From Powder Monkeys to Resurrectionists: 20 Obsolete Jobs and the Forces That Killed Them

These two roles, though separated by centuries and purpose, illustrate a common pattern: jobs born of necessity that vanished when the world changed. The powder monkey was a fixture of the Age of Sail, a young boy, typically 12 to 14, whose sole task was to ferry gunpowder from the ship's hold to the cannons. Their selection was practical: their small stature allowed them to navigate the cramped, low decks, and their height offered a sliver of protection from enemy fire. This was not a position of rank, but a critical function in the deadly ballet of naval combat. As one account notes, without the powder monkeys, the brave young boys who ferried the gunpowder to the guns, this great victory could not have happened. Their work was essential, yet perilous, and they often came from the poorest backgrounds, with institutions like the Marine Society offering a path into the navy for children with no other options.

The resurrectionist operated in a different, darker sphere of necessity. In the 18th and 19th centuries, medical schools faced a severe shortage of cadavers for dissection, a fundamental tool for advancing anatomy and surgery. The legal supply was minuscule, with the Murder Act of 1752 only marginally increasing it by allowing judges to substitute dissection for public hanging. This created a black market. Resurrectionists, or body snatchers, became the suppliers, exhuming fresh graves under cover of night. They operated in a legal grey area, driven by the demand from anatomists and the public's deep revulsion. The practice was so widespread and hated that graveyards were fortified with mortsafes and night watches, and the resurrectionists themselves risked physical violence.

Both jobs were critical to their eras-powder monkeys kept fleets fighting, resurrectionists fueled medical progress. Yet they both vanished, not from lack of need, but because the forces that created them were overcome. For powder monkeys, it was advances in ordnance and humanitarian objections to exposing children to combat. For resurrectionists, it was the eventual passage of laws like the Anatomy Act of 1832, which provided a legal source of bodies and removed the economic incentive for grave robbing. The brief 1927 reprise of the powder monkey role during the Nanking bombardment, when a young boy served in a destroyer's crew, stands as a stark reminder of how extreme circumstances can revive an obsolete function, but it also underscores how far the world had moved from the routine use of child labor in combat.

The Broader List: 20 Obsolete Occupations

The stories of powder monkeys and resurrectionists are not isolated. They are part of a long, steady stream of occupational obsolescence driven by the same forces: invention, automation, and shifting social norms. This pattern has reshaped the workforce for centuries. As one analysis notes, with the invention of automobiles and trains, the demand for horse-drawn vehicles disappeared, making this trade obsolete. The skilled craftsman who built carriages was replaced by the automechanic.

The industrial revolution was a major engine of this change. In textile mills, the work of children, these workers had the tedious job of removing empty bobbins from spinning frames was rendered unnecessary by automated machinery. Similarly, the role of the lector, who read aloud to factory workers, faded as factory work itself became less monotonous and more integrated with new technologies. The transition was often brutal for those displaced, as seen in the painful shift from rural agriculture to urban factories.

The 20th century accelerated this trend. The advent of automated bowling alleys in the 1950s made young teens... tasked with resetting the bowling pins obsolete. The rise of electricity replaced the lamp lighter who lit street lamps by hand. Even the humble alarm clock ended the need for the knocker-upper, a human alarm clock who tapped on windows. These were not just jobs lost; they were functions that simply ceased to be required.

The pattern continues today, with new technologies threatening even white-collar roles. Experts predict that any routine job that can easily be defined by a mathematical or logic equation will be at risk. This includes positions like mail sorters, whose decline is due to email and automated sorting systems, and patternmakers, whose work is being automated and outsourced. The role of the telephone switchboard operator, who once connected calls by hand, was automated by the 1960s. More recently, travel agents have been largely replaced by online booking platforms.

The overarching theme is technological displacement. Whether it was the automobile replacing the carriage maker, the computer replacing the human calculator, or the algorithm replacing the travel agent, the function often persists but the human role does not. As history shows, this creates immense disruption. Yet it also creates new opportunities, as the labor force migrates from one sector to another, from farms to factories, and now from routine tasks to more complex problem-solving. The key lesson is that job obsolescence is not a new phenomenon, but a constant feature of a changing world.

