ANTHROPOLOGIA
Essays in the Anthropology of Knowledge
If you touch the elephant,
feel all over.
It's greatness is more
than one hand may reach.
It's body is too much
to hold in both hands.
By these human standards
of measurement,
perhaps it is fitting
that the proverbial Elephant
should be old, wise
and have a long memory.
By Hugh M. Lewis
This is another e-publication by Lewis Micro-Publishing.
Copyright 2000 by Hugh M. Lewis
(Copies of this text may be printed for personal,
professional or classroom use only)
Outline Of Contents
INTRODUCTION
The Anthropological Construction of Reality
PART
I
The Human Construction of Anthropology
I.
Anthropology as Anthropologia
II.
Anthropology as Philosophy
II.
Anthropology as Academia
IV.
Anthropology as History
V.
Anthropology as Biology
VI.
Anthropology as Mind
PART
II
The Anthropology of Human Construction
VII.
The Anthropology of Language
VIII.
The Anthropology of Psychology
IX.
The Anthropology of Abnormality
X.
The Anthropology of Culture
XI.
The Anthropology of Society
XII.
The Anthropology of Humanity
XIII.
Conclusion:
An Outline of a Theory of the
Anthropological Construction of Reality
INTRODUCTION
The ANTHROPOLOGICAL CONSTRUCTION of REALITY
This collection of essays comes to focus upon the
Anthropology of Knowledge;, including theoretical problems of the differential
distribution of knowledge and ways of knowing in our world, how knowledge may
be historically and culturally situated, how it may change in some ways and
remain unchanged in others. It concerns the problem of human acquisition of
cultural knowledge, and the influence of our biology upon how we know, and
even what we may know. It also deals with the so-called "worldview
problem" and the related problem of the epistemological status of
"common sense." It treats the problem presented by artificial
intelligence, the problem of "mind" and the possibility of different
"mindscapes." It also broaches the problem of the anthropological
construction of reality, the problem of "collective
representations," of symbols, symbolization and symbol systems,
mythology, ritual, religion and magic, the unanswered question of the
relativity and universality of structures of knowledge. It deals with the
problem of the representation of knowledge versus the presentation of
experience, the problem of the "history of knowledge," the role of
emotion, alternative states of consciousness, and pathology in knowledge. It
concerns the problems of structure and meaning, the strategic, evolutionary
and cultural status of knowledge, its function, its natural design, and how
human knowledge systems may constitute "complex adaptive systems"
that are cybernetically self-sustaining and evolving.
Though there are, have been and will long continue to be
many unanswered questions, there has been significant research achieved in
many different fields of inquiry which provide many critical insights into the
general problem of human knowing and knowledge. The anthropology of knowledge
is not just interested in the myths, taxonomies, kinship or superstitions of
exotic indigenous cultures. It is a uniquely interdisciplinary approach that
offers a means for tying together the work in many separate areas to
coherently address the more central problem of "what is human
reality" as this is defined as a product of our human knowledge and
capacity to know.
The Anthropology of Knowledge thus offers an unprecedented
degree of systematic integration of the wealth and confusing complexity of
information and understanding which is only available if one crosses many
academic boundaries. It offers the additional advantage of achieving such
general theoretical order while remaining as close as any discipline has
gotten to its central object of empirical study, the human being and its
human-made world.
The purpose of these essays then is not only to suggest
that such an order may be possible, but that it is already available in a
roughly recognizable, if unfinished, state. The object of these essays then is
to provide in a systematic, succinct and "objective" manner a set of
theories and insights that are or strongly seem to be supported by empirical
evidence drawn from different fields of inquiry. Except for one section of
essays treating the issue of the paradoxes and reflexivity of human knowledge,
these essays stay away from currently fashionable questions regarding the
"post-structuralist" and "post-positivist" or
"post-humanist" critique of "objective human knowledge" as
well as the problems of the a-historicity of anthropological knowledge, or its
anti-subjective character and the lack of a ground for "subjective"
knowledge in the human sciences. Though these questions are interesting and
important in their own right, and cannot be ignored in a larger view of the
anthropology of knowledge, they remain unresolved and irresolvable within the
framework of the objectives of this collection of essays, and tend to muddy up
what otherwise may be a rather clear picture of human knowing and knowledge.
******
These are designed to suggest new insights and
possibilities of thinking about some very old and complex problems which have
been at the center of much spilt ink in anthropology and related disciplines
of psychology and social science, not to forget philosophy, linguistics,
history, literary theory. Though the currents in the field have been shifting,
as the world rapidly develops towards its own ends, these essays represent
some 'problematical issues' in the field which remain perennial, if not
classical, favorites.
As an anthropological concern, the problem of making sense
of Human reality is infinitely complex. There are no simple solutions or pat
formulas that will cover all cases and explain all possible facets. We cannot
simply say that all human reality is symbolic or metaphorical without thereby
being over-reductionistic. It is not satisfying enough to leave the issue with
the answer that human reality is inherently ambiguous or paradoxical and is
therefore unresolvable in terms appropriate to science. It is not enough to
claim that anything or everything in human reality is relative, without then
stipulating precisely what it is is relative to.
There is little hope of progress in our ideas or our world
if we hold that the principle of progress is intrinsically evil or that all
ideas are equally interesting and equally representative of the reality they
claim to explain, and if we refuse to acknowledge the validity of any and all
criteria, or claim that because no criteria can be completely, purely
objective, no criteria for the evaluation of our ideas are available or
acceptable. Our minds are not well served if we leave problems of
understanding human realities as irremedially political, asymmetrical or
ideological.
On the other hand, our science is not well served either by
simplistic notions which reduce the complex subtleties of human reality to
simple schematic diagrams and to highly hypothetical and eidectic 'Structures'
or 'Systems' which are claimed to be directly invisible and yet to underlie
the patterning of all our experiences.
To claim that there are no simple solutions is not the same
as saying there are no possible solutions whatsoever. What is called for is
sophistication, not simplification, and elaboration, not reduction. To say
that our human sciences lack the same level or criteria of absoluteness of
objectivity of knowledge found in the physical sciences is not to say that
such criteria of relative objectiveness is not possible. To claim that all
knowledge is bound by hermeneutic horizons of ideological representation and
psycho-social construction is not to conclude that our human sciences lack any
empirical foundation or any kind of objective coherence independent of those
who know of it.
To reverse what is rapidly becoming a trite cliche' of the
post-structuralist critics of the social sciences, "the possibility of
translation is its impossibility." Anthropology, with its panoptic
anthropologos, may have been born and brought up within a colonial mentality,
and contemporary anthropology may remain a post-colonial compromise. Colonial
imperialism of our bygone era has been supplanted by a new kind of economic
imperialism of a hegemonic capitalist world system that promises to generate
greater and greater social asymmetries in the process of its modernization and
development.
But not all anthropology is the handmaiden of modern
development, and not all development anthropology is equally the servant of
USAID. Those who want to destroy anthropology by their destructive criticism
somehow fail to appreciate the point that anthropological knowledge can be a
tool as much as it may be a weapon, that it can be used for beneficial
purposes in combating human evil as readily as it can be employed for the
perpetration of evil in the world. We must take the contemporary critique of
anthropology seriously, but we must not take it so seriously that it
stultifies our anthropological sense of balance and proportionality about
human reality. Taken as a lens or a mirror it can be used to sharpen and
clarify our field of view, to assist us in exercising our judgement about what
is right and wrong with the world. But taken as a scientific substitute for
our humanity it can only blunt the edge of our vision.
If Anthropology has somehow failed, it has done so in its
inability to keep pace with the amount of change happening in the modern world
epoch. Its empire has come home, and all those people who were once upon the
periphery of civilization have instead become incorporated if unequal citizens
of a world system that is completely impersonal and increasingly exploitative
and consumptive of both human and physical resources. The peasant of the
countryside has now become the urban migrant of the city-scape, and social
entities once described as "cultures" have become but ethnic
enclaves and ethnically organized social institutions competing with one
another for increasingly scarce resources.
Anthropology can no longer afford the elite snobbery of
dealing exclusively with the foreign, the exotic and the bizarre to the
neglect of the immediate, the familiar and the commonplace. Anthropology can
catch up with all the changes of its world, and can amend its practices,
methods and theories to better serve the understanding of human reality as it
is and has become, instead of what it might have been or is supposed to be.
Anthropology, always an ambivalently mixed discipline, can still be servant to
both science and humanity at the same time.
*****
Cultural psychology is a relatively new and emerging
orientation within anthropology that nevertheless is the direct descendent of
a long tradition of an older Culture and Personality and psychological
anthropology, as well as those ethnoscientific approaches that fall under the
rubric of 'cognitive anthropology'. As such, cultural psychology reiterates a
basic theme that has been the unifying impetus of these anthropological
sub-fields--the theory of cultural relativity as originally espoused by Ruth
Benedict, and the related linguistic relativity hypothesis. But it does so
with a renewed awareness of the shortcomings of the old concepts of modal
personality or basic personality structure, of the possibilities for
organically based universal structures of cognition and perceptual awareness
and for the important limitations of the conception of relativity in
cross-cultural contexts and comparison.
Cultural psychology emerges as a fertile and renewed
interest in old problems that have plagued cultural anthropologists for
several generations and which had served as a unifying focus for those
anthropologists who distinguish themselves as "cultural." It plays
with new conceptions of cultural cognition and cultural models, of post-modern
notions of relativism, of culture and psychology as construction. It also
deals with the reflexivity of an anthropology of knowledge, a new
sophistication and interest in ethno-semantics and general basic categories of
cognition in naming and classification, in applications of artificial
intelligence, and in methodological problematic of hypothesis testing and
empirical verification.
Cultural psychology emerges as a field that is of central
and focal theoretical interest for general anthropology as a whole. It is
neither a residual category of study to be defined away as merely a
cross-cultural variant of scientific psychology, the purview of a "transcultural
psychiatry," or the derivative of either structuralist or post-structuralist
theory. Cultural psychology has come to represent the primary field of
convergent interests at the theoretical and empirical center of rather diverse
fields of study such as cross-cultural psychology, trans-cultural psychiatry,
ethno-science, social psychology, symbolic anthropology, psychological
anthropology, artificial intelligence, systems theory, and sub-disciplines of
linguistics including psycho-linguistic, socio-linguistic, ethno-linguistics,
the ethnography of speaking and communication, discourse analysis,
structuralism, post-structuralism, constructivism and critical theory, Gender
studies, psychic and psychedelic anthropology and the study of paranormal
psychology, the anthropology of power, hermeneutics and textual studies,
philosophy, history, including psycho-history, ethno-history, social history,
oral history, life history, the study of ethnicity, transactional anthropology
and the anthropology of performance, psycho-geography and cultural geography
Cultural psychology contains and effectively combines
elements from many different fields of study, but it is not exclusively any
one of these. It stands on its own as inherently complex, cross-disciplinary,
multi-dimensional and multi-faceted in its concerns--and yet it also stands as
a unified and systematic study of the foundations and varieties of the human
experience and the human condition.
Cultural psychology also takes as its central concern the
problematic interconnections of what is glossed as 'The World View
Problem," including the problem of human acquisition, cultural
conditioning and constraint, interpersonal variation, intercultural variation,
problems of personality, or personal identity, individuality and psychology,
the study of emotion, cognition, perception, imagination, reason, creativity,
etc., the question of the centrality of the role of language in the
articulation and inter-mediation between culture and cognition, status-role
positioning, the problem of normality/abnormality and "deviance,"
the problem of cross-cultural contact, acculturative processes, the related
problem of change, the role of environment and the ecological foundations of
experience.
The study of cultural psychology can be effectively entered
from any number of different directions, and can take as thematically
predominant any of several basic dimensions. But the value of understanding
cultural psychology is best gained from a generalist point of view that
considers synthetically many different possible perspectives as if forming a
central paradigm of study.
The study of cultural psychology has wider implications
that reach into many important facets of the world. Its value extends beyond
its own interdisciplinary matrix to include general and regional issues of
political economy, social structure, world history and civilization, and the
problematic of understanding human evolution, global ecology and changing
social relations within a world-wide context.
The perspective of cultural psychology is proffered as an
alternative form of science and as an anthropological antidote to
anthropology--its claims are to a basically scientific status, but one that is
not directly derivative of a physical sciences model or of a biological basis
in reality or human nature. Theoretically and methodologically, it constitutes
a third culture which may be defined by its inbetweenness as
"part-science" and "part-humanity," but which also stands
separately on its own.
We must either accept a broader, more basic definition for
what constitutes science, or else risk jettisoning our strictly positivistic
notions of science for the sake of maintaining a vital and productive
understanding of the principles and process of human action in the world. We
may say that cultural psychology is at once an historical science of humankind
and a theoretical and empirical philosophy about the human condition. It has
scientific as well as metaethical implications. It is based upon a general
orientation towards knowledge that fits science into a larger, inclusive
"meta-paradigmatic" framework, which it shares with other general
approaches. It is based upon a different framework for science than is
conventionally recognized--a science of such scope and power that it can cross
disciplinary boundaries without the loss of resolution that accompanies narrow
specialization and sub-specialization.
*****
My experience as an anthropologist of academia has led me
to conclude that a distinction between the "Two Cultures" may be an
important one that nonetheless frequently gets overlooked for what it may
actually imply, as well as the possibility of some "Third Culture"
with characteristic aspects like that of Anthropology a d other social
sciences that rest uncomfortably upon both horns. There is much evidence to
suggest that people in the sciences and humanities are doing very little
talking to one another, and a great deal of talking past and through each
other. Scientists and poets are not only dealing differently with the same
reality, but they are dealing with different realities. Not has it only and
simply been a problem of translation, but there often seems to be no common
ground upon which commensurable terms or understandings can be based. As an
anthropologist, I've frequently enough felt the loneliness of being of neither
camp, and in the sometimes hopeless effort to mediate between them, often
being treated as a traitor in both.
These basic differences of Worldview must be taken as
fundamental, and as underlying many of the other differences due to narrow
academic specialization and disciplinary sub-specialization. But the issue of
these basic differences becomes especially acute when it becomes a matter of
trying somehow to desperately resolve them and strike some kind of
conciliatory compromise when members of both encampments sit upon the same
dissertation committee.
The more traditional academic boundaries no longer best
serve the best intellectual interests of the academic community--thus we may
find an academic world order in which physicists practice philosophy,
philosophers preach science, anthropologists do biology, biologists attempt
sociology, etc., etc. Perhaps everything would be best if everyone just stayed
well within their proper places, but human beings seem unable to do so for
very long. The larger, deeper currents of dialectic which are threatening to
pull Academia apart at the seams, are sweeping through entire programs and
departments across the country like some kind of disease or, worse, civil war.
And in such conditions, the only loser is one who comes between.
*****
These essays treat diverse topics, but they are unified
about a central theme of the interdisciplinary structure of objective
anthropological knowledge. The question of anthropology as science will be
left aside, because it will be presumed to be so, from the presupposition of
an "objective" anthropology, though indirectly this question will be
implicitly addressed in each one of the essays in relation to the bearing that
its interdisciplinary relation may have upon such a question.
We must reserve a notion of what is generally scientific in
a broad-based field like anthropology until a wider field of view can be had
that necessarily embraces all the interdisciplinary horizons of its knowledge.
We cannot because of this seriously entertain a "paradigmatic"
conception of a "mature", theoretically unified,
"puzzle-solving" science of Anthropology. We must find anthropology
situated somewhere between the strict "puzzle-solving" orientation
of the mathematical sciences and the "paradox-resolving" orientation
of the literate humanities. We must look for a "problem-posing"
orientation which combines some of each.
