It is nearly the end of the year, a time that naturally lends itself to reflection. I rarely talk about the podcast itself—the medium is supposed to be the vehicle, not the subject—but after 13 years, I feel it is important to discuss what Explaining History is, and perhaps more importantly, what it is not.

When I started this project, I was a history teacher in Wales. It began as a “flipped learning” experiment—a way for students to absorb knowledge at home so we could focus on analysis in class. I never expected it to grow into a platform where I could interview world-renowned academics or reach thousands of listeners across the globe.

The Problem with “Edutainment”

If you search for history podcasts today, the charts are dominated by what I call “history entertainment.” These are well-researched, often very funny shows that tell great stories. I have nothing against them, but that is not what I do.

I believe there is a moral hazard in reducing history to entertainment, particularly when dealing with the traumas of the 20th century. When we treat the Second World War as a series of exciting commando raids, or the Holocaust as a source of prurient fascination, we risk stripping the victims of their humanity. We reduce real suffering to content.

My goal has always been to explain—to dig into the structural forces that shape our world. Why did the Axis powers lose WWII? Not because of a few bad decisions by Hitler, but because of the overwhelming economic and industrial might of the Allies. Why did American living standards explode in the 1950s? Not because of “American exceptionalism,” but because the rest of the industrial world had been destroyed, leaving the US with a monopoly on manufacturing.

Against the “Great Man”

This structural approach puts me at odds with the “Great Man” theory of history so beloved by television documentaries. The narrative that “it was a dark time, and then one man stood up” is a comforting fairy tale. It suggests that complex problems can be solved by charismatic individuals, rather than by addressing deep-seated economic and social inequities.

This “happy ever after” fallacy—the idea that the Civil Rights Movement fixed racism, or that the fall of the Berlin Wall ended history—undermines our ability to understand the present. If we think the battles have been won, we stop fighting them.

A Community of Thought

The greatest privilege of this podcast has been the community it has created. I am a socialist in my personal views, but I interview people from across the political spectrum because I believe in plurality. History is not a monolith; it is a debate.

I want to extend my deepest thanks to everyone who has supported this project. To Alvaro in Spain, who built our website out of sheer kindness. To Mehdi in Paris and Michael in Ireland for their steadfast friendship and feedback. To the publicists who send me incredible books, and the authors who wake up at 5 a.m. to talk to me.

But mostly, I want to thank you, the listener. Whether you agree with me or not—and I know many of you don’t!—you have given a former history teacher a voice and a purpose. You have allowed me to keep exploring the complexities of the past, always with an eye on the human beings at the center of the storm.

Transcript

Nick: Welcome again to the Explaining History podcast. It is nearly the end of the year, and I rarely talk about the podcast itself. The point of it isn’t to be the subject, but in the process of building a community here, I think it’s important to talk about what the podcast is and what I think it’s for.

You may disagree. I guess when you hear an episode, you make the sense of it that you make. So there are many Explaining History podcasts in that sense.

It was a complete accident. I say this to everyone I interview. It started years ago when I taught history in a high school here in Wales. It was a “flipped learning” experiment—the idea that students do the knowledge absorption for homework so we can do structured tasks in the lesson.

Then it took on a life of its own. I left teaching two years ago and now work as a counsellor (of the psychotherapeutic, not political, variety). But the podcast has remained. I’ve been doing it for 13 years now. There have been times I’ve been exhausted by it, but I’ve always felt there was something worth saying.

The question is: what are we trying to say?

First, let’s look at what the podcast is not. If you search for history podcasts, the genre winners are “history entertainment.” They tell interesting, amusing, exciting stories. I don’t do that. If I have entertained anyone, I apologize—I will do penance!

My purpose is to explain. Who am I to explain anything? Just a former history teacher. I’m not a Wikipedia page; I don’t give definitive versions. I am a filter. I choose to read Tony Judt or Juliet Gardiner rather than Niall Ferguson. I approach things from a broadly humanistic, socialist perspective, but I believe in a plurality of views. I talk to plenty of people who aren’t socialists.

I believe in structural explanations. I don’t ascribe to “Great Man” theories—the idea that if Churchill hadn’t made a speech, everything would have been lost. Speeches resonate because structural forces—economic, social, demographic—are already in play.

For example, I love Antony Beevor’s history of WWII because he looks at the structural realities. The Axis powers had no chance of succeeding against the combined manufacturing output of the USA, the British Empire, and the Soviet Union. It didn’t matter how many battles they won; it mattered how many Sherman tanks they could produce.

The “Great Man” theory is popular on TV because it’s easy to construct a narrative around: “It was a dark time, one man stood up, and then it all got better.” This “happy ever after” fallacy undermines contemporary struggles. It leads people to believe that racism ended with the Civil Rights Act or that we reached the “End of History” in 1989. This comforts a certain tier of Western society, but I dispute it entirely.

I don’t do history as entertainment because I question our right to reduce human suffering to content. When we look at the Holocaust, Mao’s famine, or StalinStalin Joseph Vissarionovich Stalin (18 December 1878 – 5 March 1953) was a Soviet politician, dictator and revolutionary who led the Soviet Union from 1924 until his death in 1953. Read More’s purges, we are dealing with the lives of human beings. To treat that as exciting or prurient is morally questionable.

I’m sharing this because this is your podcast. I record it, but if you weren’t listening, it wouldn’t exist. It belongs to you.

I want to give a vote of thanks. To my good friend Alvaro in Spain, who built the Explaining History website out of the goodness of his heart. It now reaches 20,000 people a month. To Mehdi in Paris, who gives me valuable feedback, even when he disagrees with me. To Michael in Ireland, a steadfast friend of the podcast.

I want to thank the authors who come on the show—people like Toby Manning—and the book publicists who connect me with them. It is an incredible privilege to have academics wake up at 5:30 a.m. in LA to talk to me.

And to the listeners—even the far-right ones who leave comments on my “Why Hitler Wasn’t a Socialist” video (which I will take down eventually because it’s become rage bait). It enriches me to see different perspectives, even if I disagree with them.

When someone from Vietnam or Czechoslovakia writes in to say, “That’s your perspective, but here is what my grandfather said,” that is a gift.

Thank you all for giving this former history teacher a platform to talk about what matters—to look at the past with new eyes and remember the human beings at the heart of it.

Merry Christmas, and I’ll be doing a few more episodes before the New Year. Much love. Bye-bye.