The Common Drivers: Technology, Regulation, and Social Change

The obsolescence of jobs like the powder monkey and the resurrectionist was not random. It was the predictable outcome of three powerful, interconnected forces: relentless technological innovation, decisive regulatory action, and shifting social norms. These drivers work together to redefine what is necessary, legal, and acceptable in the workforce.

Technology is the most consistent engine of displacement. It makes old functions redundant by creating faster, cheaper, or safer alternatives. The most dramatic example is agriculture. In the 19th century, about 70-80% of all jobs in the industrial world were in agriculture. Today, less than 1% of the U.S. workforce farms. This shift was driven by inventions that automated planting, harvesting, and processing, freeing labor for factories and, later, service industries. The same principle applies to countless other roles, from telephone switchboard operators to typists, as machines took over routine tasks.

Regulation often follows technological change or social pressure, formalizing new realities and closing loopholes. The resurrectionist trade was a direct response to a legal shortage. Before the Murder Act 1752, the supply of cadavers for medical study was minimal. The Act attempted to solve this by allowing judges to substitute dissection for public hanging, significantly increasing the legal supply. Yet it proved insufficient, creating the black market that resurrectionists filled. The eventual solution was another piece of legislation: the Anatomy Act of 1832. This law provided a legal source of bodies from workhouses, removing the economic incentive for grave robbing and making the resurrectionist's work obsolete.

Social change provides the moral and political fuel for these shifts. Humanitarian objections were a key factor in the powder monkey's decline. While the role was essential for naval combat, humanitarian objections to exposing children to combat. This reflects a broader trend where societal values evolve, making certain practices-whether child labor in battle or the public spectacle of dissection-increasingly untenable. The public's revulsion against resurrectionists, who were often attacked, was a social force that regulation had to reckon with.

These drivers rarely act alone. Technological progress created the need for more medical cadavers, but regulation and social pressure determined how that need was met. Similarly, automation made agricultural labor less essential, but social norms and economic policies shaped the transition to new industries. The result is a pattern of obsolescence that is structural, not accidental. It is the world adapting, and the workforce following.

Modern Parallels and Lessons for the Workforce

The historical pattern of obsolescence offers a clear lens for today's workforce. Just as the lamplighter and the manual switchboard operator persist only for ceremonial or historic reasons, some modern roles may cling to life in niche applications while the core function is automated. The key watchpoint is not whether a job will vanish, but the pace of that change versus the ability of workers to retrain. The transition from farms to factories was painful, and the shift from routine tasks to complex problem-solving will be no different.

The threat is most acute for jobs that fit a specific formula. As one expert notes, any routine job that can easily be defined by a mathematical or logic equation will be at risk. This includes roles like mail sorters, whose decline is driven by email and automated sorting systems, and patternmakers, whose work is being automated and outsourced. These are the modern equivalents of the carriage maker or the typist, facing displacement not from a single invention, but from a wave of automation that can replicate their logic-based tasks more efficiently.

Yet history also shows that complete disappearance is not always the outcome. Some obsolete jobs endure in a symbolic capacity, a reminder of a bygone era. As the list notes, there are still a few lamplighters retained for ceremonial or tourist purposes, and manual switchboard operators may still be required for historic equipment. This suggests that for some roles, the function may be preserved in a limited, non-essential form even as the industry moves on.

The broader lesson is that obsolescence is a constant feature of a changing world. The social cost of this transition depends entirely on how well we manage it. The historical shift from agriculture to manufacturing saw the labor force migrate, but it required new skills and often left communities hollowed out. Today, the challenge is to ensure that the workforce can adapt as quickly as technology evolves. The economy has absorbed past shocks, but the disruption for white-collar roles as AI integrates into workflows is expected to be significant. The goal is to build a system where retraining and support are as automatic as the automation itself, turning a potential crisis into a managed evolution.