We may find such social dialectics at the level of
sub-disciplinary specialization within the field, but when we refer to
Anthropology in general, we are challenged with a level of conceptual
organization and diversity that must be managed in a more suitable manner. If
the social dialectics that prevail at this cross-disciplinary level of
interchange is to be called "paradigmatic," then we must seek a
modified conception of what such paradigmatic process at this level must
entail. If we cannot broaden our notion of scientific paradigms, then perhaps
we should abandon it altogether, at least in the special case of anthropology.
And if we abandoned the label "paradigm," then what more appropriate
designation can we find to take its place?
Part I
The HUMAN CONSTRUCTION of ANTHROPOLOGY
We are all anthropologists under the skin.
We cannot clearly separate the question of the
anthropological construction of reality from the construction of anthropology.
How we construe the world anthropologically will define and be defined by how
we construe our anthropology in the world. Anthropology defines its own region
of knowledge and collective mentality, one that is situated strategically
amongst other regions of understanding and study. In however relative a
manner, we must locate this region and mark out some of its borders.
I.
Anthropology as Anthropologia
If we see an egg as essentially round, then it won't matter
what end it is broken on, but the real dilemma is trying to imagine what's
inside the egg without breaking its shell at all.
"Anthropologia" about Anthropology suggests a
kind of reflexiveness that is often heard about, but nowhere fully explained,
within the corridors of anthropology during the last decade. But the kind of
reflexiveness that the title of this essay refers to is a special case which
must be considered separately from the more general issues of a
"post-modern" perspective upon anthropologos. The title refers to a
necessary point of entry in this work, the doorway upon the world of
anthropology that is both part of the larger world and yet which
simultaneously constitutes its own separate world of knowledge. The two worlds
which anthropology embraces--the anthropology of the world and the world of
anthropology--comprise parallel but only partially contiguous planes of
reality.
The anthropologia of anthropology attempts to construe, in
as objective a manner a possible, the relationship of anthropological
knowledge to anthropology as part of the world itself, especially where there
may be a strong sense of "discontinuity" between the two. It
confronts what may perhaps be the ultimate relativity of our knowledge in the
sense that when we refer to the anthropological knowledge of the anthropology
of knowledge, or to the anthropological construction of the anthropological
construction of reality. We thus are attempting to "push the bus that we
are riding on." We must somehow study the contents of our anthropological
egg without breaking its shell.
How is this possible? It is something which only people, as
the creatures of ineffable paradox, seem to be capable. It entails the
acquired skill of passing back and forth between the thin membrane separating
the external world of anthropology and the internal anthropological world. It
is something that most anthropologists as field workers are supposed to be
doing some of the time--while being able to transfer some of the objective
sense of the one back into the subjective realities of the other.
It entails an ultimate form of "betwixtness" that
most professional anthropologists, as professionals, seldom fully achieve. It
entails the skill of remaining a marginal observer of the inside world of
anthropology, while also being a marginal participant in the outside world.
From the fully insider's point of view, it is like someone standing on the
outside of a window looking in upon the life of the anthropologist--from the
fully outsider's point of view it is like someone at the inside of a window
looking out. It is the kind of reflexive perspective that one achieves upon
the very threshold of anthropology as both a science of the world and a way of
life in the world. This is not to merely expose the soft subjective underbelly
of the hard-shelled back of anthropological objectivity, but also to render
hard-edged and objective what otherwise remains softly in the shadows.
*****
The reflection we bear in the mind's eye is not always
isomorphic with the image in the mirror we bear in mind.
Anthropology as praxis, as "discourse" is always
"situated" somewhere in the world. Because of its inescapable sense
of being situated it must always confront and cope with the paradoxes
presented by its own "historicity" in both the
"linguisticality" of and "facticity" about the world. In
other words, it must construe its anthropological knowledge in and of and
about the world as inherently ideological, and therefore always tainted by
many possibly unpleasant political implications.
We can concoct different theories about the ideological
status and character of the knowledge of anthropology in the world, whether it
is politically intentional or functionally unavoidable or structurally
ambiguous or ethically ambivalent--and we can thus reject anthropology as a
"legitimate" science (but maybe not as a "science of
legitimation") on the basis of these theories.
Of course, anthropology can effectively reconstruct and
integrate the marginal other as an artifact, as specimen, as a sideshow, as a
token of lost worlds, or even as knowledge embodied, while simultaneously
serving to help "nihilate" the other as a human being, and
anthropology can submit itself to all kinds of those mythological reversals of
realities which only anthropologists seem capable of understanding. Only
anthropologists can accomplish the cultural contortion of estranging the
familiar at the same time they make familiar the strange. But we must ask if
this is really all that anthropology can do in their constructions of the
world, if anthropologists should limit their activities as ring masters of the
circus of cultures.
We must legitimately inquire about our own legitimacy as
anthropologists--and all humans are at sometime in their lives
anthropologists--we must seek the legitimacy of our illegitimacy rather than
the illegitimacy of our legitimacy which our critics seem quick to point out.
*****
A blink may not always be a wink, but a wink must always
also be a blink
The internal world of anthropology must be seen as always a
special case built upon the external anthropology of the world. A science of
anthropology must acknowledge and submit to the same "hierarchy of
determinations" that ultimately controls the natural order of the world.
This sets up for anthropological knowledge a certain sense of precedence and
priority for its understanding of both the world and of itself--certain basic
"facts" must fall into place before more elaborate data and
relations can be derived. Human culture and human beings may not simply obey
all the "laws of nature" very well, but they certainly cannot
contradict them without suffering the consequences. And perhaps in the
achieved wisdom of our post-modern era we are finally beginning to realize
some of these anthropological convictions.
The "hierarchy of determinations" that we
attribute scientifically to the natural order of the world may be a necessary
predicate to our objective anthropological knowledge, but by itself it is
always insufficient for our understanding of the world. In this sense, in
anthropology the Difference always makes a crucial difference. To deny the
significance of such difference is to commit the common anthropological
fallacy of reductionism, a form of oversimplification of complex realities
which leads us to see people as machines, as animals, as ants, as cells, as
genes, as anything but human, and to regard society anatomically and
physiologically as a biological organism. This fallacy of reductionism assures
anthropology of its own lapse into the world of theoretical trivia.
The only solution to the error of over-simplification that
occurs when anthropology submits itself to the hierarchy of determinations is
to advance a kind of sophistication, and concomitant sophistry, which
conveniently side steps the entire clash of contradictory levels of
determination. A wink may, in the final analysis, really only be a blink, but
it is the inevitable difference that the wink makes which is most interesting
for anthropologists--any mammal with eyelids may blink, but only humans, and
perhaps hominids, wink.
The sophistication with which anthropologists must strive
to overcome scientific simplification, is that which is tied up with the sense
of the critical "human difference"--and it is the sophistry about
this difference with which anthropologists can effect the transcendence of
their own anthropological, "human-bound" horizons.
The only assurance that the "hierarchy of
determinations" guarantees for anthropology is that its knowledge will
always consist of an intrinsically interesting and internally infinite subset
of a larger world of "things" and their relations. In the world of
anthropology, we will always be faced with the paradox of having nothing but a
wink, and something more than a blink.
*****
The anthropology of knowledge is situated within the
knowledge of anthropology-- the limits of human knowledge itself constitutes
the horizon of anthropological knowledge.
The situation of the anthropology of knowledge begins with
the situatedness of the formal, informal and pragmatic knowledge of
anthropology in the world. We must inquire therefore into the nature of the
boundaries that mark out that region of mindscape we call anthropology, and
its relationship on a larger map of Mind with other fields of knowledge.
Furthermore, we must ask whether this entire conceptual cosmos which we refer
to as "mind" including all the fields and sub-fields that it
contains, has some underlying structural sense of order about it, or whether
it is not just the long-term product of a long, highly elaborate historical
tradition of "geist" in the production and "modes" of
information about the world. Every field of knowledge has its own separate
sense of history, of its "founding fathers" and main pinnacles of
achievement, as well as some sense, however solid or implicit, of where it
stands in relation to other fields of inquiry.
We must seriously consider the anthropological
possibilities in the boundaries of our knowledge, the dialectics that maintain
these boundaries, in the patterning and order of our knowledge in the world.
There is a sense of growing institutional specialization of sub-fields and
intersections between fields. The basis of specialization seems rooted in the
inherent limits of the human capacity to maintain a sufficient expertise over
a restricted domain of information in the world. Has the institutionalization
and specialization which has accompanied the expansion of knowledge in the
world, and the way that this knowledge has become organized, been an entirely
fortuitous consequence of historical tradition. Do the boundaries of our
knowledge reflect anything important about what we know of the world and how
we know it. In this sense we must see Mind and the cumulative stock of
knowledge in the world as preeminently a socio-cultural phenomena--we are born
into a human-constructed universe of meanings and symbolism that we transmit
and modify in their reconstruction.
*****
Anthropological knowledge rests on the foundation of knowing
that we do not know.
What is the anthropology of knowledge, what is its
importance in the anthropological understanding of human reality? The
anthropology of knowledge takes its cue from the sociology of knowledge as
this has been developed into a distinctive sub-discipline of Sociology, as
well as from its own background of a tradition of interest in the "mind
of the native" and the native point of view.
The viewpoint which the anthropology of knowledge;
critiques is the received structuralist notion of the "psychic unity of
humankind". It has been empirically demonstrated that even on the level
of the biological functioning of the brain, there are major differences
between the way males and females may think, or between how children and
adults, or how mentally normal and abnormal individuals may think. These
differences have to a limited extent been carried to the level of cultural
differences. What the notion of the "psychic unity of humankind" was
devised to defeat was the ethnocentric fallacy of "primitive
mentality" and the genetic determinism that attempted to link innate
intelligence and human capability to false notions of race. In the former
sense the notion of the "psychic unity of humankind" has some
validity when we consider humans as a single species sharing the same basic
organic physiology, or when we consider that all human languages are,
structurally, equally complex, sophisticated and potentially expressive. We
have some evidence that suggests basic cognitive or developmental
universals--the acquisition of color terms, for example, and perhaps of other
"basic" conceptual categories. Likewise we know that all humans have
an equal capacity for language and culture, and for symbolization, capacities
which they may realize in many widely divergent and equally interesting ways.
In short, we may say that the anthropology of knowledge is
interested in the differential distribution of knowledge and human ways of
knowing worldwide. It is especially interested in the ways in which such
knowledge may be biologically predetermined and constrained in basic ways,
culturally "constructed" and "situated" within a larger
continuum of change and social interaction. It is interested furthermore in
how different peoples may come to construct different cognitive, conceptual
and symbolic realities, and how this may even influence the
"presentation" of knowledge upon the level of human perception. In
this regard, the notion of the "world-view problem" and of
"common sense" are construed as central problems around which the
anthropology of knowledge are focused.
The anthropology of knowledge is also, perforce, concerned
with the "psychological construction" of reality, the
"psychology of knowledge" and of the nature of the relationship
between the individual human being and its world. By extension it must also be
concerned with a wider-based "socio-cultural psychology" which is
concerned with the way human beings, as members of certain groups, come to
define their social relations and interactions. This leads back to the
traditional concerns which involve the problems of ethnocentrism and the
culture boundness of knowledge, the problems of acquisition and the
nature-nurture dilemma, the questions of the function and structure of
collective representations, mythology, magic, ritual and human symbolization
may play in how human beings impose order upon their world, and keep out
disorder. In all of this, we must yet resolve the more basic question of the
anthropological relativity versus human universality of knowledge.
*****
Anthropology must unmake a world of its own making in order
to then remake it.
Theory about the Anthropology of Knowledge comes to focus
upon what can legitimately be called the anthropological construction of human
reality. Borrowing from the notion of the social construction of reality, we
may locate several important general themes of this theory.
Language as an ongoing discursive phenomenon, and as the
physical embodiment of conceptual knowledge, is at the center of this process
of construction of reality--knowledge is deposited in language, and language
is the principle means for the communication and maintenance of the
subjectively construed validation of knowledge in human experience.
The flow of experience in the anthropological construction
of reality is phenomenologically and temporally ordered, and from this
standpoint must be considered in terms of "praxis" and process that
is historically patterned.
The anthropological construction of reality is analytically
separated into three phases of these processes that conjoin in the same moment
at which socio-cultural reality reproduces itself in the individual via
acquisition. These phases are anthropological externalization of reality,
social institutionalization of the externalized reality, and the psychological
internalization of the human-made institutional order. As previously asserted,
language is the principle mechanism mediating these different processes.
The externalization of reality involves the principle of
human-openness, the notion of the basic natural unfinished aspect of human
character that permits the possibility for externalized development of
culture. Humans make themselves in the world by constructing an external order
in the world. The process of ritualization and habituation, in which
individuals come to reinforce one another's patterns of externalized activity,
tends to ossify and embed the process into a corporate form. These basic
processes of human activity become bound within and defined by the development
of a traditional order and the processes of social institutionalization that
reinforce the primary external order. Secondary processes of symbolic
integration and legitimization, based in the process of reification, reinforce
the level of primary institutions. Reification permits humans to construe the
human-made reality as if it were the necessary and natural scheme of
things--i.e. as if it were other than human-made. Internalization and
subjectivation are attended by the processes of acquisition and socialization
of the individual, and the creation of a subjective coherent order of reality
that also embodies the externally constructed and reified universe. Because
humans are by nature unfinished, these process of subjectivation, involving
identification and integration of the individual in society, is never perfect
or finished business.
There is in these processes a basic dialectic involving the
force of human culture and the biological being of the human being, as well as
another dialectic between the processes of individuation involved in the
internalization and the process of externalization. These basic dialectics set
up the basic anthropological process which are referred to as socio-cultural
dynamics. There is a continuous tension between the efforts of culture to
become embedded in the character of the individual, and for the nature of the
human to exert it self in a significant, vital way in the effective world. The
depth of the process is attested to by the extent to which cultural appetites
and aversions can become rooted in the individual to the point of physical
consequences, and to the extent that psychological processes that have an
internal source in the biological being of the individual can become displaced
and inextricably entangled in the external scheme of things--in fetishes and
emblems of identity.
*****
The sea of reality in which we must all swim for survival is
composed of the currents and tides of meanings we have made.
Anthropological process refers to those basic dialectics in
the anthropological construction of reality, and the resulting patterns of
human history that they order. We can recognize in these dialectics the basic
elements of world-openness and a sense of being unfinished, of
externalization, institutionalization, symbolization, reification,
internalization, identification, etc. But we must also see that
anthropological process is composed, at different levels of social order, of
different processes that are dialectically interactive with one another to
create the kind of stochastic complexity that we know as human reality.
These levels can be referred to as organic process,
involving the evolutionarily defined, and culturally modified process of human
growth and development, the process of culturation involving both primary and
secondary processes of enculturation, social process which is linked to
institutionalization and the transmission of culture, and what can be referred
to as "transculturation" or the process of human historical
civilization.
It is important to understand each of these processes as
separate and yet also interrelated in the reproduction of human reality. The
overall patterning of relationship which is referred to as anthropological
process must be considered as the integrated and synergistic conjunction of
the other processes. Its understanding can only be approached from a point of
view that is holistic and synthetic, and therefore requires a theory that
adequately incorporates these principles. The patterning of this overall
process must also be seen to be constitutive of the principle horizon of our
anthropological knowledge, in the sense that we cannot easily set ourselves
beyond the stream or scope of its historical influence in our lives.
