The unforgiving minute: How Australia learned to tell the time

by Graeme Davison

In asking how Australia learned to tell the time, Graeme Davison uncovers a surprising story. From ship's chronometers to digital clocks, from time-balls to time pips, from dreamtime to flexitime, clocks and time-keeping have been the quiet revolutionaries of Australian history. As the convict era drew to an end, the colonial governors looked to clocks as the mechanical policemen of an emerging free society. Fifty years later, as railways and telegraphs began to spread across the land, and pocket watches appeared on the waistcoats of working men, colonial society began to keep stricter hours of work and play, and to teach its children the virtue of punctuality. In the early 20th century, punch clocks and time-switches laid the basis for new patterns of work in the factory and the home. Now, in the 1990s, the "faceless clocks" in computers and automated control systems have created a "postmodern" time regime that is both more flexible, and more demanding, than its predecessors. Drawing on a wide range of theoretical insights and primary sources, "The Unforgiving Minute" offers an original interpretation of Australian history.

160 pages, Paperback

First published November 1, 1993

Reviews

[Mal Watts · Rating 3 out of 5]

I did learn snippets of interesting history from Mr Davison; fascinating factlets and entry points into episodes of Australian history of which I was largely ignorant. And I always appreciate an author who takes the time to reference sources and point me to places where I can dig a little deeper into the most interesting historical and technical nuggets. In fact, I'm pretty sure I'm here through just such a reference in Chad Orzel's 'A Brief History of Timekeeping'. My disappointment with The Unforgiving Minute is its paucity of 'narrativium' - the connecting element of story. I had to intersperse reading chapters with reading novels, and force myself back each time. The story of time and timekeeping and its overlay on Australian history itself is fascinating, but this book was a frustrating presentation of it. No sooner had a quirky and interesting character appeared, than they were gone. This happened. Then this happened. Then this happened... The book follows a thread through time that should be engaging and illuminating and end with a kind of 'wow, I didn't know that! ' but I found myself with a very low care factor at the end, and I just wanted it to end. I wonder if perhaps that's how the writer felt?
A book that I'm glad I read, but one of those books you look forward to having read, rather than anticipate reading.