The 'Museum van den Arbeid' opened in 1923, as a tribute to the countless nameless workers who made everyday industrial products under difficult conditions. Almost ninety years later, Science Center NEMO emerged from this. Judith Gussenhoven did PhD research into this history at the University of Twente.
In the years leading up to the First World War, society was gaining momentum. Europe was under the spell of modern technology and industry. The symbol of the unstoppable technological progress and the social dynamism that it brought with it was the dynamo, huge spinning coils that could generate electricity, the miracle of the modern age. Huge light shows were regularly held, the first electric trams and cars drove through the streets. Modern technology fascinated everyone. They were 'dizzying years', as historian Philipp Blom called them.
But with all the technological boom, social criticism also grew. During this time Herman Heijenbrock, a painter from Rotterdam, visited the mining areas in Belgium. What he saw there made him sad. Of course, the great technological progress also had a downside, namely the fate of the poorly paid mining and factory workers, working in unhealthy conditions.
“That harrowing misery made me hate such a society,” Heijenbrock wrote home. But improving the lot of the worker through socialist action was not for Heijenbrock. He was critical of socialism and believed that society would rather improve through a combination of higher spiritual and moral development, and through "a deeper understanding." Heijenbrock wanted to elevate the people by showing how things were done in production lines and how and from which raw materials all those nice things of modern times were made.
Semi-finished products and raw materials
He started making paintings of large industry. But Heijenbrock wanted to do more. He was an avid collector of all kinds of factory-produced objects. In 1923 he held his first official exhibition in the garden of the Stedelijk Museum, entitled 'What we owe to the animal'. There were animal skulls, bone egg spoons, glue and grease and their uses, but also phosphorus and matches, fur, brushes, fish products, strings. Stuff that many people have long forgotten are animal products.
A little later, the 'Museum of Labor' was founded. It was temporarily housed at the Security Museum in Amsterdam. The theme was 'labour'. By explaining how products were made, Heijenbrock wanted to pay tribute to the countless nameless workers who toiled daily in the factories. Heijenbrock presented all kinds of work processes in educational permanent exhibitions, made up of countless products, semi-finished products and raw materials, provided with illustrations in the form of his drawings and paintings.
During the 1930s, the 'Museum van den Arbeid' mainly remained a place where Heijenbrock could exhibit his enormous collection of things. But after the end of the Second World War and the death of Heijerbrock in 1948, the museum foundation and a new management had to look for a new objective that could receive financial support from the government and the industry. Otherwise, the museum would certainly perish.
Ode to industry
Post-war industry was to become one of the engines of Dutch reconstruction. The government found the image that the old museum gave of the industry too negative and, above all, outdated. The new museum, which soon got the name Netherlands Institute for Industry and Technology, wanted to increase interest in industry and crafts; it wanted to make children enthusiastic about the industry and the associated technical professions.
Very little was left of Heijerbrock's critical idealism. In order to get support and money from the industry, they also wanted a say in the program. In order to guarantee 'scientifically sound information to the public', the facility would be led by an adviser from the relevant sector for each department. For example, the section on coal was set up by the Joint Coal Mines and the section on rubber by the Rubber Institute and the Association of Rubber Manufacturers.
NINT was about giving children the opportunity to 'experience' what it would be like to work in the industry. That's why there were really working models everywhere they could experiment with. In the 1960s, information about scientific research was also added, because research naturally preceded industrial production.
Fear of technology
From 1971 onwards, the wholesome modernist belief in manufacturability and progress began to waver. Since the late 1960s, the economy has been less prosperous. The mines became exhausted and thousands of workers lost their jobs due to ever-increasing automation. Also in intellectual circles there was increasing criticism of the unbridled Western consumer society. Groups like the Club of Rome warned that there were limits to growth. Also, more and more people became aware of the dangers of nuclear weapons and energy.
Public opinion became increasingly critical of technological progress, and NINT had to respond to this. But “closing the gap between science and the public” never became an official goal. One of the first reactions was to strengthen ties with the schools. Ultimately, NINT presented itself as an institution that presented itself as a playful, didactic addition to school programs in the fields of chemistry, physics, engineering and the new phenomenon of computers.
In doing so, NINT learned how to link playfulness and education, including following the American example. After ten years of experimentation, the museum had found a new objective in 1982; it would be a place where people could get acquainted with science and technology in playful ways. Due to the rapid rise of the computer society, the Dutch government also explored the possibilities of a genuine national science center, a 'Science center', based on the British-American model.
Hardly any explanation needed
Finally, in 1997, the 'science and technology center' newMetropolis opened in a spectacular new building on the Oosterdok in Amsterdam. NewMetropolis aimed to teach visitors of all ages new skills, which the founders said were desperately needed in the new information age. Based on an individualistic conviction ('a world in which you yourself are the greatest miracle'), trying out and experiencing yourself was central. Explanation was hardly needed anymore. Information played a modest role, it was about the experience. To reinforce the desired accessibility, the management changed the name to NEMO in 2000.
These developments led to today's NEMO, where experience is central to evoke a fascination for science. But the interest generated in this way should still lead to the choice for a beta study, writes Judith Gussenhoven. And that is an economic motive comparable to the motives during the reconstruction years.