There is a critical sense in which the reality of the
individual figures in the center of anthropological process, as determined by
it and also as an influence within it. Theory of anthropological process comes
into sharp focus in the manner that the separate processes become bound up
within the life of the individual--the larger historical streams of the world
come to concentrate their force in the biographical stream of the individual.
*****
Our window upon the world is the veil of our own
consciousness.
We are confronted with a central, basic paradox in our
knowledge of anthropology. This is the inherent transparency of the constructs
in which our knowledge and experience of the world is embedded and becomes
expressed. We lead lives in a kind of necessary illusion of the order of the
world. Our vision of the world is always distorted by the lens through which
its light is diffracted and diffused. Experience comes to us filtered through
our senses, our cognition and our language, and we cannot easily undue this
filter or step beyond its purview in order to clearly experience reality in
and of itself.
The screens of consciousness are not the only horizon which
we must strive to penetrate in our anthropological window onto the world,
because consciousness itself is embedded in a much broader and deeper
unconscious and cultural stream which channel the flow of our world beyond our
control. These horizons lie beyond the bounds of our own awareness, and must
also be penetrated before we can gain an anthropological window upon the
world. It seems as if the mechanism for doing so is nevertheless the same in
all cases. As consciousness is the mediator between our cultural constructed
world and our unconscious nature, it consists in bringing to awareness those
components of both our culture and our unconscious which constrain and
obstruct our vision of the world, and then to deal with them on this level as
if they were conscious, in the same manner that we deal with the distortions
of consciousness itself. In such a way we can hope to bring under rational
control and the constraint of reason what otherwise would remain in control of
our reason and rationality.
It must be emphasized that only the individual can
accomplish this feat, and that it is accomplished only in the sense of
perspective that can be gained idiographically and longitudinally from the
individual's lived experience. It is in terms of the individual's biography
that the diverse processes and confluences are conjoined, integrated and
interwoven in a way that, as anthropological process, makes sense. From this
point of view, discovering incidences of suicides or frequencies of stress, or
correlation between social factors and facets of personality, are only of
partial and "cross-sectional" perspective that cannot address the
larger problem of the history that lies behind these phenomena and accounts
for them in every case. Such statistics allow us to see how the experiences of
an individual may be shared and representative of experiences of an entire
population, and by doing so may reveal relations with broader factors that
remain, from the individual's point of view, beyond the horizon of
consciousness. But it remains exclusively in terms of how these factors come
together and make sense of an individual's unique experiences in life that we
must understand the problem.
*****
Myth may be the mother of all meaning, but math is the
father that makes sense.
We are led to a
formula for the anthropology of knowledge and the knowledge of anthropology in
the world. It comes from the recognition of the role that certain basic
fallacies of anthropological knowledge have played in the anthropology of
knowledge. The most basic form of anthropological fallacy, as mentioned
previously, is that of reification--the fallacy of misplaced concretization or
of hypostatization. It turns a being, a relation, into a thing, and a thing
into a being. It misconstrues those aspects of reality which are human-made as
if these were a priori and natural, and those aspects which are natural as if
they cultural artifacts. This fallacy can be construed as the crystal of
consciousness through which the light of the world is refracted and diffused.
But we must see that this structure of the veil of consciousness is composed
of symbols that are capable of the feat of displacement of meaning from one
thing to another, and that the symbol-logic in which symbolism is ordered, is
fundamentally 'mythological' in the sense that Claude Levi-Strauss had
delineated so well. The fallacies which mythology are prone to, in the
mediation of the basic anthropological contradiction between nature and
culture, are those of anthropomorphizing the unanthropomorphic, and of
over-emphasizing, or of reductionism or oversimplification, of those
anthropomorphisms as if they were non-anthropomorphic.
We can go a little further and find the foundation of all
ideology in this mythological substrate of consciousness--ideology that is
believed true until the fallacies upon which it depends can be shown by the
demonstration of history to be false. We can see the basis in prejudice and
ethnocentrism which regards one particular cultural orientation as
"human" or as "godly" and another as beastly or less than
human. We commit the same fallacies of consciousness when we attribute to
others qualities which are somewhat less than human, and too ourselves those
which seem somehow too human.
And the problem of digging itself out of the fallacies in
which it is embedded, constitutes the central paradox for an anthropology of
the knowledge of anthropology. Anthropology should not be too criticized if it
frequently falls back into the same fallacies from which it has just emerged.
In the resolution of this paradox we call upon the mathematical precision of
our statistics to rescue us--to the extent that statistics can be realized as
the a voice of history, and not as a means which ideologically obfuscates, or
takes the place of history. Statistics that are tied to history allows us to
separate within a conscious margin of error the possible from the impossible,
and the likely from the unlikely. We come to rely upon our numbers because we
know we cannot rely on our values alone.
II
Anthropology as Philosophy
The philosophical premises of anthropological knowledge are
the anthropological premises of philosophical knowledge.
All refutation in philosophy takes the same course. To
refute an argument one must attack its premises for its tacit presuppositions
or implicit ignorance. If one attempts to take it on in its finer, logical
points, one is bound to become entangled in the elaboration of its arguments
and thus to implicitly affirm its premises even while taking issue with their
conclusions.
If all philosophy can be undermined at its roots, then one
must inquire as to whether or not there is a single set of premises which can
prove to be "a priori" acceptable and irrefutable, upon which we
should proceed to found our philosophy. We must also face the seemingly
irresolvable paradox that if we say that no such a priori premises are
possible, then even this constitutes a kind of absolute premise which refutes
itself. In other words, is all philosophical truth to be ultimately based upon
self-contradiction and uncertain, non-absolute premises. The question as to
what are the first, non-relative premises of philosophy, if any, remains
unanswered if not unanswerable.
The knowledge of anthropology and the anthropology of
knowledge are not without some bearing upon this question--for a little bit of
authentic anthropological awareness can go a long way as an antidote to
untested and unquestioned philosophical rationalizations. The question that
philosophers steeped in a western tradition of rationalism ask of
anthropologists is whether or not their are any "universal"
structures of mind or value which hold true for all humankind, and if not,
then how might we explain the differences we encounter to still leave room for
the precedence of one point of view over all others.
By and large the only real reply that anthropologists have
given to philosophers has been the doctrine of cultural relativism; that most
philosopher's and anthropologists bound within the rationalist tradition find
unacceptable. Despite a few empirical jewels, the notions of the "psychic
unity" or "moral equality" of humankind seems taken more on the
basis of faith alone than cross-cultural validation.
Relativity of values, beliefs, language and world-view
seems to contradict the idea of a "psychic unity of humankind" or of
a universal structure of mind which is similar for all people. The hypothesis
of a "deep structure" for language, mind and world-view has always
presented an important and insuperable paradox--intuitively there must be some
biological basis to language, thought and collective representation, and this
biological substratum of Mind must be the same for all people. But such a
notion runs aground in the surface complexities and the myriad apparent
differences. A firm faith in the notion might allow us to take a leap of faith
and dismiss out of hand the relevance of surface patterns of expression as but
epiphenomenal by-products of the working structure of the mind. But we are
still begging the question of what exactly, from a scientific standpoint, such
a universal structure of Mind might be, how precisely it is biologically
grounded, how much the surface variation of patterning constrains and is
constrained by this structure. Though no one is likely to soon have any
definite answer to this important problem in the understanding of human
reality, an honest assessment and thinking through of the issues and evidence
at hand are not impossible to attempt, and may even prove to be profitable.
It is a common misconception of the problem of relativism
and of universal rationality to assume from the outset that the two notions
are inherently inimical and mutually contradictory--that the adoption of one
set of ideas necessarily entails the rejection of the opposite set. It is of
utmost importance in understanding both the problematic of world-view and of
relativity that the two sets of ideas are in fact not only mutually
complementary, but may even necessarily entail one another in a larger frame
of reference. How is this possible? The same deep structure of mind may
undergo an infinite variety of shapes and yet retain the same basic structural
features--regionally defined topographies of Mindscape which are quite unique
and different from one another may yet be traversed and transfigured in terms
of a basic universal structure of Mind.
It is important to distinguish in this regard different
terms that are sometimes conflated or used interchangeably. Perception,
conception and cognition are separate but interrelated processes. Under
cognition we have imagination, mood, reason or ratiocination, rationality,
common sense, knowing, counting, acquisition, communication, expression,
dreaming, memory. It is important to distinguish what may be quite normative
and evaluative processes of reasoning from more mathematically non-arbitrary
processes of being logical and mechanical processes of computation and
counting. We must sooner or later come to terms with symbolization, pattern
recognition, naming, reference and inference, language, collective
representations, emotion, and that always vague but ever powerful monstrosity
of the human unconscious. Somehow we must account for complex processes of
creativity, analysis and synthesis, as well as for possible rational
structures of typology and topography, taxonomy and classification, as well as
synaesthesia, intuition, alternative discrete or continuous states of
consciousness, and possibly even extra-sensory perception and paranormal
cognition. If we gloss all these distinctions under a single heading of
'rationality' we are taking a great deal for granted, and yet so many complex
processes are contained and co-occur simultaneously all within the cramped
space of the average persons skull. Human psychology has its work cut out for
it. And if this is not enough, then we might also want to consider the
problematic of sociability, instinct, heritability, experience, intelligence
and basic ability, special talent, individuality, identity, personality,
psycho-somatic connection between the body and the mind. Given such
astronomical complexity, it is not difficult to understand why we have only
just scratched the surface in our understanding of the human mind, and yet
such humility makes seem all the more absurd so many premature proclamations
for the bottom-line on human consciousness--simple solutions or sophisticated
confabulations to enormously complex problems.
The general problem is not uncomplicated by basic
theoretical and philosophical problems which are definitional, terminological.
We might distinguish between rationalist and empiricist approaches, between
a-priori and noumenal presuppositions of rational ideals and solipsistic
conceptions about trees falling in silent forests. On top of all this we must
also distinguish between presentationalist and representationalist accounts of
our philosophical epistemology.
*****
The only "absolute" may be the anthropological
paradox that everything is relative.
Relativism has been considered a cornerstone of the
anthropological defense against blind ethnocentrism and a deterministic
ideology. It has been considered by many to be the ultimate threat to a
science founded upon the quest for universals, the prerequisite of an
empirical science, which presents an insuperable philosophical dilemma. But it
may also conveniently provide a general answer for philosophical paradox.
Relativism has been considered to be many different, often contradictory
things, and yet has remained resistantly none of these things. The academic
war for and against relativism has been waged for years in spite of the fact
that the central doctrine of relativism has never been thoroughly investigated
or explicated, and remains today, despite a great deal of rhetoric,
fundamentally misunderstood. This gap in our understanding has been convenient
for many who want to make of the doctrine of relativism a straw man against
which they can favorably promote their own anti-relativistic bias. In other
words, relativism has been defined antithetically and in negative contrast to
what it is not, and this has led to general misunderstanding and
misrepresentation of the doctrine of relativism as just about anything other
than what it really is.
Relativism as a general theoretical orientation is not
synonymous with relativity. Relativity is a basically descriptive statement
about: 1) A general condition of relationships between things in the world; 2)
A general and inherent condition and limitations of human knowledge and
understanding about the world; 3) Both 1) and 2) above are inseparably and
dialectically combined such that the world is inseparable from the
conditionality and limitations of our knowledge and understanding about the
world. Given this basic, rather formal, paradigm of general relativity, any
doctrine of relativism can be said to be a general statement purporting to
explicate the implications of general relativity in the understanding of human
reality. It can be said that the problem of general relativity concerns
primarily 1) above, while the problem of general relativism concerns mostly
2), and that relativism and relativity are dialectically interrelated in terms
of 3). It is important to emphasize these otherwise pedantic distinctions
because it is important not to confuse the terms of relativity and relativism
as interchangeably referring to one and the same thing.
It is also important to distinguish between the notion of
"general" relativism versus possible specific kinds or expressions
that may be relative or relativistic in some way. In a technical and
completely logical sense, "general relativism" is a kind of
self-contradiction in terms, an oxymoron, if what is relative is taken to
infer the particular and to emphasis the differences between things, and what
is 'general' implies what is the same for many things. This kind of fallacy
points up the inherently paradoxical nature of relativistic ideas if they are
considered from a completely formal, logical point of view. There is no form
of relativity or relativism identifiable which does not embody implicitly its
own formal contradiction. What this kind of fallacy highlights are the
natural, normal limits of our own deterministic rationality, as well as the
inherently ambiguous, paradoxical and hence informally 'slippery' nature of
all relativistic reason and knowledge.
What the possibility of relativistic understanding
contradicts is not the possibility of general knowledge or understanding, but
the possibility of its unconditionality, its absoluteness, its a priori
structure, and its presupposed universality, hence unity and comprehensive
homogeneity. If science is presumed to be inherently and necessarily
non-ideological, then there is nothing scientifically inimical to a
well-grounded doctrine of general relativism.
It is hoped that what will be demonstrated is the mutual
complementarity and compatibility of relativistic and general understanding,
of idiothetic and nomothetic forms of discourse, relativism and generalistic
thinking are mutually limiting and dialectically interdependent--in fact each
presupposes and entails the other.
The notion of generally relativistic understanding also
fosters the illusion that there is just a single broad kind of relativism that
is applicable to many different situations and cases of reality. Such a notion
exists as a possibility, and for the sake of a theoretical essay on the top,
this possibility is presumed to be likely, but it also tends to hide more than
it reveals in glossing over so many different kinds of relativistic knowledge
that are possible. Whether these different kinds of relativistic understanding
are but different facets of the same general form of relativism, or if they
are fundamentally different or even possibly incompatible or contradictory
forms, is not a simple or straight forward problem to solve. These different
forms of relativism include scientific relativism, historical relativism,
social relativism, cultural relativism, linguistic relativism, interpretive
relativism, psychological relativism, epistemological relativism, cognitive
relativism, existential relativism, philosophical relativism, eastern
religious relativism, rational relativism, humanological relativism and a
final category of miscellaneous relativism that do not quite fit any of the
other categories.
While the actual ontological status of such a typology of
relativism remains a moot point, and the matter of which kind belongs under
that heading is mostly a matter of splitting hairs, it is nonetheless readily
obvious that given so many alternative varieties of relativistic ideas,
however ultimately fictitious or ontologically tautological, the question of
whether or not there is such a thing as relativism or relativity becomes a
rather trivial and pointless debate. It is more interesting and important to
inquire into what kind of relativism applies to what aspect of world, and what
are the different limitations and implications of different kinds of
relativism.
There is another important dimension to the problem of
general relativistic understanding, and this is to distinguish between
varieties of relativism which have been made explicit and those kinds that
remain mostly implicitly, left to be inferred from general concepts and
theories about different aspects of reality. Not all relativism has been
explicitly identified, and it is likely that not every form of relativity is
even completely explicable. Much that is relative in the world remains hidden
beneath the veil of our perception and conception of reality, and it it likely
that we will never come to grasp even a portion of the subtle implications
which the condition of relativity imposes for our experiencing and
understanding of the world.
It is also the case that some forms of relativism are more
relative than other forms, and that some kinds which are called relativism or
considered to be relativistic are not really relative at all, but are either
rationalistic, deterministic or else are to be considered false or spurious
forms of relativism. From this standpoint, nothing is absolute, not even
relativism. There is nothing that is not relative, including relativism. Thus
it can be seen that the possibility of relativism implies its own
impossibility, and that all kinds of relativism are inherently paradoxical,
and by extension, because all forms of understanding and knowledge are
relative, all knowledge and understanding is also inherently paradoxical. If
there is nothing that is not relative in the world, it is also the case that
some things are necessarily more, or less, relative than other things, and in
these critical differences lies the possibility for different values of
certainty and ambiguity of knowledge about the world.
