Hats, hierarchy, and the reproduction of class power

While Bernard Capp’s article “The Cultural, Social, and Ideological Role of the Hat in Early Modern England,” effectively captures the everyday experience of hat-honour, it also uncovers how early modern social hierarchy was maintained through intricate micro-rituals—tiny, habitual gestures so ingrained they appeared natural. The hat served not just as a symbol but as a daily tool for the ruling class to reinforce their authority. From a Marxist perspective, it was part of the ideological superstructure upholding property relations. Capp’s impressive evidence demonstrates that this superstructure operated not just through sermons or laws, but through the smallest bodily movements.

Doffing a hat was a simple act of submission that didn’t need literacy, catechism, or political knowledge. It embodied ideology physically—a reflex that signalled the legitimacy, visibility, and enforceability of social rank. The requirement to perform this gesture “indoors or out,” in every interaction, highlights its role: hierarchy had to be continuously demonstrated to maintain credibility. The hat served as a mobile display of class authority.

The refusal was so explosive because when the Quakers declined to remove their hats, it wasn’t just about etiquette; it challenged the very reproduction of hierarchy. They refused to partake in the ideological effort that kept the social order intact. In this way, refusing to wear hats is comparable to the Levellers’ push for political equality and the Diggers’ call for economic equality. All three challenged the ideological and material bases of inherited privilege.

Capp hints at a deeper connection but chooses not to delve into it. His analysis mainly revolves around surface-level cultural details—the gestures, anecdotes, and social reactions—rather than the underlying class conflicts that give these gestures their meaning. Nevertheless, the evidence he provides strongly indicates a structural interpretation. The anger exhibited by magistrates, fathers, and local gentry was not just personal insult; it signalled a panic among the ruling class as their routines, which reinforced their authority, started to unravel. Essentially, the hat was more than a trivial object; it was a small part of the larger system of class control that began to weaken in the 1640s.

Capp’s article reveals the core focus of Marxist historiography regarding the English Revolution, emphasising the intersection of ideology, property, and social practice. The hat was not merely a cultural object; it served as a micro-technology for the early modern ruling class to maintain power. His evidence aligns with the tradition established by Christopher Hill, expanded by E.P. Thompson, radicalised by Ellen Meiksins Wood, and explored through bodily gestures by Stallybrass & White.

Christopher Hill argued that ideology functions as a form of class struggle. He believed that the English Revolution centred on conflicts over the ideological basis of property and sovereignty—an insight missing from Capp’s analysis. Hat-honour was a daily ritual that upheld and naturalised hierarchy, embodying Hill’s concept of the “world of obedience.” In this universe, deference was instinctive and bodily. When Quakers refused to remove their hats, they were not merely breaking social etiquette; they were challenging the ideological reproduction of class power. Their refusal disrupted the routine performance of subordination that upheld the divine legitimacy of the property system.

Hill would have seen the hat as a marker of where the Revolution’s underlying conflicts became visible. The anger displayed by magistrates and fathers was not just about personal insults; it was a sign of a ruling class terrified by the decline of the ideological rituals that maintained their power.

E.P. Thompson: class as lived experience

Thompson emphasises that class is not a fixed category but a dynamic relationship constantly negotiated in daily life. Capp’s evidence exemplifies this idea. Hat-honour was a common custom used to uphold hierarchy, and refusing to doff one’s hat was a way to challenge it. The Worcestershire parish officer who refused to remove his hat in 1608 was not just being rude; he was engaging in what Thompson calls a “moral economy of defiance,” asserting through his actions that the ritual of deference was neither natural nor unavoidable. Similarly, the Quakers’ refusals can be seen as a form of class struggle expressed through gestures. Their act was a practical rejection of the bodily discipline that reinforced the ruling class’s authority. Thompson would interpret Ellwood’s father’s confiscation of hats not as eccentricity but as an effort to enforce bodily submission, which supported the social order.

Ellen Meiksins Wood: property relations and the logic of domination

Wood’s contribution deepens the understanding that the English Revolution was not just a monarchy crisis but also a challenge to the property system shaping English society. Hat-honour served as an ideological practice that reinforced the perceived naturalness of this regime. It functioned as a ritual embodying the idea that rank—and consequently property—granted legitimate authority over others.

