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What is the truth? Is it sometimes just the latest opinion? Is it changeable? (By the way, that's an asterisk. Not an asterik or an asterix, which are common mispronunciations. But more on the symbol can be found in the dictionary. You probably have one somewhere around.)

What is history? Is it simply the testimony of the victor or the view of the best writer? Where does mythology end and a true representation of the past begin? Can we change the past if we don't find it agreeable? How can we indicate any differences we may have, or any changes that may have occurred?

One of the biggest arguments in baseball, though it's obviously of no consequence when considering all of the world's real problems, regards the record for home runs in a single season. For a long time the record was held by Babe Ruth who, in 1927, hit sixty. The record held for quite a while and was revered by those who saw the Babe as the greatest hitter baseball had ever known. Then came Roger Maris, who hit sixty-one in 1961. (This all happened in the “old days,” before Mark McGwire hit seventy in 1998 and Barry Bonds hit seventy-three in 2001 – but we'll hold that discussion for now.) Ruth, however, hit his homers in a 154 game season, while the season, by 1961, had been extended to 162 games and it wasn't until after game number 154 that Maris hit his sixtieth and sixty-first.

Although the achievement was great (albeit fleeting – Maris soon disappeared from the scene), some sources chose to put an asterisk in their records to indicate that Maris didn't ”really” break the Babe's record. He just had more time. (Actually he hit sixty in fewer at-bats than Ruth.) The asterisk and explanation added some context to the information however, though it didn't affect the accomplishment. And that is the value of the footnote – however it is indicated. It offers the opportunity to comment on what is written without directly interrupting the flow of the text – and that can clarify what is written. For not everything written as history can be accepted at face value.

It's said that “History is written by the victors.” The concept is old, and the origin of the words uncertain. Some attribute it to Machiavelli, some to Nehru, some to Churchill, and others to a variety of authors. What it indicates, however, is that history is made by the one whose book you read. It's certain that Churchill said “History will be kind to me for I intend to write it.” It would reflect his views and not those of someone with whom he disagreed. And that presents another reason for the inclusion of footnotes. In addition to context, such notes can offer some perspective on the reliability of the source and, perhaps, alternative understandings of the events portrayed, and why they are described as they are.

The stories about George Washington that Parson Mason Weems wrote in his Life of Washington weren't meant to be taken as the truth. They were “intended to provide a morally instructive tale for the youth of the young nation.” They still do. They are the fables we teach our children even today. But any reference on the subject will ensure that they are understood as “instructive tales” rather than fact. They're wonderful for “the youth of [our not so] young nation” as morality tales that would prove inspiring. But, though created from whole cloth (Parson Weems was a man of the whole cloth), fortunately their allegorical nature is well known.

Not so the work of Alex Haley. Only when his work on the origin of his family as slaves in the American south – a “history” that became a television mini-series – was shown to be a fabrication did he fess up. As Edward Kosner reported in the Wall Street Journal (December 27, 2015), when confronted about his work “Haley staged a dignified retreat. 'I was just trying to give my people a myth to live by,' he took to saying.” The “truth” may be more than a set of facts, but the reader is entitled to know what's “true,” and what's true.

How much of the history we “know” to be true should be foot-noted? How much is reported by someone with an ax to grind? The problem is less that particular views may be favored and considered as truth, but that other views are not always preserved. The Talmud, the compendium of Jewish law, was careful to preserve the arguments and minority opinions on the subjects it discusses, giving future generations an understanding of the various views and possibilities. Some of what were considered minority views have survived as traditions of particular groups and others, after further discussion by more recent sages, have been accepted as normative. The views of the “losers” were not suppressed by the “victors,” but preserved as intercalated “footnotes.”

Though short lived, the asterisk provided such additional information. Who remembers that what was once a “dead” baseball was livened when, in 1911, there was a shift to cork centers for the balls, and that Home Run Baker, who played primarily before the “jackrabbit” ball was introduced, never hit more than twelve homers in a season? (Or, for that matter, that tennis rackets used to be made of wood.) Who considers the fact that Josh Gibson hit over eighty home runs while playing in the Negro Leagues because he was excluded from the white man's domain? Who entertains the notion that home run numbers have been affected by changes in stadium sizes and shapes to increase their likelihood and the profits of the owners? None of this information changes the past, but it gives us the opportunity to view it with added perspective.

Whatever the subject, context and perspective are valuable. You can ignore them if you choose, but their absence cheats you. It robs you of the opportunity to understand what you are considering. It's a shame they're not used more often, and that they're often ignored when present.ⁱ

I        Aye, there's the rub. I used to footnote liberally but, fearing that the notes were never read, I switched to inserting some of the information into the text by the use of parentheses, quotation marks, and other devices.