Relativism has been confused and conflated with the notion
of determinism, an idea of strong or absolute causality. Nothing can be more
antithetical to a general relativistic doctrine about human reality than a
case for strong or absolute determinism. It has been the rationalistic
predisposition of the Western mind that tends to strictly dichotomize the
world in terms of its truth-value logic, and which tends to equate the notion
of an extreme form of relativism with the idea of determinism.
From a broader dialectical point of view, the doctrine of
general relativism actually complements quite well a Rational orientation
towards reality, and there is no necessary or inevitable contradiction in
considering the complementary and mutual entailment of fundamentally
relativistic notions about the world and generally rationalistic theories and
ideas. The efficacy of a rational and empirical science of the world depends
upon such a dialectic.
Relativism then is a doctrine that all knowledge about the
world is conditional, and it is the conditionality of our understanding about
the world that renders it relative. This conditionality is the product of the
interrelationship of things in the world that constitutes its complex
patterning. In the broadest sense, everything is related to everything else,
no matter how indirectly. What it is important to specify is the degree and
nature of the relationship between things. Just as there is a general
relatedness of things in the physical world, there is a corresponding
relatedness of ideas and percepts in the universe of the mind.
It is never enough that we call something relative, to
claim that language is relative or that all cultures are relative, is by
itself a meaningless statement, unless we then go on to specify precisely what
it is relative to. It is in the specification of the relatedness of one thing
to another that the efficacy and general importance of a relative
understanding can best be grasped, as such relativistic specification
constitutes the critical empirical criteria of our sciences, for it opens the
general proposition to the possibility of verification or falsification.
A general doctrine of relativism subsumes several
interrelated notions: the notion of likelihood, possibility and impossibility,
knowability and unknowability, interrelationship in interdependency;
contextuality; difference and identity; relevance, salience and meaning;
metaphor, symbol and significance; paradox, antinomality and dilemma;
dialectics; ecology; universality and uniqueness; generality and
particularity; infinity and nothingness.
*****
All people are part-time anthropologists-- the
anthropological imagination is a universal human trait.
What has been the raison d'etre of a field of inquiry into
the human condition? What drives young people into such a profession--what
motivations do they share? We may say that money or renown or security are not
the primary factors, because there is so little of any of these to be found in
an anthropological career. Nor has anthropology merely been an ideological
substitute for religion, a prop, a support, or crutch for the weak willed and
dependent spirit. If anything, the willpower and independence required to walk
the path of an anthropologist is extraordinary.
Some skeptics or casuists might claim that anthropology
lacks any single or higher purpose. In one regard it may be non-paradigmatic,
or poly-paradigmatic, and in another regard it may merely be composed of a
host of people who enjoy doing anthropology, each with their own sense of
reason and purpose.
We could rattle off a textbook definition about the science
of humankind, and claim that anthropology is the science that seeks to
understand the truth lying behind human reality.
Anthropology has its claim to reality a strong sense of
critical skepticism of the received truths about the world. It has never been
satisfied to rest contented with any one or other particular theory or world
view, but has always sought to seek cases in the world that might challenge or
disprove all such claims. It is this strong dissatisfaction with easy and
simple solutions to complex problems of human reality that has been one of the
primary intellectual motivations behind a great deal of field research. And if
anyone would claim that motivation can be virtually anything except
intellectual, then they are denying the organic sense of curiosity which
humankind seems prone too--a curiosity to explore, experiment, learn and
create from their environments.
A great deal of the romantic spirit that has led many
bleary eyed anthropologists to their first culture shock may not in fact be a
case of vicarious flirtation, but may be an expression of the general sense of
dissatisfaction with the received versions of the world, and desire to
experience and learn about differences in the world. In a sense,
anthropologists take their cue from the social construction of reality in its
recognition that not only may the native's reality be a "false"
illusion of superstition, but also might be our own versions of the world.
Having come eventually to this realization--an inevitable awakening if we have
questioning and seeking natures and a basic sense of honesty about seeing
reality. It is only a matter of time before the desire to find the
"truth" about reality takes us over--if it is not the others, and it
is not our own, then whose is it? This is a door through which we pass in
life, but from which we do not return.
In a sense, the production of knowledge in other fields of
science made the anthropological construction of reality a necessity. If
Darwinian evolution came to undermine the doctrine of creationism, we could no
longer accept on faith alone the doctrine that the whole of human history was
only several thousand years old, or that God made man in his own image, or
locked him immovably upon the Great Chain of Being. If Freud could claim that
the Oedipus myth provided an universal explanation for human religion and
social structure, then few anthropologists with any real curiosity could pass
up the challenge it provoked to their sense of realism and naivete'.
Contact with different peoples and their strange cultural
traditions must have been the greatest stimulus to the curiosity of the
anthropological imagination. Accounts of such differences were numerous enough
that they could not but help to undermine the credibility of our received
truths, and to cumulatively "relativize" our collectivizing beliefs
and world views. Acculturation went in both directions, and if the natives
formed weird cargo cults, then western scientists formed similar strange ideas
about "going native."
We can say that the progress of scientific knowledge in the
world created a niche and demarcated the territory upon the conceptual
landscape, a region of mind that was later to become claimed by
anthropologists as their own. Hence, anthropologists evolved into their roles
as seekers of human difference and identity in the world.
But the promise of anthropology has been something more
than just a vague sense of intellectual wonderment at the human variety in the
world. The search for the universal core of human identity in the world has
been an acknowledgement of the uniqueness and exceptional nature of the human
condition. So unusual has our cultural creativity been among the many kinds of
life on earth that it has provoked a profound and deeply sublime inquiry into
its source and its consequences.
Furthermore, the promise of anthropology has been rooted in
an enlightenment tradition that equated knowledge, discovery and truth with
the betterment and social reform of the human condition. There is implicit
about all anthropological research, whether it is acknowledged or not, an
ethical agenda about the possibility of anthropological understanding
contributing to the creation of a better world resolved of many of its chronic
diseases. There is hope that better understanding of our selves and our
reality will show us how to live better and more fulfilled lives.
This promise has made itself felt in different ways upon
different levels of anthropological articulation with the world. At one level,
anthropological enlightenment will hopefully dispel ethnocentrism and the
boundaries that are the cause and consequence of prejudice and discrimination
in the world. Take away many of the biases and chauvinism that keep people
isolated into their separate, exclusive communities, and the realistic
possibility comes into being of fostering a peaceful world free of such
prejudice. In another way, anthropology threatens to dissolve many of the
illusions of our ideas, common sense and theory, in rendering a more realistic
understanding of the human condition, one which would allow rational decision
making, social innovation and strategic social planning more effective and
feasible. Finally, there is a sense in which anthropology has provided at
times a critical voice for the voiceless, a practical and working defense for
the repressed and the impoverished, representation for the underrepresented,
as well as to help mediate relationships not only between different groups of
people, but top-down relationships in the articulation of power and authority
in the world, and not always on the side or in the service of the most
powerful.
Whether or not these things may be true or not, or how, the
promise of anthropology remains to fire the anthropological imagination. Once
infected under the skin and in the bloodstream, the prognosis for the
anthropological imagination cannot be reversed.
*****
Common conscious awareness is rooted in the anthropological
imagination of the possibilities of human difference
.
Not every philosophical system in
the world is as resistant to the doctrine of relativism as those of occidental
rationalism seem to be. In fact many find no problem in the paradoxes which
the rationalization of the logic of relativism inevitably lead us to--for
these philosophies the problem lies not in the relativity of knowledge, but in
the unreasonableness of reason. In the history of western rationalism we might
legitimately refer to a kind of imperialism of ideas that seeks to conquer and
control all imaginable diversity in the world, in a way parallel to how the
consciousness can be seen as a mechanism for controlling and mediating the
diversity of difference. It is to somehow integrate different versions to
produce a single, unified, coherent sense of reality. It is the challenge and
confusion of diversity which sometimes threatens our sense of conscious
control and which undermines the superficial coherence we have established in
the world. We must seek our common philosophical premises in the
anthropological identity of difference that we discover in the world.
It does not seem satisfactory to simply say that universal
good or reason exists in the world because it is an imaginable possibility and
a possibility of the imagination--this does not seem like the solid kind of
premises upon which to basis an anthropological philosophy of humankind. But
this is precisely the kind of paradox we are eventually led to conclude if we
accept the premises of an anthropological philosophy based upon the notion of
a common human consciousness of and in the world.
*****
The identity of difference lies in the recognition that some
differences seem to make more of a difference than others.
Philosophers and anthropologists alike, of the western
tradition of rationalism, have found it fit to discover the basis of the
fundamental differences separating people, especially those that separate the
"primitive mentality" from the "civilized mind". Whatever
the particular points of such an hypothesis, it has served as a "great
divide" of both human history and human consciousness. If we look deeply
enough into this question, we may discover that the basis of this great divide
is not to be found in the differences between ourselves and other people on
the other end of the earth, but is actually rooted in the very foundation of
our human being and condition in the world.
It is in this regard that I refer to the possibility of a
fundamental dichotomy of human nature, and to two main types or
"modalities" of being in the world which are fundamentally opposite
and to some extent mutually exclusive of one another. But together they exist
in an interesting kind of dialectic of difference which underlies the kind of
"mind-body" and "rationalist-relativist" and
"nature-culture" or "nature-nurture" dialectics of both
philosophy and anthropology. We may see both anthropological and philosophical
knowledge as continuously revolving around the central axis of this difference
in a kind of dialectical dance that brings to realization the creative
possibilities rooted in such difference.
How to clearly define this basic Difference that seems to
make the difference is difficult, to say the least. Maybe it is left brain
versus right brain, maybe it is male versus female, maybe it is analytical
versus synthetic, or maybe it is nature versus culture. But whatever its basic
forms, we must recognize the dialectical structure of difference as being
somehow fundamental to our knowledge and being in the world. Put from another
point of view, bilateral symmetry seems to be a fundamental design principle
underlying the recurrent patterning in the natural order, of which our own
human-made world partakes. Such symmetries are rarely perfect or balanced, but
always complementary. Humans, in both their anthropology and their philosophy,
seem to not only need both identity and difference, but to delight in the
possibilities the basic difference makes.
III
Anthropology as Academia
Our paradise has many poisons and much pollution--beware the bite of the
forked tongue serpent who proffers you the fruit of knowledge, and the sting
of the spineless jellyfish that drifts with the changing currents, and the
venomous scorpion that crawls in many moccasins and the vicious Minotaur that
hungrily awaits you behind the wrong door.
An anthropology of the knowledge of anthropology must
eventually take into account the contextuality of this knowledge within the
confines and context of its academic institutionalization. Academia comprises
a long and conservative tradition which has a very uneasy and at times
contradictory relationship to change. It can be argued that functionally the
one of the primary roles of academia is to mediate change for the greater
society. In this sense its scholars, as visionaries, are thought to "lead
the way" as a person using a torchlight or lantern in the darkness. But
academia as an institution steeped in its own traditional boundaries remains
in many ways the most conservative and resistant to change of all.
Any such anthropological perspective must eventually also
broach the basic questions of the anthropology of education, and, more
specifically, the anthropology of academia itself. In modern societies founded
upon principles of mass mobilization and democratic decision-making, the
function of the education system becomes critical as a the mechanism of
indoctrination and secondary socialization, as both a marketplace of ideas and
as a marketplace for social mobility within a
"techno-bureau-merito-media-cracy," and as a clearing house for the
institutionalization of change policy. The contradictions inherent in the
knowledge of anthropology cannot be understood if anthropology itself is taken
outside of its institutionalized place within this larger System that has been
bent upon global modernization and development.
*****
In the springtime of 1989, I attempted a
"mini-ethnography" of an Anthropology department in the Northeast.
The small group dynamics and kinds of social interaction, or noticeable lack
of it, which I had observed the previous fall semester, prompted me to look
more critically, and "reflexively," at American Anthropology as
forming its own kind of community with its own distinctive culture, and ethos.
Subsequent experiences with other departments, and subsequent research and
reading in educational anthropology, has served to bolster and confirm my
original views of the matter. As a matter of fact, very little if any
substantial evidence has come my way which would tend to disconfirm these
views--and this has not been for a lack of looking.
I think several elements in my personal life predisposed me
to take such a radically "reflexive" turn of mind. I have always
remained upon the periphery of our great society. I have conducted ethnography
previously among Vietnamese refugees in the states and abroad among overseas
Chinese in Malaysia. Since returning from Malaysia, I have never fully
reintegrated with the mainstream--but have remained aloof with the support of
my Malay Chinese wife as a kind of perennial, self-alienated stranger. This
existential state of being has been a mixed blessing. On one hand it has meant
an interminable liminality, accompanied by severe chronic poverty, lack of
opportunity, and desocialization from any kind of support network. On the
other hand it has afforded me to chance to adopt a critical perspective upon
our own culture as a kind of "professional stranger."
It is especially in the area of cultural anthropology,
which deals directly with the dynamics of cultural differences and identity,
that we need to consider the substantial role and influence that may be played
by the domestic community ethos of the anthropology department upon the
professional work of its constituency. If a cycle of seasons in a foreign
field has been likened to a rite of passage for the professional
anthropologist, the several years spent in a graduate program working
interminably upon vague requirements toward an uncertain degree can be seen as
another kind, and often more influential, rite of passage.
It is from this perspective that we need to consider a
variety of different, but related, points. The first is the articulation of
class structure, and the mediation of the process of class mobility, within
the graduate professional setting. Secondly, there is the role played by
characteristically American cultural values as these are implicit in the
background of the ethos and the egos of the anthropology department. Third are
the important social dynamics occurring within a small community, a community
nonetheless strictly divided along lines of class, professional status and
sub-disciplinary affiliation. Especially important in this regard are the
patterns of interrelation between professor as mentor, or "significant
reference other" and the student as undergoing secondary socialization or
"professionalization," as well as the patterns of informal social
sanctioning and gossip as a means of social control between students,
professors and other important members of the department. Fourth are the
structural-organizational dynamics of any kind of corporate organization,
enmeshed as it is within a larger political-economy, and fraught as it can
become by cross-cutting ideological commitments and practices--who gets
funding, and who doesn't, who speaks to whom, and who doesn't and why. Fifth,
and finally, are the kinds of dialogical patterns, the professional jargon,
the involvement in professional publishing circles, the command presence over
which is the primary distinguishing mark of a professional anthropologist
versus a student anthropologist-to-be.
Finally, if many programs, and the field as a whole, is to
be regarding as consistently failing to reproduce itself in the way that many
would want to see it go, at least a part of the blame must be put upon its
necessary but suffocating affiliation with a larger Academic system that is
becoming increasingly strangled by administrative overhead.
An administrative class has come to appropriate to itself
both the political authority and rewards of the public educational system, a
form of power which is not reciprocally subject to public purview or control.
This group has come to write, circumscribe and proscribe the charter for
endowment and restriction of research for Academics, and this has led to a
failure for the Academic system, as academics, to reproduce itself in a
healthy way. Such a class must be seen as a kind of parasitic group attached
by ties of dominance and dependency to its larger host. If many
anthropologists are seeming to behave more like administrators than as
professional strangers, then it is because they are caught within a vicious
political-economic system in which viable avenues for research and academic
career advancement have been severely curtailed by the administrative agenda
of cutting the budget and, implicitly, making more money.