The Quakers’ refusal was more than symbolic; it challenged the core ideas of agrarian capitalism. By insisting on spiritual equality, they also implied social equality, which in turn questioned the property relations underpinning English society. According to Wood, the hat-refusal exemplified a micro-political act reflecting the same reasoning behind the Levellers’ push for political equality and the Diggers’ call for economic equality.

Stallybrass & White: the politics of the body

If Hill, Thompson, and Wood offer the structural framework, Stallybrass & White contribute the detailed anatomy. Their exploration of the “politics and poetics of transgression” demonstrates how the body functions as a site for inscribing and challenging hierarchy. Hat-honour was a bodily ritual involving lowering the head, removing the covering, and physically enacting submission. It embodied ideology in a tangible form.

The Quakers’ refusal represented a physical act of rebellion, rejecting hierarchical control over even the smallest bodily actions. Stallybrass & White interpret Ellwood’s reluctance to go bareheaded “like a Mad-Man” as indicative of how deeply society had conditioned the body to conform to hierarchy — and how significant it was to break that conditioning. Their perspective helps explain why the hat was such a powerful symbol. In their view, clothing is more than just functional; it is a medium through which the body is disciplined, categorised, and made understandable. The hat served as a mobile sign of status, and removing it was a performative act of submission. By refusing the gesture, one was rejecting the imprinting of hierarchy onto the body itself.

Synthesis: the hat as a microcosm of the Revolution

Bringing these historians together offers a much more radical interpretation of Capp’s material than the article alone suggests: Hill argues that hat-honour was part of the ideological worldview broken by the Revolution. Thompson demonstrates that refusing to wear a hat was a tangible expression of class conflict. Wood explains that the gesture was closely linked to the property relations within agrarian capitalism. Stallybrass & White reveal that the hat served as a technology for disciplining the body and enforcing hierarchy.

Viewed from this perspective, Capp’s article extends beyond cultural history, serving as a case study on the extent of class domination in daily life and how revolutionary forces could challenge that control. The conflict over the hat symbolised a fight over whether hierarchy had any rightful claim to the body. When the body resisted, it triggered a ripple that threatened to destabilise the social order.

Material culture and the English Revolution: where Capp sits in the historiography

Capp’s article continues a long tradition in English social and cultural history that views everyday life as a battleground of ideas. Christopher Hill saw radicalism rooted in the beliefs of common people; Keith Thomas explored the cultural reasoning behind beliefs and actions; E.P. Thompson emphasised that class was experienced firsthand before being theorised. While Capp’s work fits well within this tradition, it also highlights some limitations of its empirical approach. Might Hill have questioned: What class dynamics made hat-honour essential? Could Thomas have asked: What mental frameworks gave it significance? Thompson would have inquired: What acts of resistance undermined it?

Capp provides the most comprehensive answer to the third question by illustrating how resistance arose, how it was perceived, and the consequences it faced. However, he largely leaves the first two questions unaddressed. Consequently, his article offers rich detail but lacks deep structural analysis—it reconstructs the ritual without fully exploring the underlying social relations that created it. This isn’t necessarily a weakness but an opportunity. Capp’s detailed evidence offers a valuable resource for historians to link the ideological framework with actual lived experiences of class. The hat serves as a crucial connection point between cultural history and political economy, revealing how property was established, naturalised, and challenged through everyday gestures.

A more dialectical interpretation of Capp’s material would see hat-honor as: a ritual for ideological reinforcement—daily displays of hierarchy that make class power seem natural; a site of hidden conflict—a gesture that can be inverted, withheld, or refused, exposing the coercive core beneath politeness; a point of revolutionary rupture—in the 1640s, when monarchy and property legitimacy were openly challenged, the hat became a battleground for ideological disputes of the old order; a material expression of egalitarian theology—for Quakers, refusal was not just symbolic but a doctrinal practice, embodying spiritual equality that also implied social equality; and a microcosm of the Revolution’s broader logic—the fight over the hat symbolized a struggle over whether hierarchy had any legitimate claim on the body and, by extension, on society.

Viewed this way, Capp’s article transcends simple cultural history to become an insight into the mechanisms of class control and the resistance they provoke when challenged. Capp reveals — perhaps unintentionally — that revolutions are fought not only in big arenas like parliaments, pulpits, and battlegrounds but also through small everyday acts. The English Revolution wasn’t just a matter of sovereignty; it challenged the body’s submission to inherited social rank. The Quakers’ refusal to remove their hats was a minor gesture with profound meaning: a practical rejection of the ideological order supporting property rights. When examined alongside the radical movements of the 1640s and 1650s, Capp’s article illustrates how revolutionary pressure can deeply infiltrate society, showing that questioning hierarchy can turn even a hat’s brim into a battleground.

