Kipling and the Iron Ring

Today we mark the 142nd anniversary of the birth of Rudyard Kipling, one of the most influential poets of the 20th century and the unofficial patron of this blog.  As our regular readers will know the name of this blog is taken from his classic 1919 poem.  As I noted in a previous commemoration:

The reason that the authors of this blog chose the name The Gods of the Copybook Headings, in honor of Kipling's 1919 poem, which is posted on the upper left hand side of the page, was because of its strong moral and historical sense.  The idea that there are Gods of the Copybook, certain basic truths about the human condition that transcend time and which subsequent generations ignore at their peril, was one that we thought was desperately needed in an age of profound skepticism.  More than few view the poem as "moralistic" or "preachy."  Such comments only highlight the problem.  Before we can seriously discuss the issues of the day we must reach not an understanding on politics, economics or ethics, but deeper still, agree that there is something called truth, however reached.  Truth is a word that is almost never used, in either intellectual discussion or common conversation, unless referring to a very narrow statement of a particular concrete, or ironically.  The idea of truth, that there are principles that are universal is what is not merely eschewed but treated with contempt today.

Not a word I could add to the above.  The Kipling of the Gods of the Copybook Headings is, however, the master at his most bleak.  T.S. Elliot, in the introduction to a collection of his writings in the early 1940s, thought that Kipling had been in a particularly foul mood when drafting the poem.  Given this it seems necessary, in fairness to Kipling and ourselves here at GCH, to show him also as a positive and creative force, as a champion and admirer of the heroic and the good.   

Not since Byron had there been a major English speaking poet who had been so active in social and political affairs.  Kipling's death may have been less romantic - it's difficult to imagine him, so hard headed and practical, dying a martyr to another country's independence - but it too marked the end of a remarkable public career.  He was a ceaseless promoter of the Commonwealth (originally Imperial) War Graves Commission and a famous advocate of Imperial unity.  His name and words carried remarkable weight, something unimaginable for any of today's poets, most of whom are unreadable by their academic compatriots, much less the general public.  He even helped play a role in ending the career of Wilfred Laurier.  An opponent of free trade, which he viewed as threatening to Imperial unity, he attacked Laurier's support for a free trade deal with the United States. On the eve of the 1911 Canadian General Election he cabled his support for Robert Borden writing: "It is her soul that Canada risks today."

Beyond politics he was a cultural force, so much so that he received a very strange request from a Canadian friend of his in 1922.

This unique Canadian institution arose out of a dinner meeting in Montreal on January 25, 1922. It was the Annual Meeting of the Engineering Institute of Canada, and Professor H E T Haultain of the University of Toronto, was the luncheon speaker. He entitled his address The Romance of Engineering, and in the course of his remarks, he urged the development of a ‘tribal spirit’ among engineers. This must have been pretty heady stuff for those at the luncheon, because it didn’t stop there. Asked over dinner that evening to expand on his thoughts, Haultain proposed that an oath or creed be developed to which young engineers could subscribe, something along the lines of the Hippocratic oath in the medical profession. By the end of the evening seven past presidents of the Institute had agreed to form a committee to act on this proposal.

On October 18, 1923, with the blessing of the committee, Professor Haultain wrote to his friend Rudyard Kipling. He provided Kipling with an outline of the discussion held at the Montreal dinner, and sought his help in the writing of an oath. Kipling replied on November 9, sending Haultain The Ritual of the Calling of an Engineer, along with notes now part of the Ritual. Kipling included the poem The Sons of Martha.

The idea of a ring, to be worn by engineers on the little finger of the working hand, was proposed, and Kipling had some thoughts on this too.

As Kipling pictured the ring, he said, “it should be rough, as the mind of the young man. It should not be smoothed at the edges, any more than the character of the young. It is hand-hammered all around—as the young have their hammerings coming to them.”

As Wiki notes on the Ritual of the Calling of an Engineer:

The Obligation, which is not an oath but a solemn expression of intention, is subscribed to at the ceremony. The Obligation essentially states the duties and responsibilities of the engineer. Following the Obligation, the Iron Ring is placed on the little finger of the working hand, and is worn by the engineer as a symbol and a reminder.

The Obligation is private, though not necessarily secret. However, it is customary for those who have gone through it to not discuss the details of the Calling with others, even engineers from other countries. In many places, the ceremony is open only to candidates or those who have already undergone the ritual, but in some places close friends or family are allowed (if not encouraged) to watch.

As part of the preparation for the ritual, candidates are instructed not to discuss the details of the ritual with the media. A reminder of this is provided at the end of the ceremony in the form of a written instruction that states: "The Rule of Governance provides that there shall be no publicity in connection with the Ritual."

Only Kipling would have thought it proper to do such a thing.  Engineering at the time had only recently been professionalized, relatively few practitioners held post-secondary designations.  For a poet of Kipling's stature to have deigned to comply with such a request was almost without precedent.  The usual image of a poet is of figure disdainful of ordinary material concerns, a mind and spirit focused on the sublime. Something as practical as engineering would scarcely seem a fit subject for poetry, much less an elaborate ritual.  Kipling, however, was the poet of the Industrial Age.  Wordsworth exalted nature, Kipling did the same for machines and the men who made them.  He concludes his poem The Secret of the Machines thusly:

But remember, please, the Law by which we live,
  We are not built to comprehend a lie,
We can neither love nor pity nor forgive.
  If you make a slip in handling us you die!
We are greater than the Peoples or the Kings-
  Be humble, as you crawl beneath our rods!--
Our touch can alter all created things,
   We are everything on earth--except The Gods!
      
    Though our smoke may hide the Heavens from your eyes,
    It will vanish and the stars will shine again,
    Because, for all our power and weight and size,
    We are nothing more than children of your brain!

Simple plain language, elegantly flowing, expressing the genius and heroism that made the Industrial Revolution possible.  The desire to celebrate engineering, so modern a pursuit, is combined with a felt need by Kipling, and Professor Haultain, for ritual and ceremony, something often seen as ancient and irrelevant.  A ceremony to honour a profession dedicated to the utilitarian.  Therein lies the poet's genius and his latent conservativism.  The need for ritual and the value of community - here of a profession - adhering to a code of conduct undergrid by a conception of honour.  The best of modernity welcomed and enjoined to the best values of the past.  Kipling at his best.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Comments

[nomdeblog]

“The idea of truth, that there are principles that are universal is what is not merely eschewed but treated with contempt today.”

If our postmodern, moral relativists admitted that there was such as thing as “truth” then they’d have to admit there was choice. They don’t want choice, because then they’d have to be accountable for making the right or wrong choice. They want equal. That way they can’t make a mistake and can go on living in their perfectionist, utopian bubbles.

It’s interesting that Kipling was against the idea of choice that comes about with free trade. It appears his affection for imperialism and empire trumped all else. If even his great mind could get itself contradicted, then God help the rest of us.

[The Monarchist]

We went through the Iron Ring ceremony at the Royal Military College, which is reknown in particular for its engineering, given the huge continuous requirement in the Armed Forces for military engineers, aerospace engineers and maritime engineers. I think this is worthy of a cross-post, dear Publius.

[The Monarchist]

Perhaps a more abridged version.

[Walter E. Wallis, P.E.]

Kipling, Heinlein, Orwell, Rand and Hoffer - pretty much covers it. A copy of Marks helps.