We cannot clearly separate these elements one from another,
and in daily encounters in a variety of departmental settings any number of
different and variable influences may be operating. It must be seen from the
outset, a lesson I had to rather rudely relearn, is that any departmental
context, like any small community of one hundred or so people, represents at
least one hundred or so different sets of realities, problematic situations,
concerns, experiences, involvement etc.
The department must be seen as the daily forum for the
articulation of American Academic Anthropology. There are more than one
hundred such "islands" in the US that feature Ph.D. programs. It is
an anthropological archipelago that are crisscrossed by many intersecting
networks upon different levels. It is not a large community--the number of
active anthropologists, with their more serious students, probably numbering
under ten thousand. People know or know of other people in other programs, but
the number of people from the West Coast who know people from the East coast
is probably less, and then there is a whole mid-Western region which cannot be
forgotten. Individual programs do suffer some measure of isolation, and
loyalty to one's own program can sometimes override reciprocal obligations in
wider ranging lateral networks. There is even regional and local variation in
style and social pattern that seems to correspond to some extent with the
regional variations of culture and dialect to be found in the United States.
Programs acquire reputations--good or bad, friendly or hostile, difficult or
easy, mediocre or well endowed.
One dimension of American Academic Anthropology to be
reckoned with is the implicit, almost casual sense of hierarchy that is
pervasive throughout its structure. Professors are ranked according to the
size of grants they are getting, their record of publication, their success in
dealing with students, their aggressiveness, etc. Students are similarly
ranked, both by the professors and more informally between themselves. There
are those who come from the Peace Corps, those who are wealthy, those who have
had previous anthropological experience, those with foreign backgrounds, those
with high G.R.E. scores and those with 4.O's and those who get assistance and
those who do not. Departments and programs are similarly ranked within local,
regional and national scales. Departments may be big or small, prosperous or
poor, conflict ridden or tight-knit, those with big-names or those that are
obscure, those that are "all in the family" and those from which
hardly any students graduate, those that are materialist and those that are
hermeneutical, those that are Africanist and those that are Southeast Asian,
etc.
Like the American political system, the hierarchy replete
in Anthropologia is hardly ever set in stone. It is relatively open,
negotiable, subject to the vicissitudes of climate and clouds. It is a
multi-factorial hierarchy whose components are neither rigidly structured nor
specifically defined. It is heterogenous and many of its elements remain
subject to individual evaluation. What seems good for one anthropologist may
not be good for another.
One aspect of this hierarchical system is that it
guarantees the authority and is protection of the prerogative of those that
are higher from forces below. A professor may undermine her/his own
status-identity by sloppy conduct, perennial failure to publish, or by being
squashed like a bug from a more divine entity, but for all those students or
junior professors below, the professors reputation remains for most intents
and purposes untouchable and unquestionable. There is in this a paradox,
because one of the principle strategies employed by students and young
professors in "getting ahead" and moving up the ladder of
professional success is to take strategic and tactical snipes at other
students or professors, sometimes more senior. One's gains are frequently
measured in terms of others expenses and losses, and this remains the best way
for the genuinely mediocre to climb to positions of authority within the
field. It is not surprising that it sometimes happens that these strategies
sometimes backfire, or simply go awry, by misjudgment or poor calculus or
failure to anticipate the unpredictability of others in the field.
This brings to focus the principle point of the Academic
forum--the issue of social mobility, and the role of the department as the
marketplace and clearing-house for upwardly mobile people. This aspect of
Academia rests in an uneasy tension with the more scholarly and scientific
aspects of career building. Rarely is it sufficiently to simply or sublimely
love what one does, and never is it enough to sophistically navigate the
social web.
It is unfortunate that so little account has been taken of
this side of anthropological praxis in the formation and articulation of its
interests--from a daily and cumulative point of view, it remains the one of
the main forces in its dynamic unfolding. We can count a kind of professional
conspiracy of silence, perhaps an unspoken price for admission into
anthropological paradise, that yearly allows professors to dupe students into
being their clones, and then to secretly make self-centered career decisions
which leave their students in a kind of limbo. It is all too frequent that the
decisive factors affecting what may get published, or what gets signed, or
what becomes noted, or who gets funding or who graduates or who lands the
tenure-track line, are hidden from public scrutiny, as part of the "back
region" of anthropological culture, and may have little or nothing to do
with the advancement of science or the gleaning of truth from reality.
Remaining part of the gray area, the back-region, the hidden side of
anthropology, does not make this aspect of anthropology any less interesting
or important from an anthropological perspective.
It can be unequivocally stated that Anthropology as an
institution, as a culture, a way of life, as a community of scholars, must
continue to face certain rather severe limitations to its own academic
advancement until it finally comes to honestly and openly face its own heart
of darkness. The anthropological commitment to reality demands this.
*****
American Academic Anthropology struggles to free itself from
under the yoke of the Authoritarian American.
Institutionally, we can distinguish between American
Anthropology and British and French Anthropologies, and Indian
Anthropology--now there are many national anthropological institutions to
contend and compete with in the world. And this comes as something of a
paradox in a anthropological world which is rapidly loosing its principal
object of study--human diversity. The history of anthropology, as an
institution, remains rather shallow--hardly more than a century and a quarter
from its first inception in the university. This inception corresponded well
with the second phase of Western European colonial imperialism which sought to
carve up the rest of the remaining world for its industrial markets, and the
resulting need to institutional specialization of the knowledge of and about
the Rest. We collected the symbols of the Other as an Artifact of our Museums
of Man and our anthropological textbooks, at the same time that we were bent
on destroying the Other as a Man and as a vital text. And now anthropologists
are left to put back together the leftover pieces of a shattered and guilty
ego. The British struggle to bring time and history back into an a-temporal
and sterile functionalism, Americans struggle to regain the reflection of the
subjective other lost beneath the fetishes of a gross materialism, the French
struggle to reconstruct the destruction of their ideological structures in the
many pathways of the world, and the Germans, let's not leave out the
Visigothic Supermen who must now learn universal tolerance for dispirited,
Dionysian underdogs.
The case of the American anthropologists is perhaps the
most exemplary because it seems as though no one else in the world can quite
do it up on such a grandiose scale as the Americans can. The wealth of the
Americans has been proverbial, though it is now overcast by the materializing
shadow of the Japanese Miracle. The main obstacle which academic anthropology
has to struggle with now is not money, but its own ruggedly individualistic,
egocentric American character that becomes compulsively bent upon achievement
at any cost. The source of this ardent culture of egoism may well be tied up
with the puritan spirit, but it is reinforced on a daily basis by a militant
and fanatical form of materialistic capitalism.
This is apparent to any observer of the American scene, but
what are its implications for the way Americans have come to institutionally
define their anthropology. In this regard, anthropological achievement, like
all forms of achievement in American anthropology, is based upon a cut throat
competitiveness which often valorizes the success of the victor by the
victimization of its many losers. American children learn to garner the
attention of their busy parents by pointing out the errors of their siblings.
They are rewarded with toys and candy.
In academic anthropology, one's status, prestige and power
is directly tied up with one's position in a hierarchical, class-stratified
pecking order, and with one's capacity to navigate up the ladder above one's
compeers and before one's superiors. The ethos and pathos of conspicuous
consumption entails that the successful professor who wins the grant by
behaving herself will garner a status of untouchability, of
"godliness" and moral purity, that comes attached to generous
monetary endowments. One's academic character will become directly correlated
with the length of one's bibliography of publications, or of the renown or
significance of one's major contributions.
The critique of such a system is based on the spurious
emphasis it places upon certain social markers of achievement and identity,
the implicit denial this often entails of human weakness and also of inner
circles of deceit which work to capitalize and monopolize the acquisition of
resources to the exclusion of others. There is a resulting need to publicly
and professionally present oneself as if one were the embodiment of a false
and hypocritical form of perfectionism. This system is held to promote
institutionally a kind of paternalistic authoritarianism that is the
complement of the competitive authoritarianism that is the by-product of the
industrial marketplace, which values intellectual conformity and temporal,
anal compulsiveness, above all else. Within such a system, genuine human
individuality, creativity and talent is often stifled and systematically
frustrated, if it does not fit the dominant voice of the System.
The extreme development of this has been to turn the
university into a business, a profit-making, capitalistically organized
institution, in which the inflation of one's ego is directly measured by the
size of one's paycheck. The pursuit of knowledge that is regarded as
nontrivial and non-peripheral becomes strapped by the "user-pay's
principle." One's research must go in the direction of where the money
is, or else it will starve to death. All of this of course is justified by an
ideology of the "marketplace of ideas" in which the fittest will
survive. The important question to be answered is whether the system itself is
fit enough to survive.
The entailments for professional anthropologists has been a
kind of money-faced hypocrisy and a contradiction and complex of failure to
put into practice what one preaches, because doing so would entail
self-sacrifice at the hands of impersonal agents of policy. The other
alternative has been realized by a whole generation of young career
anthropologists who seem to have learned how to respect the hand that feeds
them. The dilemma of Anthropology has been to struggle with a tremendous
inferiority and identity complex, with a chronic and unsatisfied need to
justify its intellectual and moral existence in the world, and with the kinds
of ethical contradictions inherent to capitalist life-boat ethics. In such a
System, it is the good conformist who is also the rugged individualist, that
survives, while the humble shall die young.
The contradiction of the American system has been based
upon the incorporation of this inherent ambivalence, between the individualist
and the conformist, between the freedom of the frontier and the order of the
organization, and the strong imperative for survival and success that it
inevitably produces in people. This critique of American Anthropology may seem
particularly harsh and unforgiving, and may be in part so much sweet lemons
from an anthropologist who has been deemed by most professional compeers as an
abysmal failure. But we must somehow take into account in our understanding of
the knowledge of anthropology the place which anthropology has in academia,
and which academia has in the world, as well as the ramifications and
consequences of this positionality of its knowledge.
*****
Our cognitive maps reconstruct basic cultural models
It is perhaps fitting that the notion of substantive
cultural models that define our identity and relationship within a certain
cultural tradition has been centered in the anthropology of education, and in
seeing how basic models of class stratification and values are daily
reproduced in the praxis of the educational system, reinforced by the mutual
expectations and negotiations its many agents and participants. The shared
models we have of our cultural order, and of our place within it, provide for
us a basic mindscape by which we navigate in the social world. The notion of
internalization and identification which is intrinsic to secondary
socialization and professionalization through the educational system entails
that we assimilate within our character to some effective degree those values,
beliefs, habits, and attitudes which reinforce the particular social role with
which we are becoming identified. It entails that we adopt the predominant
normative and cognitive orientation of that group or role, and that we accept
as well, some of its attendant contradictions and pathos.
It goes without saying that some people will assimilate
themselves more successfully to a particular orientation than others, largely
owing to their basic primary orientation achieved in childhood, and that
others may fail at the same orientation miserably.
It is through this process of secondary socialization and
professionalization that we regenerate and reproduce the socio-cultural order,
along with its mindscape of knowledge, with each successive generation. It
also becomes the principle mechanism by which modification in the patterning
of this knowledge and order is effected, as individual stylization and
reinterpretation repeatedly enter into the process to alter the received form.
There is a sense of structural order in the direction of more basic changes
that may affect these cultural models and mindscapes, in the similar way that
all language proceed inexorably along certain directions of systematic
morphological and phonetic alteration. Some changes will proceed as a
consequence of policy and power, others will proceed in spite of such
influence. But it is the long-term and wide-spread consistency and continuity
of the basic forms of cultural orientations and its cognitive mapping which is
the most remarkable--nowhere within the boundaries of a cultural orientation
and tradition is there a sharp break or abrupt transition which is endogenous
in origin. Such models and their maps always tend toward a conservative
resistance to change, even while changing themselves.
Anthropological knowledge, as well, is subject to the same
kind of process.
*****
Borders were made to be trespassed--a rule is defined by its
exceptions, and a law, by its violation.
To be a successful, a researcher in the halls of Academia
today should expect to have to cross many conventional boundaries. The truth
rarely follows the outlines of academic discipline--sometimes the crossing is
counter-intuitive and unexpectedly serendipitous, more often it is frustrating
and meets with a great deal of resistance. There has been growing
encouragement of students to practice and get used to such crossing, but
structurally the system is still tightly bound to its conventional boundaries,
tending to penalize rather than promote those who smell the flowers in too
many foreign fields. The narrow specialist is still the most highly rewarded,
with the fastest and furthest career trajectory. Crossing boundaries has taken
more the form of small, organized raids into the intellectual candy stores and
granaries of other kingdoms, entailing the appropriation of the value and the
nihilation of the people. Practically everyone else other than anthropologists
have been practicing ethnography lately, with mixed results, at the same time
that they have been putting down the anthropologist as ethnographer. Often one
over hears the appellation about an archaeologist or physical anthropologist
who is really a cultural person interested in bones, genes or artifacts. And
cultural anthropologists, to be respectable, are often expected to conduct
raids of their own into many different fields. There is intellectual and
material capital to be found in the separation of others from their ideas.
The point is, though, that in terms of interdisciplinary
crossing and boundary integrating, Americans have done a notoriously poor job.
We are by our heritage monolingual and poor code-switchers. Though we work
hard to play hard, we are really best on the straight and narrow path. This is
because we are culturally obsessive-compulsive--our exaggerated need for
achievement, perfectionism, for ego-identity, leads to patterns of chronic
frustration and indirect expression of aggression which can only be channeled
in one direction at a time, toward a single target. Dabbling in foreign fields
is at best an avocation, a vacation, a recreation not to be taken too
seriously as anything more than therapy for the imprisoned soul and our
repressed nature. Part of the American romance of the cultural anthropologist
is the chance to explore foreign fields and to realize in an advantageous way
all those things which, in the context of our own cultural constraints, we
have learned how to repress. "Otherness" becomes the token of this
repression and the needs that it produces.
To date, though the future of anthropology and of academia
seems to be defined all along its margins in the rise of new hybrid fields and
upon the intersections between traditional boundaries, we yet lack an
overarching sense or know how to cross boundaries, and to integrate the
differences we encounter into a new kind of synthesis--a kind of
cross-disciplinary generalization which complements the growing
over-specialization and hyper-compartmentalization of knowledge. As a
community of scholars, we cannot and should not expect a nation of compulsive
MBA's to do it for us.
*****
The boundaries of knowledge are a map to the world of the
mind--ideas are the trees of its many forests, and intuition our compass.
The question of "mindscapes" and
"meta-paradigms" that define in some ordered way the boundaries and
"structure" of relations between the otherwise disparate fields of
knowledge is a legitimate and important one to ask. In anthropology it recalls
the perennial paradox of the relationship between culture and character, such
that the individual personality internally maps the external cultural world in
a way that reading from the map allows an effective interpretation of
experience and effective navigation in the cultural world. It brings up the
question of whether different "maps" may yield different
configurations of personality, such that we may speak of some kind of
prototypical personality of a philosopher versus that of a theologist, or an
anthropologist versus a psychologist, etc. Within the context of professional
forums in which proper conduct is defined, in terms of "secondary
acquired characteristics" this is perhaps a legitimate and worthwhile
question to ask.
It brings to view another kind of boundary which is
important to academic anthropology, this is the internally and individual
defined boundary that leads to the compartmentalization, and the resulting
need for reintegration, between personal and private and professional and
public domains of behavior, belief and being. And this ties in with the
earlier criticism of a soft-underbelly of professional praxis that doesn't
normally like to be exposed to public scrutiny. We may refer to front and back
regions of different intellectual and cultural orientations--practices and
traits and their patternings that may be distinctive for different fields of
inquiry or ways of life.