I am grateful to C Thompson for bringing this article to my attention

Sources and Bibliography

Primary Sources

  • Ellwood, Thomas. The History of the Life of Thomas Ellwood, Written by Himself. London, 1714. A crucial firsthand account of Quaker practice and persecution, including Ellwood’s recollection of hat‑refusal and domestic conflict.
  • Fox, George. Journal. Various editions. Foundational Quaker text articulating the theological basis for refusing hat‑honour and other gestures of deference.
  • Winstanley, Gerrard. The Law of Freedom (1652); The True Levellers Standard Advanced (1649). Essential for situating egalitarian gestures (including hat‑refusal) within broader revolutionary challenges to property and hierarchy.
  • Lilburne, John. The Legal Fundamental Liberties of the People of England (1649). A Leveller articulation of political equality that parallels the Quaker rejection of bodily deference.

Secondary Sources: Marxist and Radical Historiography

Christopher Hill and the ideological foundations of hierarchy

  • Hill, Christopher. The World Turned Upside Down: Radical Ideas During the English Revolution. London: Penguin, 1972. The classic account of ideological rupture; indispensable for framing hat‑refusal as part of a broader crisis of obedience.
  • Hill, Christopher. Society and Puritanism in Pre‑Revolutionary England. London: Secker & Warburg, 1964. Key for understanding the ideological world in which hat‑honour operated.
  • Hill, Christopher. The Experience of Defeat. London: Allen Lane, 1984. Useful for situating Quaker radicalism within the post‑Revolution settlement.

E.P. Thompson and class as lived experience

  • Thompson, E.P. Customs in Common. London: Merlin Press, 1991. Essential for theorising hat‑honour as a “custom” that encoded hierarchy and hat‑refusal as a lived form of class struggle.
  • Thompson, E.P. The Making of the English Working Class. London: Gollancz, 1963. Foundational for understanding class as a relationship expressed through everyday practices.

Ellen Meiksins Wood and the logic of property relations

  • Wood, Ellen Meiksins. The Origin of Capitalism: A Longer View. London: Verso, 2002. Provides the structural framework for linking hat‑honour to agrarian property relations.
  • Wood, Ellen Meiksins. Liberty and Property: A Social History of Western Political Thought. London: Verso, 2012. Crucial for understanding how political and ideological practices (like doffing) naturalised property‑based hierarchy.

Stallybrass & White and the politics of the body

  • Stallybrass, White. The Politics and Poetics of Transgression. Ithaca: Cornell University Press, 1986. The definitive study of how hierarchy is inscribed on the body; essential for theorising hat‑honour as bodily discipline.

Cultural and Social History of Early Modern England

  • Thomas, Keith. Religion and the Decline of Magic. London: Weidenfeld & Nicolson, 1971. A model for integrating belief, gesture, and social order.
  • Capp, Bernard. England’s Culture Wars: Puritan Reformation and Its Enemies in the Interregnum, 1649–1660. Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2012. Contextualises Capp’s broader work on cultural conflict and everyday life.
  • Capp, Bernard. “The Cultural, Social, and Ideological Role of the Hat in Early Modern England.” The Historical Journal (2026), 1–19. The article under review.
  • Sharpe, J.A. Early Modern England: A Social History 1550–1760. London: Arnold, 1987. Useful for situating hat‑honour within broader social practices.
  • Underdown, David. Revel, Riot and Rebellion. Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1985. Classic study of how everyday gestures and rituals encoded political tensions.

Material Culture, Embodiment, and Ideology

  • Brewer, John, and Roy Porter (eds.). Consumption and the World of Goods. London: Routledge, 1993. For situating hats within the broader field of early modern material culture.
  • Cressy, David. Dangerous Talk: Scandalous, Seditious, and Treasonable Speech in Pre‑Modern England. Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2010. Complements Capp’s focus on gesture with a focus on speech as ideological performance.
  • Hunt, Margaret. The Middling Sort: Commerce, Gender, and the Family in England, 1680–1780. Berkeley: University of California Press, 1996. Useful for understanding how clothing and gesture marked status among non‑elite groups.

