warm welcome. There are no
objections to this. But I also believe that, while we are so busy
listing them, we are overlooking the primary and fundamental
question, which is not considered and is none other than the
following: Does science, scientific knowledge, necessarily have
to be useful, i.e. does it have to have an immediate practical,
specific, material use? If all knowledge that apparently has no
use of this type were rejected, would not Humanity lose something
of infinite value? The German peoples, whose profound philosophy
and thought is accompanied by their well-known pragmatism, still
deeply esteem and admire what they call
Grundlagenforschung, i.e. the investigation of the
foundations, which is precisely the research they believe to be
the most difficult and the most valuable. Aware as I am that I
must be quite alone in this position, I am ashamed to confess
that the current preoccupation with anxiously seeking at all
costs a use for accounting history research seems to me to be
rather puerile and misrepresents real scientific vocation, since
it seeks a superfluous justification. Of course, I am not against
accounting history studies having or possibly having a practical
and specific use. I said that earlier. However, I do disagree
with the idea that this usefulness is per se the
justification for studying it, for undertaking research with the
sole idea of making it useful.

Moreover, in this respect, the same thing happens as
with the temptation of dogmatism. In this field, who can
define what is useful in absolute terms? Will what is today
defined as useful in terms of some temporary subjective thinking
be useful for tomorrow"s scholars? Or what is more important,
will the study of what we are rejecting as useless today, by
virtue of the very ideas we have invented, be useless for future
researchers? No, historiographical work cannot be done or not
done because of the usefulness we attribute to it at any given
moment. Its immediate specific material usefulness is unimportant
for historical research and cannot be its model and its object.
Its mainstay is not its would-be usefulness, but its rigor and
its search for veracity, however difficult it may be to establish
the degree of accomplishment of these criteria.

Although I may find it unimportant, not essential, for
there to be an immediate perceptible specific use for scientific
knowledge and, in particular, for accounting history research,
this in no way implies that I am denying that history is useful.
Quite the contrary, I am absolutely convinced of its usefulness,
but for me its usefulness is not, generally speaking, material
and practical, but of a general cognitive nature, imperceptible
and unidentifiable in the majority of cases. I believe that the
events of today are, to a large extent, the result of the
thoughts, decisions and events of the past. In this respect, I
believe that the present cannot be correctly understood if we
make no effort to find about the past, since it is there that the
roots of our ideas, our way of being and thinking and our acts
are to be found. This was understood and masterfully expounded by
José Ortega y Gasset, the renowned Spanish philosopher who
was educated in Germany. He found the key to understanding and
explaining man, man and his circumstance, in historical reason,
or vital reason as he called it, the basis of all his philosophy.
According to him, man cannot be accurately explained if he is
separated from the context which surrounds him, of which history
forms an essential part. Thus, history, that is, knowing about
the past, is fundamental if man and society are be aware of their
own identity. This was also recently understood by Michel
Foucault; for him, history is not a discipline of the past but of
the present, i.e. in full force in the present, since its object
is to reconstruct the path followed to arrive at where we are
today, to be who we are. The most complete knowledge possible
about this present is the justification, the raison
d´être, the essence of history. But, in any
event, neither do I believe that the search for this generic
usefulness should worry us when it comes to undertaking and
carrying out research. Historical research is a question of a
desire for knowledge, rather than a search for usefulness, even
if the uses are of a noble order. I am afraid that it is an
ontological question, a matter of principle. But the fact is
that, also, if we did not act in this way, we would run the risk
of conducting a zielorientierte Forschung – in other
words, research dominated by a specific objective, with the risk
of our biasing it without realising we are doing so.

5. The temptation of undervaluing the study and
description of events.