Certainly it is so that the demands of a particular field
of inquiry may reinforce certain characteristics or orientations of
personality over others, such that some more innately predisposed toward these
orientations will be more successful than others who are likely to feel more
frustrated in the system. And there are some basic traits that are highly
regarded everywhere in Academia--perfectionism, cognitive conformity, high
I.Q. scores, high achievement scores, class status, strong competitiveness,
egotism and intellectual hubris.
The other question as to what a "meta-paradigm"
of knowledge might look like remains open to speculation and unlikely to be
answered in any satisfactory way. But we can perhaps answer the question as to
what a basic relationship might be between any particular patterning of
knowledge and the underlying psycho-cultural dynamics that reproduce such
patterning. Art, whatever its particular cultural forms and processes, is
everywhere recognized as art, as are religion and science. The map of the
Mindscape of humankind may be very different among different parts of the
human population in the world--though the elements we recognize as art,
religion, science, differently arranged, remain apparent. Art, Science and
Religion may mean different things to many different people in different
cultures, though the basic human dynamics underlying these mindscapes may
remain fundamentally the same.
It comes as something of a profound paradox when we
consider the possibility that the only thing which holds this entire universe
of mind together in a social sense may be simply the intuition we rely upon to
find our way through its forests, and to fill in the gaps in our
understanding. It is no wonder that we make many mistakes, and remain, in
spite of our Academia, so imperfect.
*****
The Third Culture of Anthropology may be permanently marked
by its marginality between the other two.
Anthropologists must learn to live with the possibility of
two academic cultures that are by definition fundamentally two different,
incommensurable worldviews neither of which are they a part. Whether we choose
to define anthropology as either a history or a science, we are still left
with this unresolved sense of marginality between the two cultures, and a
sense of anomie about what our own, "anthropological culture" may
really be about. The best that we can hope for is to strike some kind of
compromise in our marginality--80% scientist and 20% philosopher, for
instance, or 75% historian and 10% biologist and 5% chemist or physicist--but
never can we completely consider ourselves to be fully hybrid
"scientist/humanists" unless, by the definition of our own culture,
we can come up with the formula which effectively results in such a synthesis.
In other words, we will always be plagued by the problem of having to cross
and exist upon a basic boundary that separate ourselves as well as our world,
until we can finally, ultimately ameliorate any such boundary once and for
all.
If we cannot define ourselves as distinct from either the
humanities or the sciences, then we must endure the consequences of an
identity marked more by what it is not, by its ambivalence between two
separate orientations, than by what it is. The predominant orientation towards
"science" by anthropologists has been as much a reflection of the
fact that "science" pays more than the humanities--if big money were
to be had by calling oneself history or a branch of literature, then many
anthropologists could be expected to do so.
But being an intermediate and marginal field of inquiry is
not always disadvantageous, for it permits a kind of freedom that comes from
being a switch hitter--there are many circumstances which arise in which it
proves more convenient to call ourselves scientists than humanists, and vice
versa.
IV
Anthropology as History
To refer to Anthropology as an historical science or as a
scientific history might seem somewhat like a self-contradiction--but it may
not be very far from the truth.
History has always remained firmly within the humanities,
though it has always been rooted to the empirical substantiation of its
primary data and has always sought general laws and theories with which to
explain the regularity of historical patterning. And yet history has never
suffered itself the pretension of calling itself a "science" in the
sense that the natural sciences are construed. And we must therefore inquire
as to why history has kept itself so securely a position in the humanities,
indeed, as one of the most human of fields of study.
Part of the reason must no doubt be that it has never let
go of its important sense of temporality of events, in the way that the
space-oriented sciences have. Another is that it had never let the notion of
human intentionality become obscured beneath deterministic theories and
laws--the human actor in the dramas of history have always taken center stage,
while the vagaries of the social climate has always remained perhaps where it
belongs, in the background. History has never been very far away from ideology
as well, and though it has often forgotten of this in its constructions of the
past, it has also usually kept its relationship to ideology in full
awareness--partly because the past has as often served as a mirror reflecting
our own ideological involvement as much as it has been a study of past
ideologies. Ideology has worked in our past as well as it works today, and the
historian is the first person to remind us of this.
But all of these reasons do not add up to a satisfactory
answer to our question of the a-scientific character of historical inquiry and
knowledge. History has been concerned with human action in the world, and the
consequences of decisions of actors. It has depended upon written records of
events which were told from a particular point of view. From this perspective,
its theories never are far removed from its central role of hermeneutic and
critical interpretation. There is often a paucity of corroborative evidence
and a lack detail that will make the stories it tells about the past seem
complete. History is always well aware of the rhetorical and artistic
character of both its primary documents and its second-hand interpretations of
events, and thus only with difficulty can convince itself of its own objective
scientificity.
In this regard, we may point up the critical difference
between a more scientific archaeology; of prehistory and a more humanistically
archaeology which tends to rely more upon historical corroboration. A
scientific archeology interprets its evidence without the rhetorical
uncertainties of a sense of human voice from the past. Its evidence remains
silent, and though this silence is the source of grand uncertainty, it is,
when it speaks for itself without the aid of a human interpreter from the
past, also a source of a grand scientificity. Scientific archaeology did not
come into its own until the discovery of empirically substantive dating
techniques which allow it then to firmly fix a global time-line in which to
tie together the diverse strands of evidence from many different sites.
Scientific archaeology remains today close to the facts--as data-bound as
possible--its biggest concern has been the non-scientific role of the human
voice that the archaeologist her/himself has given to the material. Thus the
complaint heard among academic anthropologists is not that it is not a science
founded securely upon firm empirical foundations, but that it is not
scientific enough.
The historian does not have the privilege or the pretense
of the archaeologist to assert the same legitimating claim of science. The
historian therefore appreciates the telling of a good story, and welcomes the
challenge of a different version of the same story. The historian knows that
the real truth is forever lost in the depths of the past--only parts of the
picture are possible. No matter how skeptical the archaeologist, as a
scientist s/he will still hold in the final analysis to the one final version
that invalidates all other versions.
The sense of general theory and kinds of "law"
that the Historian deals with are fundamentally different in character than
are those of her/his more scientific cousin. The best the historian can do is
to select and muster a set of clear examples that serve to illustrate her/his
theory--this is unacceptable from a strictly scientific point of view. The
theory that the historian creates is more of a synthetic, than an analytic
variety, and is much looser with filling in around the details.
A clear example of how historical theory works is the
"indirect approach" elaborated by Liddell Hart and dealing with how
great generals have been strategically successful. Israelis and Germans alike
adopted its theoretical principles, instead of the classical theories of
set-piece strategy that reigned before, and achieved great success. The French
and British alike ignored it to their own great loss in the opening phases of
World War II. The theory itself is rather simple, and yet a stroke of genius
in making sense of a long military history. This kind of theory is very
different from the theoretical approach that has been adopted with game
theorists who work from the basis of the abstraction of conflict--the most
such an approach might teach us is how to wage war efficiently and minimize
losses while maximizing gains. But it cannot tell us how to win a war and what
the human psychology of military strategy might be.
Such a theory is very different also from say an
archaeological theory of state development that practically excludes the
consideration of historical events and instead paints a picture in purely
abstract terms of impersonal processes and "dynamics" which create
history. With the latter kind of theory we develop analytical concepts such as
circumscription, prestige, hyper-coherence, meddling, information,
stratification--interesting and useful in their own way but they do not tell
us much about the actual events which occurred.
A much clearer picture emerges when the two lines of theory
and their evidence can be effectively combined, as in the case of the early
history of state development in North Vietnam, for example, and the rise and
subsidence of dynasties and the coming and going of warfare and prosperity and
corruption. In such an example, documentary evidence revealing the identities
of specific actors and events supports archaeological and other lines of
evidence to create a pretty thorough picture of the past of that region--a
past as rich in legend and folklore as it is in documentary and artifactual
evidence.
In this consideration, it seems that there should be a way
of systematically combining separate lines of inquiry and different forms of
evidence and different kinds of theorization in such a way that a firmer
picture of the past, its events and processes, can be worked out. I suggest
that this is in part the missing role of anthropology in history--the role
that should be played by an anthropological history, or an historical
anthropology, but for the most part, has been filled.
The call for bringing history back into the fold of
anthropology, and the critique of anthropology as an a-historical science, has
been felt sense the mid-70's, but most anthropologists would not consider the
alternative of bringing anthropology back into the fold of history, because
that would suggest for them that anthropology would no longer carry the
legitimacy of a committed science. The call is still being made, and for the
most part has gone unanswered, except for a few notable exceptions. And there
has been one noteworthy exception to this rule--ethnohistory, regarded as
marginal to the field of a firmly entrenched science of anthropology,
nevertheless it remains well within the purview of the historical approach,
and its example for a more authentic anthropology is not to be lightly
dismissed or disregarded.
*****
A History without a narrator, a stage, a dramatic plot, a
central cast of characters, a poetic conclusion, or a willing audience, is
doomed to become forgotten. It may be retold, but not for very long.
The question remains as to what a historical anthropology
or an anthropological history would consist. In this we have one clear example
in archaeology, but we must wonder whether this is all there is to the
problem, or if it is enough of an answer. An alternative example might be the
kind of culture history which sought a "science of culture" and
which was rooted to a classical notion of the "spirit" of a people
and to the diffusion of cultural traits from some center of origin. Culture
historians were detailed and competent ethnographers, but failed to ask
critical questions of their informants regarding critical notions of change
and influence, notions that concerned the construction of historical theory.
Environmental determinism was often enough a satisfactory conclusion that did
not need any questions.
More recently we have a materialist version of the older
style culture history in the guise of a scientific political economy according
to Marx. This form of history amounts to trying to fit the facts of historical
happenstance into a preconceived framework of abstract modes of production and
social relations--in short it is a form of historical descriptivism which
allows us to speak of different peoples histories as if these were in fact
global history.
We are left, in all these approaches, with an essentially
subjectless, unpersonified History in which time is seen as some series of
steps or stages towards some transcendent state of affairs. People remain
essentially replaceable parts of a large machine which follows its own design,
and in relation to which the designs of people are mostly inconsequential. A
great deal of lip service has been paid to practice and to process, and an
attempt has been made to bring the subjective speaker back into focus, but so
far this approach has not yield the kind of fruit it has promised.
So we are still left with a sense of absence of an
anthropological history History is largely self-organizing, anti-chaotic,
complex and stochastic as a system of individuals attempting to adapt and
impose some sense of order upon their world. There is a need to take into
account the unfinished character of human nature, with perhaps the attempt to
see history as the business of this nature "finishing itself" in the
world. There is a need to take into account the critical, existential
indeterminancy and doubt with which the human actor must deal with--humans
must make decisions even though they cannot know the outcome of these choices.
Then history becomes one of the accumulation of unintended consequences. It
also becomes the bringing to consciousness of the sense of wisdom with which
people successfully negotiate and achieve in the world.
There has been a sense also of a need to bring into account
the pathways and binding action that human networks have over time. Networks
are sort of pre-institutional phenomena that somehow endure through time. They
are defined by social reciprocities. But networks are historical
phenomena--trace patternings of the different movements and transactions
people have made. Networks do not have themselves their own sense of history
as do institutions--as soon as networks become corporate and gain a sense of
corporate history, they cease being networks and become institutional
phenomena. A great deal of networking history lies behind every event and
every great person in history. We see in the synchronic happenings of networks
the wheel of history itself in motion, slowly turning.
Beyond this level, we are faced with the kind of social
history that deals with corporate institutional phenomena and the kinds of
social events that such phenomena lead to. At this level we are faced with a
sense of super-organic history--the growth and development of social groups in
some integral sense, with its own sense of history. An anthropological history
must approach the entire problem of history from a holistic and comparative
perspective.
We end up with something like the history of the changing
institution of slavery in Southwestern Europe in the early Middle Ages. In
such a history, the individual voice of the actor may be drowned out in a
chorus of many actors or a generalized voice of the historian--of their
responses and adaptation to the existential dilemmas presented by the
dominance of certain forms of institutional practices. There is a sense of an
anthropological worldview that is an intrinsic part of this picture. A
classical world view, a slave class regarded as fully dehumanized and
desocialized creatures, and the gradual humanization of this view via Church
Doctrine which first changed, and eventually, undermined the institution of
slavery in the world, even though the clergy at few points opposed, and often
supported, the institution.
*****
Time's arrow has no beginning, middle or end. It flies in
every direction at once, and yet ends nowhere.
As Melville Herskovits so aptly pointed out, to understand
change we need the baseline of stasis, and to understand stasis we need to
compare it to change. Our very notion of scientific causality and
determination is bound within a classical conception of Universal time as
itself a steady-state. Geo-physical history deals with processes and patterns
of change which are very different from Biological history, and the latter
deal with processes which are also different from Human historical patternings
of change. The history that is so situated within the humanities, is
"human history" as opposed to "natural history". In this
regard any general history must come to grips with the phenomena of change
In this we can recognize a basic relationship between
history and anthropology--history has traditionally dealt with change through
time in a similar way that anthropology deals with differences across space
that imply change. In this way history is seen as diachronic in a way
complementary to how anthropology is viewed synchronically. It has been this
rupture with time that has allowed anthropology to substitute humanly
a-historical evolutionary frameworks upon spatially distributed differences of
cultural groupings, implicitly excluding a sense of local history or
person-centered time.
In a sense the study of tradition as institution is the
study of a kind of embedded history--but a sense of history which lacks the
linear ordering of a time line. Thus an anthropological history must be seen
as a kind of comparative history that studies the processes of change in
different places at the same time and in the same places at different times.
In regard to the notion of change, we must see the
conception of time as being intrinsic. We live in a tradition in which time is
Universally homogenous, perfect, cyclical in its calendrical, astronomical
rhythms, and that unfolds in a linear, absolutely continuous fashion. This
tradition does not consider the possibility of alternative times, of
asynchronous time, or of subjective time that flows at different rates, that
accelerates or slows down, or of nonlinear, non-cyclical time that
nevertheless curves. If we can consider that our spatial perception is
hyperbolically distorted and that we superimposed upon this distortion a
classical, Euclidean conception of space, we might suffer the same kind of
hyperbolic distortion of our temporal perception, such that events of greater
distance have a fundamentally different value than more proximate occurrences.
From an historical perspective of the anthropological
construction of reality, we must recognize how time and temporality constrain
and order the biographical and social ordering of our lives. Our lives either
unfold upon some schedule or else fail too, when our time is out of sync with
others, or with some "standard" time, we are left in a period of
actionless "waiting"--all are projects are ordered by the
constraints of time. The temporal ordering of life is intrinsic to
consciousness and phenomenological experience--a sense of temporality is
suspended in sleep. Temporality confronts our everyday lives with an
overarching facticity that we must contend, and it becomes coercive in the
ordering of our experiences and life events. The basic aspect of human time,
and the history that is based on this time, is its subjective temporality.
*****
Anthropological history is human-made history.
An anthropological history is rooted in the synthesis that
comes from a dialectical engagement between change and stasis, culture and
nature, means and ends. As such it is holistic and mythological in the sense
that it is based upon the same symbolic processes as are the production of
human history itself. It is comparative in the sense that it seeks the
difference of change and identity of stasis over both space and time. Any
historical science must come to grips centrally with the phenomena of change
in our reality--the human experience of change, and its objective facticity in
the world. The over-determination or indeterminancy of change is only one
question we can ask of it.
Change seems to be a universal phenomena which relativizes
our universe. We measure change by time, and we mark time by the changes it
produces. If we live in a universe in which everything in it is continuously
changing at some differential rate, then we are left with no non-relative
ground upon which to anchor our historical science. We do not really
understand the significance or possible structure of change itself. We only
know it as entropy and chaos that is guaranteed by our laws of thermodynamics.
