For about three years, I spent much of my free time reading century-old Hibbing newspapers on a microfilm machine in my basement. Please don’t throw your undies, ladies; it’s not as sexy as it sounds. My book research took on added meaning as I slowly absorbed the sensibilities of the 1910s and ‘20s.
After a while, I felt like a traveling salesman holed up in a Pine Street hotel. Too broke to move on, I spent my free time with the daily newspapers, a nickel apiece. Free, if you fished them out of the trash bin.
“The past is a foreign country; they do things differently there,” wrote author L.P. Hartley. I found that to be true. Whenever you visit a new place, it helps to have a guide. My guides to this past version of my hometown were newspaper writers. Their work provided perspective lacking from the all-knowing encyclopedias and textbooks.
These old editors and reporters were right about a lot of things, but I learned just as much when they were wrong.
After a lifetime of hearing about asbestos abatement, it was ironic to read about this great new economical multipurpose insulation being sprayed all over the new buildings back in the old days. Blood transfusions were a wonderful new medical breakthrough, but when a doctor at the Rood Hospital had six random bus drivers give direct transfusions to a sick widowed mother, no thought was given to blood type. Compared to streets full of horse manure, cars seemed to usher in an era of fresh air. The people of the past had their reasons and a lot less information than we have today.
We may read about the hardships of the past — the spartan homes, early deaths, prejudice and structural discrimination — and remark about the progress. Our homes and apartments are bigger and more comfortable than last century. Thanks to medical technology and vaccines, everyone lives longer. More people can work. Work is much less dangerous than before. And yet, we do not feel better, do we? Every time I talk about history, people tell me they wish they could go back.
Trust me, you don’t. Statistically, you’d already be dead. But it would be beneficial to look at our present days from the standpoint of history. What would a researcher — another traveling salesperson from the future — learn from our newspapers and internet records?
We ache under the weight of new technology. Personal computing devices that didn’t exist in 2000 now rule the lives of nearly everyone in 2025. Technology moves so fast that it’s obsolete before most people can afford it.
Reading is collapsing. Most people do not read books and will not read this column. Some do (obviously, here you are), but the decline of writing and reading will dramatically impact how we lock in knowledge gains over coming years. What we read is also changing. The general public doesn’t read the same books or websites anymore.
We are lonely. It begins with how much time we spend by ourselves, far more with each passing year. But even in the company of others, we isolate ourselves on personal devices. The amount of time spent with friends in physical spaces is waning. We make fun of old TV shows for their outdated technology and fashions, but that’s only the surface. Far fewer people spend time after work at a bar like “Cheers” or coffee shop like Central Perk in “Friends.” All those casual friendships are gone. Church attendance is more rare and some can work an 8-hour day without talking to anyone.
Working out is gaining popularity. Physical health is considered a virtue in a new way, though the pressure to look good and “feel good” like people online is a factor in this. Obesity is still getting worse overall, and deaths of despair (suicide and drug overdose) have American life expectancy going down for the first time in modern memory.
We just don’t know how this will go. It feels like the world is backsliding on high concepts like empathy, learning and critical thinking skills. The changes we are experiencing surely have something to do with it.
Perhaps with the knowledge of the problem, we might experience coming years with a spirit of problem solving. Instead of doubling down on what makes us sick, we could adapt — just as people did 100 years ago.
In history, we hold the hands of our descendants not yet born. Where will we guide them? Let them be amused by our clothing, slang and foolish dreams. But take it from a person who’s visited the past, we do not want them to be ashamed of the way we treated each other.
Aaron J. Brown is an author and college instructor from northern Minnesota’s Iron Range. He writes the blog MinnesotaBrown.com. This piece first appeared in the Saturday, Feb. 22, 2025 edition of the Mesabi Tribune.
So right. I took a minute to picture the Cheers or Friends crews staring at phones. Appreciate that little gut check. Can we get off of ’em? Let’s see.
History is truly a movable object, constantly interpreted and reinterpreted. Often times in ways to promote a particular conception or idea for the future. Sadly, manipulating our conceptions of the past can sometimes lead us in the wrong direction. The recent presidential election was won, perhaps, by distorting the past