September '25

In doing so, he inspired such an avalanche of followers that in 1812, the British Parliament had to issue a special Destruction of Stocking Frames Act. Sabotaging machinery for the production of stockings could result in an encounter with the hangman, which even to me seems a rather severe consequence.

One may take many views of the destruction of factories by the Luddites – the followers of the fictionally romanticised Ned Ludd. On the one hand, there were the workers and craftsmen, whose years of honing their mastery were suddenly superseded by much more efficient apparatuses. Considering the somewhat unforthcoming conditions the Luddites pointed to in the labour market during early capitalism, one could perhaps find a modicum of understanding for their violent revolt.

On the other hand, recruits came from the formerly well-off masters and free craftsmen, whose prosperity hinged on the recent mechanisation of yarns and threads. Before that time, there was only as much yarn and thread as the knitters and weavers could produce. Removing that bottleneck would lead to an outpour of efficiency for weavers and knitters. In other words, Luddites embraced progress insofar as it suited them.

If the Luddites had gotten their way, our sock fellowship would never have seen the light of day. The machines virtually eradicated hand knitters and hand weavers, but gave rise to the position of sock secretary. And if that argument does not convince you yet, please know that child labour in this industry has also decreased over the last two decades.