From the standpoint of chaos, change is the inherent contextual tendency
towards randomization--or "disorder". Whatever the finite structure
that is bounded, it is always situated within a larger universe that is held
to be essentially chaotic and entropic.
In other words, from this perspective, order is always
local, and chaos is always global, unless we see chaos itself as a kind of
ordering phenomena--the order of disorder--something which by definition is
statistically highly improbable if not impossible. Such randomization amounts
to a certain threshold of "background noise" which precludes
maximization of the carrying capacity of our systems of transmission and
communication. But change is only disordering from a fixed point of view.
Change can also lead towards greater order and efficiency, or else down an
alternative pathway or direction that is effective neutral to the order. All
systems permit a certain amount of internal looseness or flexibility that is
regarded as vital dimension of their adaptability in a larger world.
Furthermore, change that leads an entity up the hill toward a higher level of
adaptation, whether it is blind or intentional, must be construed from the
standpoint of local order as being "anti-entropic."
All complex systems demonstrate this
"anti-entropic" character. Such systems augment information upon
increasing levels of integration, and thus are regarded as cybernetic and
dialectical systems.
From this standpoint, an anthropological history must be
regarded as the documentation of the historical patterning of
"anthropological process" as it has occurred upon its several
different analytical levels, in relation to the anthropological construction
of human reality. From the standpoint of human history, we might consider its
principle interest as being the complexity of human process--of human change
over time upon its many levels of significance. At one level, processes which
are fundamentally subjective and phenomenological in orientation, are upon
another level "trans-cultural" and civilization--almost completely
impersonal except inasmuch as this level is represented by human actors with
parts to play and as much as this level has certain subjective human
entailments for the adaptation of the individual in the person's biographical
location. Between these two levels is a range of intermediate levels in which
different kinds of transformation is effected. Anthropological history is
interested in the process of human transformation, of anthropological change,
with a continuum of experience defined at one end by the personal subjectivity
of the individual, and at the other end by the transpersonal relations of the
entirety of humankind.
*****
We can peer only so deeply into the well of time.
Anthropological History must recognize the reflexive
horizon of its own myopic scope-- the surface of the present obstructs our
view into time, such that we can view both the past or the future by
occasional glimpses of what lay just beneath the surface. From our
anthropological standpoint, we approach an historical horizon of virtual
infinity at which 10,000 years might as well be 100,000 years that might as
well be a million, even though the difference in magnitude may be tenfold. In
other words, there is some optimum depth of temporal view beyond which
darkness and distortion occludes our view, shrouding even the little evidence
we may have in silent mystery. For people who have a science which is hardly a
century old, and whose own experience may hardly span a half or a quarter of a
century, we have a tremendous difficult time imagining the differences that a
millenium or a million years can make.
Thus, as mentioned previously, we then seek scientific or
mythological substitutes to fill in for our lack of a true sense of historical
happenstance--and in such filling in we often come to confuse science that
depends upon history with a science based upon mythology. And if this seems
threatening to some whom hold dearly to their anthropological theories of
human evolution, we must consider the role that historical documentation
places in scientific method. Scientific empiricism is rooted in the public
record of historical patterning of phenomena. Such patterning is held to be
predictable, and therefore able to be manipulated. The historical baseline of
scientific research is of course the universal, atomic history that is
considered "perfect". In other words all scientific phenomena, as
empirical "happenings" to which we bear public witness, are by
definition "historical phenomena".
The problem anthropologist's face in studying either deep
history or the great differences between people is that we rapidly reach a
point at which our scientific methods of corroboration give way, and we are
faced with a need to invent a science which will somehow take over in the face
of the lack of historical evidence. When the historical record becomes
fragmentary and sketchy at best, and absent at worst, we then need to find
some satisfactory kind of "scientific" substitute that will take the
place of history. We rely on theory to make sense and fill in, but we can
never be very sure that the theory we rely on isn't itself as tied to our own
present as we are. We have fine-tuned and developed many ingenious techniques
in this quest for a science of deep time, but we have not yet solved the
essential problem of history which it presents to us.
We have fallen back upon the biological theory of evolution
as our basic model in this regard--for it has been the one effective solution
that science has offered to the problem of time and change. But the
anthropological dilemma with this is that humans, by definition, have sort of
side-stepped and at least momentarily stepped beyond the purview of biological
evolution, so that we cannot be too sure yet how much evolutionary process has
impinged upon the making of human history. We have not yet devised a
satisfactory theory of human cultural development in anthropology that might
take the place of evolutionary theory in biology
*****
To deny a people's history is to deny their
humanity--ideologically we all live with such denial--thus we momentarily
suspend time itself and step beyond the purview of history in the making. But
this is part of the historical conundrum as well.
One of the most profound and insightful criticisms of
anthropology has been its implicit denial of the history of the other, and its
ideological complicity in the subjugation of the other to our own sense of
history. The other is treated as an artifact that enters our own historical
stream at the very moment that it is detached from its own history. The sense
of the rest of the world as having its own history separate and other than the
history of the west has been late to dawn upon the anthropological horizon.
There was a sense that great socio-cultural distance or difference could be
somehow directly translated into evolutionary distance as well. We have come
to blindly impose our own conceptions and structures of temporality upon the
divergent temporalities of the rest of the world without the slightest regard
to the possibility that other people's may order the temporal structure of
their experience in ways fundamentally different from our own. A great deal of
"scientific" anthropology remains sacredly rooted to this basic
proposition of Western rational time that is also, necessarily, universal
time.
Foreignness and Strangeness, perceived as difference which
is threatening and disorderly to our local sense of order, has been equated to
temporal disorientation, or to the suspension of "normal time" and
therefore carried an implicit presumption of error or abnormality about it. To
bring the other into the purview of our normal frames of temporality was in
effect to "orient" and "reorient" their temporality in
such a way that it made sense and no longer "disoriented"--it was a
means of rehabilitating the strange in order to render it familiar. We had to
bring them ideologically into our own ideological sense of history, whether
they belonged there historically or not. In a sense, we sought the secular
"scientific" salvation of the "spirit" of people in a way
comparable to how missionaries have sought the religious salvation of their
souls through conversion.
Our appropriation of the "essence" of the other,
and our nihilation of their history, amounts to no less than the denial of
their humanity, of their subjective temporality, such that we thereby
legitimate policies which eventuate in their victimization, exploitation or
destruction as a separate and distinct people. And we continue to do so today.
V.
Anthropology as Biology
Human nature alone cannot determine culture, because it is
itself biologically underdetermined.
There are many
"scientists" in anthropology today who identify themselves as of a
"biological" orientation--what this amounts to is that they have
"solved" the paradox of the scientificity of anthropological history
by the adoption of the biological paradigm of evolutionary theory. Their
claim, in one form or another, amounts to the premises that biological nature
must somehow underlie and therefore predetermine cultural patterning, and that
therefore a genuine science of anthropology must be founded upon a human
biology, and a biology of culture.
From a logical standpoint this view makes sense if we
accept that human biology is a panhuman universal and that humankind
ultimately evolved, along with our culture, from a biological background. This
viewpoint also entails a necessary form of bio-cultural functionalism which
would assert that cultural institutions and practices must ultimately be
explained on the basis of how they meet basic biological human needs and
predispositions--reproduction, physiological maintenance, organic health, etc.
This viewpoint, when appealed to on the basis of common sense, seems to make
supreme sense because, not only is it coaxed in the kind of direct language of
causality, but also it fits deep-seated folk beliefs dealing with attributes
and requirements of "human nature," with "blood" being
thicker than water, about evolutionary progress, and so on.
Because the people who adopt such a viewpoint also tend to
be politically aggressive, this orientation within American Anthropology has
achieved a certain ascendancy and predominance over other perspectives within
departments across the country, so much so that it has largely come to be the
"received" view of anthropology in spite of radical discontent and
opposition.
Though the specific formula for how the causal connections
between nature and culture were established varies considerably, there is
common consensus which way the causal arrows point--that human biology must
underlie and determine culture and that what ever is pan-human must, by
definition, be natural.
A common presupposition of this orientation is that there
must exist some form of social selection, or set of selective factors, which
are genetically and evolutionarily based, which predetermines cultural
patterning. It used to be applied rather unreservedly to "races"
until the entire notion of "race" was shown to be untenable and
false. More recently it has been applied to poor single mothers and their
children, prostitutes, homosexuals, the mentally ill, alcoholics, socio-paths
and chronic criminals and other people are socially "marked" in some
special way. A common prescription for such an approach has been to
hypothesize a genetic trait or "linkage" which accounts for the
disproportionate frequency of some personality trait among a certain group of
people--though few if any such linkages have been clearly and unequivocally
demonstrated.
An inversion of this entire chain of reasoning is to
presuppose the existence of such a linkage without the need to demonstrate it,
and then to propose a selectionist regime and evolutionary formula for the
entire history of humankind based on this presupposition. In this account,
there is such a thing as an "altruistic gene" which makes one person
sacrifice her/himself, or someone else, for the fitness of the group. Of
course, there should be some a priori way of knowing whose genes will be
selected and whose sacrificed. There is kin-fitness and
group-fitness--inferior genes should know enough to discount themselves out of
the game of selection when and if the rules of competition, of survival of the
fittest, no longer apply. From this standpoint, though biological evolution is
essentially blind and random, human evolution has been based upon a genetic
sentience that guides humankind in its cultural selection.
The popularity of this kind of account in academia is
surprising when we consider its essentially nonscientific basis, and the lack
of direct empirical corroboration of its central linkage--but the popularity
of the belief in creationism and in anti-abortionism is also surprising in
modern world dominated by a secular scientific orientation.
It seems necessary, if unfortunate, to have to point out
yet another time the extreme social dangers of this kind of thinking in the
legitimization of policies which discriminate and exclude certain social
groups or categories from participation or normal involvement in society. If
we can define the probability of inferior genes in single unwed mothers and
their offspring, then it makes supreme social sense from an evolutionary
standpoint that we should not support these people and encourage their
reproduction. Eugenic policies that try to propagate the genes of the best and
the brightest are also based in the same form of social racist reasoning. It
is a small step from such an implicit social policy to more systematic
policies of sterilization, or even genocide of out-groups.
There is also a formulaic kind of prescription for writing
so many "just so" stories detailing the critical events of the
history of human evolution in orderly and necessary fashion--despite the fact
that for the most part these stories contain few certifiable facts and many
mythological conclusions.
All of this has been promoted in spite of the actual
situation that nowhere has the specific boundary between human nature and
culture been clearly defined, and it seems more reasonable to consider such a
connection to be more "fuzzy" than focused--underdetermined rather
than determining. Most theorists today reject a strong nature-nurture
dichotomy, and see human nature, if anything, as unfinished nature. The
reductionism of the complexity of cultural phenomena to the point of rendering
its explanation as a mere end of a long chain of causality ultimately stemming
from mystical, sentient, altruistic genes, and the implicit denial of human
history which the embracing of a theory of biological evolution entails,
Biological anthropology has done wondrous feats when it has
remained close to the evidence and not strayed too far in foreign fields. It
has given us a glimpse of the humanness of Lucy that is remarkable, and it has
slowly begun filling in some of the missing pieces of the grand puzzle of
human origins. But when its priests venture somewhat monopolistically into the
field of culture, it invariably founders in deep, and troubled, waters.
*****
If we wish to find the roots of our nature, then we must
seek the heart of our culture.
The counter arguments against this kind of biological
determinism are based on a number of different lines of evidence. One of the
most revealing are the few unfortunate experiments in extreme cultural
deprivation of young children, who subsequent seem to lose most of the
capacity for cultural acquisition, and remain in a severely retarded state of
underdevelopment. These cases strongly support a theory for the critical role
that an effective cultural environment plays in early infant development.
Children will simply not "fill" in the deficits of their environment
by falling back upon their genetic resources--normal development of human
nature has come to depend upon the continuous presence of a cultural
environment in order to fully realize its capacity. An extension of this is
the early presence of principle care takers and role models who serve as the
principle mediators of primary identification--a process so important for
normal, later secondary socialization
Nature and nurture are not connected in any simple,
determinative way--they are seen to be interdependent and inextricably
entangled in the ongoing reproduction of the social world through the
reproduction of the individual.
Recent evidence in the effect of basic hormones on early
brain development shows that the presence or absence of certain levels of
hormone will determine how the brain will subsequently become organized. There
is apparently a significant difference in brain function between women and men
as a result of this early influence in development. Indeed, much of the
significant brain development toward a fully human state of consciousness
takes place during the several years after birth, and depends very greatly
upon the relative presence or absence of appropriate environmental stimuli.
Factors of social class are seen to have played a significant part in
behavioral development in neonates as young as 12 weeks old--no doubt similar
factors continue to play an important part throughout an individual's
life-time, and into the next generation.
We must acknowledge the genetic linkage with some forms of
disease, and the possible genetic predisposition of some character traits of
personality, but the extent to which we can generalize from these few
instances to elaborate models about socio-cultural patterns of behavior,
institutions, collective representations or attitudes and beliefs held by
adults remains most tenuous.
If genes can be demonstrated to lack the necessary
prescience to direct cultural selection, it can also be shown that
institutions and people in society also generally lack an ability to
deliberately direct selective processes in its social reproduction and
transmission. Surely there is a correlation between class status, body
stature, nutritional wellbeing and general health, and surely those with a
monopoly on material resources will tend to be endogamous to assure their
posterity the same advantageous monopoly. This should not be interpreted as a
deliberate selectionist strategy of human cultural evolution. Such people may
and probably will entertain some superhuman ideology about the innate
superiority of their own group or class over other peoples. But there is no
reason why we should claim for this ideological ethnocentrism a privileged
evolutionary status.
There is also no reason why we should claim the historical
proclivity for bloodshed and war as rooted in an innate aggressiveness. Though
humankind may be innately aggressive, the promotion of aggression has been
clearly demonstrated to be the consequence of war-proneness of a violent
society, and not the cause of its militaristic orientation.
What this leads us to is a sense of human evolutionary
history in which the ongoing presence and propagation of basic cultural traits
came to be increasingly implicated in organic human development. The unusually
long period of infant-dependency for the purposes of cultural acquisition, and
the concomitant reduced rate of maturation, was a unique development of human
evolution which made the primary acquisition of culture not only possible, but
necessary. What we seem to be preprogrammed for is not culture itself, but the
acquisition of culture. Whether this acquisition takes place and how is a
function of the environment we are raised in. It is possible that in terms of
the ontogeny of the child acquisition of basic cultural skills--walking,
talking, drawing and writing, etc. We might claim a kind of 'cultural ontogeny
recapitulates biological phylogeny. This is highly speculative and
unsupportive, but strongly suggestive of the role of culture in human
evolutionary development.
It can be expected that other facets of human
socio-cultural organization have their origin in the kind of basic human trait
complex that marks humans as apart in the animal kingdom--language, tools,
bipedality, etc. Certainly human sexuality is a distinctive trait that can be
the focus of a great deal of cultural conditioning and social organization.
The place of the biological family as a basic reproductive unit--especially
the mother/child relationship, and the peripheral place of the father--must be
seen as having been focused upon this early imperative of cultural
acquisition.
