This post is intended to very briefly describe a project I am about halfway
through - that seeks to experiment with the new permeability that digital
technologies seem to make possible - to create a more usable 'history from below', made up of lives knowable only through small fragments of information.
This
particular project is called ‘Voices of Authority’, and is a small part of a
larger AHRC funded project – The Digital Panopticon – that is seeking to
digitise and link up the records reflecting everyone tried in London between
around 1780 and 1875, and either sent to prison, or else transported to
Australia. This small element of the wider project is bringing together a series of different ways of knowing
about a particular place, time and experience – the Old Bailey courtroom from
around 1750-1850, and the experience of being tried for your life and for your liberty. The conceit behind this project, is really a
suggestion that building something in three dimensions, with space, physical
form and performance, along with new forms of analysis of text; can change how
we understand the experience of the trial process; and to allow a more fully empathetic engagement with defendants; along with a better understanding of how their experience impacted on the exercise of power and authority.
This project is only half completed – so this is very much a report of 'work in progress'. But, in essence, what seeks to do is bring together three distinct
different forms of ‘data’ and to re-organise that data around individual defendants.
First, it
takes the text of the Old Bailey Proceedings – the trial accounts of some
197,745 trials held between 1674 and 1913, and recognises them as comprising
two different and distinct things – a bureaucratic record of the trials
themselves (names, verdicts, punishments); and at the same time, one of the largest corpora of recorded spoken language
created prior to the twentieth century – some 40 million words of direct, recorded
testimony for the period under analysis.
These
understandings of the Proceedings are, of course, built on projects of much
longer duration; including the OldBailey Online, and more particularly, on Magnus Huber’s additional linguistic
mark-up of the Proceedings, which allows ‘speech’ to be pulled from the trial
text, and to identify the speaker along the way. This is available via the Old Bailey Corpus.
The project also builds on text and data mining
methodologies – including direct counting of word and phrase distributions, and the
application of a form of explicit semantic analysis, that allows us to look at
the changing character of language used in witness statements over the course
of the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries.
In other
words, the first element of the project is the text and speech, crimes, punishments and dates provided by the Old Bailey Proceedings.
The second element is the body of the criminal - the physical body of the individual men and women involved. The broader project is creating a dataset of some 66,000 men and women – with substantial and detailed
information about their lives, both before and after transportation or
imprisonment – reflecting the inter-relationship between the people who became
defendants and criminals with the systems of a global empire. And this material provides a huge amount of data about bodies –
to add to the words individuals spoke to power.
Height, weight, eye colour, tattoos among a range of other aspects of a physical self. Suddenly, we know if a collection of words
was spoken by a ten stone, 5 foot two inch woman with brown hair and black
eyes, and a withered left arm; or by a six foot man with an anchor tattoo on
his left arm, and a scar above squinting blue eyes.
To think about it another
way, this bit of the ‘project’, allows us to worry about the ragged boundary
between the ‘physical’ as recorded in a set of numerical and standardised
descriptions, and the ‘textual’ – the slippery and ambiguous content of each
witness statement.
In relation to ‘history from below’, this allows
us to put together the lives of people like William Curtis, who as a 16 year
old, in the summer of 1843, had a perfectly healthy tooth pulled, before
stealing the dentists’ coat. And Sarah Durrant, who
was convicted for receiving two banks notes worth 2000 pounds. It all allows us to know
their words (their textualities), and at the same time to see them as part of a
different kind of truth – of place and body.
The aspiration is to essentially code for the variabililties
of body type at scale, to add a further dimension to both the records of the
bureaucracy of trials (charge, verdict punishment), and the measurable content
of the textualities of those same trials.
And finally, we are
adding one additional dimension – space – a ‘scene of trial’.
For this we are first of
all building on a project called Locating London’s Past, which among other
things, maps crime locations on to the historic landscape of London. And to this we are adding
a reconstruction of the courtroom, where all these trials took place.
Simply using Sketch-up, we have made most progress on the George Dance’s building, finished in the late
1770s and providing the main venue for the relevant trials for the next hundred
years – basing the models on the architectural plans from which it was
built.
In the process of creating this model, huge amounts of imformation about trial procedure has been revealed, including the changing layout of
the court, and the relative position of the different speakers. The design itself reflects a hitherto unacknowledged transition in the character of how witnesses and defendants were
divided in this evolving space, evidencing a new story of the evolution
of the criminal trial.
The architecture itself, suggests that there was a clear transition from a situation in which witnesses and victims stood in a similar relation to the judge and jury (both facing the judge, relatively close to one another); to one - like a modern anglo-american courtroom - where the judge and witnesses are on one side, and the defendant on the opposite side of the courtroom. In other words, the character of the adversarial relationship at the core of the adversarial trial was re-defined, with the witnesses and victim re-located on the either side of the argument, and the judges role, redefined as arbiter between them. At some level, in the process community resolution was replaced by court judgement.
If you want to explain why conviction
rates at the Old Bailey rose from under 50% in the mid eighteenth century, to
over eighty percent at the end of the nineteenth century, starting from
precisely the moment when the courtroom was rebuilt, this ‘fact on the ground’
needs to be part of the story.
What has also been revealed is the importance of levels – with lawyers speaking upwards to the judge, jury, witnesses and defendant, from a cock-pit several feet below their eye level. Like a theatre audience, the judge, jury and defendant looked down on the stage below. In other words, what was created, at least for a short time (70 years), was the real feel of a ‘theatre’ in which, as a barrister, you were forced to perform to the gods.
Looking forwarding to
the next stage, this particular sub-project is seeking to move from the ‘art’ of making and performance, through a
humanist and historical appreciation of ‘experience’, towards the tools of
social science and informatics – seeking to combine the close reading of a
single desperate plea, with the empathy that can only come with physical
knowledge, with that macroscopic image of all the similar words spoken over a
hundred years – how that one plea fits in a universe of words and bodies. And all of this, is in turn, being undertaken in pursuit of a more nuanced and empathetic engagement with the lives of working people - both for its own sake, and as part of a new analysis of the workings of power 'from below'.
With luck, this will allow us to move beyond a simple analysis of the courtroom, and the ‘adversarial trial’ - to an analysis through which we can see the whole system from the defendants’ perspectiv.
With luck, this will allow us to move beyond a simple analysis of the courtroom, and the ‘adversarial trial’ - to an analysis through which we can see the whole system from the defendants’ perspectiv.
In other words, the next
step is about creating a history of the British criminal justice system, and of
transportation from an experiential perspective on a large scale – contributing
to a history of common human experience, evidenced
from the distributed leavings of the dead, analysed with all the approaches
available to hand, from all the perspectives available.