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.