We expect maps to behave and look a certain way. But tweak them a bit, and they can shock, amuse, or reveal some deeper truth. And with some luck and/or talent on the part of the mapmaker, perhaps all three in one.
Regional lampoon
That certainly applies to a strand of satirical cartography we could call “exaggerated regional chauvinism” — a school in which maps skew perspectives or enlarge certain areas, to lampoon the supposed self-importance of the localities involved, as well as that of their inhabitants.
Those somewhat familiar with this cartographic theme already (rightly) anticipate a mention of Saul Steinberg’s “View of the World from 9th Avenue,” the New Yorker cover that launched a thousand parodies. At least as interesting as that image and its spin-offs are its antecedents, which reveal a small but interesting strand of American map humor that traces all the way back to 1908.
“30 years older”
“Perception-based cartography is at least 30 years older than I thought it was,” tweeted Tim Wallace, Senior Editor for Geography at the New York Times, back in 2016. That’s when he came across a 1908 cartoon from the Chicago Tribune, showing a septet of old white men, all balding, most chomping cigars and one pointing to a map of the United States.
In his other hand, the pointer holds a piece of paper that reads “The Aldrich Currency Bill.” Passed by Congress in May 1908 and now referred to as the Aldrich-Vreeland Act, it was a reaction to the Knickerbocker Crisis of the year before. Those three critical weeks in October are also known as the Bankers’ Panic, when the New York Stock Exchange fell by almost 50%. The crash led to bank runs, constricted market liquidity, and eventually caused a nationwide wave of banks and businesses going bust.
Mocking government attitudes
To prevent similar crises, Aldrich-Vreeland gave banks the permission to issue emergency currency. A more permanent solution would be the establishment, a few years later, of the Federal Reserve Bank.
But we’re over-explaining the cartoon. Titled “Map of the United States as seen by the Finance Committee of the United States Senate,” it mocks the attitude in government circles of focusing on the big eastern cities and neglecting the rest of the country. The pointer points toward Washington, Philadelphia, New York, Boston, and Albany, which all loom large on the map. Pittsburg (then for a few more years without its final “h”) is shaped like a bottle, no doubt in reference to its brewing prowess. Pointedly absent is Chicago, home of the Tribune.