Quaker Studies

  • Bauman, Richard. Let Your Words Be Few: Symbolism of Speaking and Silence Among Seventeenth‑Century Quakers. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1983. A key anthropological study of Quaker embodied practice.
  • Reay, Barry. The Quakers and the English Revolution. London: Temple Smith, 1985. Essential for situating Quaker radicalism within the revolutionary context.

Additional Works on Hierarchy, Gesture, and Authority

  • Goffman, Erving. Interaction Ritual: Essays on Face‑to‑Face Behaviour. New York: Pantheon, 1967. Classic sociological framework for understanding ritualised deference.
  • Bourdieu, Pierre. Outline of a Theory of Practice. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1977. For theorising habitus and embodied hierarchy.

Podcast Episode: The Nuremberg Women: Liberal Mythmaking and the Erasure of Fascism’s Class Roots

Pip: Fascism as moral aberration, justice as emotional spectacle, and eight women whose humanity supposedly unlocked Nuremberg's true meaning — freerein61 has thoughts, and they are not gentle.

Mara: This episode follows a single extended argument: a review of Natalie Livingstone's The Nuremberg Women, and what it exposes about how liberal historiography handles fascism, class, and the politics of the postwar trials.

Pip: Let's start with the book, the review that praised it, and why both together tell a story that the post argues is more comfortable than it is honest.

The Nuremberg Women: Liberal Mythmaking and Fascism's Class Roots

Mara: The post opens with Natalie Livingstone's own framing of her book — eight women at Nuremberg, a "fresh" and "humanising" account that, she claims, made the proceedings "more democratic" and contributed to the perception that "justice was served." That self-description is where the critique begins.

Pip: And the critique lands hard. The post's core charge is that centering personal stories at Nuremberg is not just incomplete — it is ideologically functional. The comfort is the point.

Mara: Katja Hoyer's review in the TLS is the immediate target. The post describes it as "a refined form of liberal historiography — graceful and compassionate, yet ultimately evasive," one that replaces structural analysis with narrative empathy and turns "structural violence into emotional spectacle."

Pip: Graceful and evasive is a devastating combination. You feel like you've understood something and you've been carefully steered away from it.

Mara: The post is precise about what Hoyer omits: the trials as geopolitical performance, the selective prosecution that left German capitalism's economic foundations intact, the reintegration of former Nazis into the Cold War state. None of that appears in Hoyer's account.

Pip: Instead, Nazi defendants become psychological monsters, the women become moral witnesses, and Nuremberg becomes a cathartic encounter with evil. Tidy. Reassuring. Structurally useless.

Mara: The post extends that charge directly to Livingstone. Her focus on figures like Erika Mann observing Göring and Streicher as "gaunt," "broken," or "like wild beasts in a zoo" is described as "trivia presented as historical insight." The condition of Nazi leaders in 1945, the post argues, tells us nothing about the class forces that brought them to power.

Pip: The industrialists — Krupp, Thyssen, IG Farben — largely avoided serious punishment. That absence is the argument's spine.

Mara: On Laura Knight, the British war artist, the post makes a sharp point: her paintings are presented by Livingstone as capturing the proceedings' humanity, but "art at Nuremberg did not uncover deeper truths; it helped construct the trial's image as civilised, rational, and humane." Livingstone accepts that image without criticism.

Mara: The post also takes on Livingstone's treatment of Ursula von Kardoff as a symbol of the new Germany — and rejects it. The German bourgeoisie was not remade after 1945; it was preserved and realigned westward. Casting its postwar representatives as enlightened democrats, the post argues, aids rehabilitation rather than reckoning.

Pip: And on gender, the post is equally direct. Livingstone treats women as moral anchors by nature. The post calls that liberal-essentialist — gender as a social relation, not a moral category, and the gendered labour at Nuremberg served the trial's ideological presentation without overcoming its political limits.

Mara: The closing judgment is unsparing: "Empathy cannot replace analysis. It is not enough to sympathise with the women of Nuremberg; we must examine the conditions that shaped their labour, the political forces that defined their roles, and the ideological purposes their presence served."

Pip: The women of Nuremberg as workers, agents, and participants in a politically constrained legal proceeding — that's the recovery the post is after, and it's a genuinely different frame than the one either Livingstone or Hoyer offers.


Mara: The throughline is consistent: liberal historiography describes the emotional aftermath of structural violence but cannot explain its foundations.

Pip: Which means the next question is always the one it won't ask — what produced this, and who was protected when it ended.