In the early phases of human evolution, selection for
bigger and better brains, social organization and cultural acquisition was
probably a constant process in human cultural development. Dumb humans
probably just did not survive to reproduce themselves. But at some
point--probably not too long ago--humankind effectively freed itself from the
biological imperative of survival of the fittest by virtue of its acquired
culture and innate cultural capacities. From this point, cultural development
began its own historical development untied to natural selective forces. At
some unknown point of our remote past, human history began to take over the
process of cultural development. Today we maintain as part of the reproducible
and reproducing population in our society many individuals who by even the
most relaxed of selective regimes would probably have faced extermination. As
biological beings, we are still surviving under some kind of modified regime
of natural selection--we will likely go on evolving in one direction or
another, or else face extinction. But the kind of selective regime that led
over a few million years to the creation of humankind complete with culture
essentially no longer exists. There may be other selective forces at work
today--but these are almost guaranteed not to be the forces of survival of the
fittest or the most beautiful--except among the most deterministic of peoples.
Again, to reiterate a basic theme, to posit a strong causal
relationship of biological determinism precludes the complexity of culture and
the evidence of human history--is at best a basic fallacy of reductionism, and
amounts to a dangerous denial of human history that also implicitly
constitutes a denial of humanity.
*****
The arc of human variation includes the possibilities of
being both very good and very bad.
The question of the role of instinct, and more broadly, of
nature, in the constitution of human personality and culture has long been of
interest. Beyond the most basic rooting and nursing reflexes of the neonate,
and perhaps basic expressions of crying and laughter, it can well be argued
that human beings have lost all traces of instinct from their character. But
it is also the case that if human beings do not suffer from the world-closure
that instinctual constraint demands upon behavior, they have left over a
hypertrophied instinctual apparatus which has come under the controlling
regime of not genetic inheritance, but of primary cultural acquisition. If
humans have not inherited from their progenitors the actual sets of instincts
themselves, they have inherited at least the basis of the instinctual
apparatus, and the consequent need for some form of constraint which instinct
provides within the fold of nature.
The interference of cultural constraint in the
developmental process of the young human, particularly the cognitive-ordering
processes entailed naming and word-association, have worked to release the
grip of instinct over human nature and to break up its fixed patternings into
a set of potentially infinite rearrangeable 'behavioremes'--minimally
distinctive constituents of human action which carry significance in the
world. Aside from the first neonatal instincts, instinctual patternings in
human beings are left dormant--they are never turned on during human
development, but instead their expression depends upon the process of
internalization of cultural schemata that are available in the environment.
This has enabled the behavioral acquisition of stimuli
which is not organically original to the extinct that acquired behavioral
traits and arrangements take on the force and potency of natural, innate
instinct, of basic needs, of basic appetites and aversions, of basic
identities, of habits, all of which become so ingrained in the organic
organization of the individual that they are virtually reflexive and automatic
in their physiological responses.
We are creatures of habit because it is only through habit
that we can order our world in a manner sophisticated enough to cope with its
complexities, and yet simple enough to be easily understandable. In our
learning, as in typing, driving a car, riding a bike, we become so habituated
in our fixed action patterns that we are not required to think them through
step by step, but respond reflexively after a brief lag. The young child
fumbles in all it attempts because these sophisticated habits have not yet
been acquired or mastered. We depend so much upon our habitual action patterns
in order to free our decision-making consciousness to provide a homological
and overall purposefulness to what we are doing.
Similarly, our need for ritual in everyday life, in
discourse, as well as in more formal aspects of our cultural worlds, is based
upon this dependency and possibility for habit formation that is quite
complex. And so much of our ritual is so taken for granted, that it remains in
our lives so unmarked and out of the awareness of our critical attention. We
tend to tune out the ritual patternings of our life as so much background
collage--we are able to focus our scrutiny upon those aspects of our
environment that are less predictable and involve change.
In other words, cultural constraint, through the process of
internalization of habit, and externalization of ritual, is mostly indirect
constraint that remains mostly 'sub-conscious'--below the level of our
conscious awareness. Such indirect constraints channel our lives along the
grain because they confer a sense of regularity, predictability and subjective
inevitability and efficacy to all that we think, say and do, and without which
our lives would be made to seem haphazard, chaotic, uncontrollable and
somewhat contrived.
It is possible that basic instinctual patterns are most
evident, and combined with cultural schemata most directly, at a level of
non-verbal activity, including passive phenomenological perception and pattern
recognition, basic affective responses, motivations and moods, body language,
and some forms of proto-linguistic vocalization. These levels are functioning
concurrently with more conscious and active processes of speech, cognition and
coordination and volitional activity, but always at a level that is normally
background, perhaps 'pre-conscious' if not quite 'unconscious'. We are
responding and initiating these signals simultaneously and synchronously with
our more directed actions, and communication is achieved at this level along
with messages at the linguistic and meta-linguistic levels. Such meaning is
unexceptionally context-dependent, except where learned cultural schemata has
become embedded upon this level. This level also interacts with 'higher'
levels of consciousness in definite ways--helping to contextualize, embed, and
constrain or condition such messages. Our verbal signals may be contradicted
or reinforced by these signals--our tongues may be saying yes, but our eyes,
our bodies, our voice quality, may be implying no in no uncertain terms.
Because these constraints are mostly indirect, they normally function
implicitly and tacit in our communication. Thus they are normally difficult to
read and ascertain.
Now it sometimes occurs that our conscious control is
temporarily suspended, and this unconscious level of experience and behavior
is left to fill in the gap of our awareness--at this point, we become out of
control, or rather controlled indirectly by basic forces which we can scarcely
recognize in ourselves. In such episodes, our actions become automatic and
reflexive--something remotely akin to instinct, but quite uncontrolled and out
of order, seems to take control of our bodies, responding in situations in
ways which we cannot consciously help.
It is possible that in some crowd situations, in which the
respondent's and participant's capacity for self-control, and for voice, is
ritually or anti-structurally overridden by a predominant social presence.
When anonymity, muteness and blindness are reinforced and individual identity
denied, then the appeal is made to these unconscious forces always lurking in
the background of our personalities. It is not surprising that crowd
responses, panic, rioting, mass mania, entrancing, etc., resemble the actions
of herd animals or of a battlefield than of responsible, willful human beings.
Because of the fundamental world-openness of our human
condition, because the force of our instincts have been blocked and sublimated
via the condition of our cultural world, human development and human character
remains perpetually unfinished, partial and incomplete. It provides us with
the promise of learning, correcting and improving, as well as with the
ever-present risk of error, mistake, and evil. In giving up the security of
instinctual control, we received both blame and blessing. We are always
susceptible to falling comfortably into the artificial and illusory security
of our acquired rituals and habits, and we are always walking a tight rope
between self-control and loss of control. Loss of control and making mistakes
always bring with it embarrassment, shame, guilt, and it is the internalized
force of these negative sanctions which give us the incentive to improve our
sense of control.
The embedding of habit and ritual to the point of seeming
as if it were natural and integral is its power to take over and behave at a
level which is instinctual. In this way, common sense and concrete logic can
take on the appearance of being built in and ingrained.
In these ways, social structure becomes internalized within
the personality as if were natural law, while the internal drives and
motivations of the individual becomes externalized into the social patternings
in the same naturalistic way. Consciousness can be seen to deal with those
elements of the environment and the self which are not completely
internalized, which remain problematic within the relationships between the
self and the world.
The possibility for the internalization of social ethos and
pathos also concomitantly creates the possibility for the development of
internal conscious control by the self. Cultural patterning was built
dialectically upon the basis of an internalized sense of self, and
internalized self became a possibility only when culture was constructed as an
externalization. In this way, the consciousness of self and the self of
consciousness intermediate between internalized environment and externalized
body.
*****
In human evolutionary terms, it was the soft tissue that
made the critical difference.
To speculate about
whether humankind had to free itself from certain basic instincts and natural
constraint upon its basic identity before it could open the door to let
culture in, is to suggest that we might have some privileged knowledge about
what proto-human "instincts" may have been like, as if we could
measure these by comparing them to primate instincts or Prosimian instinct.
Nature may have loosened its grip on early humankind, without the introduction
of culture--or alternatively, it may have been the introduction of culture
that pried humankind away from its natural chains.
What might these constraints and chains have been like? We
have the example of the prototypical wild wolf, complete with a generalized
range of instincts as a social predator in a harsh environment, from which
every breed of dog has been selective bred for its special traits like
herding, birding, hunting, etc. Might our human cultural precursor have been a
kind of generally adapted creature in which a unique set of evolutionary
circumstances prompted a self-organization for crude cultural traits--a sort
of selective breeding regime in which this precursor became bred for
rudimentary cultural acquisition?
At this point we must seek clues in our fossil record for a
sense of the progression of human evolutionary development. We have a sense of
a step-wise development occurring in several stages. The first led to the
gracile australopithecine, probably in a mosaic environment, that was
"general adapted" to survival in a range of diverse environments.
This early hominid gradually radiated out from its birthplace in Central
Africa to cover perhaps most of the African continent.
The end of this period witnessed the gradual transformation
of the species, and the emergence of a new hominid--Homo habilis, who was
ready to possess a very crude cultural complex. A few all-purpose tools,
perhaps a few words like this or that and help and hello, and maybe a
rudimentary sense of socio-cultural organization. This transitional type
stabilized in the form of Homo Erectus, a very adaptable, robust human who
carried its crude cultural context to the four corners of its world, adapting
it to the special surroundings wherever it went. A second long period of
stability last for almost two million years. The culture of Homo erectus was
geared for one exclusive purpose, survival in the wild, and procreation of the
species. Women who had a need to sire several children need to attract and
attain the services of available, but probably unstable males. The end of this
long era in turn saw the emergence of a new kind of hominid, and a new
evolutionary matrix.
By the end of this period, the evolved Erectus was primed
for another transition and a succession of forms. A new culture and a new type
emerged which was more adapted to circumscription and to the problem of
environmental specialization. A new culture of circumscription had to develop
strategies and schedules of resource exploitation in wide, but bounded
geographical areas. Furthermore, it had to face the increasing problem of
competition and relation with other neighboring groups. The ice-ages probably
helped to precipitate this new type, and it is understandable if the
succession of forms was not in part based upon competition within similar,
generalized environmental niches, and displacement by a better adapted culture
over a cruder "survival" orientation. We get another transitional
form--archaic Homo and Homo neandertalensus-- and the emergence of the new
prehistoric, traditional cultural complexes of Homo saipiens saipiens.
The transition itself may well have taken over previous
100,000 years, which is short enough by evolutionary standards to be called a
fairly abrupt speciation episode. At the end of it we have the relatively
rapid emergence, especially over the last 30 thousand years, of human culture
as we know it anthropologically today.
What began as an unusual evolutionary matrix within an
environmental mosaic somewhere in central Africa, ended as a full blown
adaptive radiation of a generalized cultural orientation that eventually
spread to every significant, habitable piece of land on earth. That the
original proto-hominid form was generally adapted to an environmental
mosaic--an adaptation which fostered bipedalism and the use of the hands for
more than walking or climbing--seems to be a likely and well accepted
scenario. This species, Lucy in the flesh, though of much shorter stature,
remained for all intents and purposes a basic human being. It was more than a
chimpanzee--it moved about and made itself a home where ever it could find the
right environmental elements to procreate and survive, and it used its cunning
little brain in a way which allowed it to outwit the laws of nature.
*****
The rainbow of human possibility had its origins in the
lion's roar and the wild cock's crow.
My just so story would not be complete if I did not include
the dynamic transformational effects that cultural acquisition and
transmission played as a slow but inexorable new selective force guiding human
evolutionary development. The survival value and competitive advantage of
basic inventions and innovations would be immediately realized and would
eventually spread. The spread of such cultural traits from one human group to
another had a stimulus effect in the transformation of humankind's
relationship with the world. This transmission was not genetic, but cultural.
Its basic traits can be put into a simple list or inventory. There is no doubt
that such cultural traits had and continue to have a transformational effect
upon the human being. Because phenotypical traits are not passed from
generation to generation, we must refer to a form of cultural selection
created by cultural acquisition and transmission of new traits--the causal
arrow clearly points in the direction of bigger brains, but exactly how this
happened remains a mystery. It must have favored those individuals with better
acquisition and transmission capabilities--and a developmental delay in an
increasingly sophisticated cultural environment. It would tend to select out
accident-prone children, or the children of caretakers who did not take care,
otherwise children would not survive to a reproductive age. It favored the
creation of a kind of home environment and stable social relations that
permitted both the protection and development of the young infant. It must
have favored innovation and innovators. It also must have favored those with a
superior intellectual capacity to communicate with others, and to learn from
others. The acquisition processes between parent and child require the same
basic abilities as those between adults of different groups.
In these dynamics of cultural selection, we must see an
important linkage between the innate capacity to learn, map and respond in
sophisticated ways to a complex series of environments, and the gradual
creation and enlargement of a basic cultural environment that eventually came
to replace and contain the natural world. No doubt the survival of early
hominids required that these people be finely attuned and responsive to the
signals of their natural environment--the ability to recognize calls and
sounds, to remember the lair of lions or to read the tracks of wild game, to
seek protection from rainfall. Selection probably favored those who could
remember, plan, and coordinate activities in these environments. Survival of a
rather short creature not well endowed with strength or tooth and claws
depended upon such abilities to rapidly recognize and respond to complex
signals in the natural world.
The most basic and fundamental aspect of early child
acquisition is the passive pattern recognition and synaesthetic, emblematic
concatenation of signals into complex associations that allows the child to
recognize, imprint, process and respond to a complex cultural environment.
This forms a basic substrate of consciousness upon which all subsequent
cognitive development is based. At this early age, even within the womb, the
brain is encoding the environmental signals it is receiving in complex ways.
By the time children are two years old the imprint of their cultural
background is firmly, organically established in their minds.
We can consider that Lucy and her kind were still working
out their basic human relationship with their natural world. They were
learning how to survive in a world in which the selection regime was complex
and problematic.
In this order of things, we can speak of the early
self-organization of the anthropological "complex" upon which
subsequent cultural development became founded. The human relationship with
its environment has always been one characterized by exploitation--by human's
acquiring survival skills and learning how to take advantage of a hostile
world. I do not wish to suggest a Horatio Alger origin myth of a capitalistic
pleasure-seeker pulling themselves up by their hamstrings. But the
transformational effects of culture must be seen to lie in the exploitative
character of the human being to its environment.
We may want to see primitive man as caught in some kind of
ecological symbiosis with a world, taking only what it needs, and leaving the
rest for the next generation. But it seems that early man may not have been
aware of basic world ecology, and took whatever he could whenever he could
find it regardless of the consequences for the adaptation of other species.
Humankind had probably hunted many species to extinction before the gun came
along. Numerous local examples are available in the archaeological record of
local overexploitation of environments and irreversible degradation of the
ecosystem. In this regard Easter Island stands as a parable, not only for our
modern world, except for humankind more generally. And we must recognize the
great success of the Modern Capitalist system as based upon its ability to
take advantage of this basic human trait of taking advantage. It has
effectively tapped into the very deeply rooted sense of self-interest,
achievement and survival success that carried the first humans from its
natural bondage.
If this kind of relationship holds, then it may be
worthwhile to speculate about what our modern capitalist world system may have
to teach us about ourselves and our beginnings. The media has become the
primary tool of the capitalist system in tapping into the mind of the human
being, and in this manner it effects continuous series of a basic mythological
dialectic and reversal between nature and culture--endowing natural entities
with superhuman forces and humans with bestial qualities. There is something
mysterious and magical in this basic mythological transformation which catches
hold of the human imagination.
A child of one or two is distinctly human in its nature. It
has a natural curiosity and need to explore its environment. It also has an
inherent proneness to accident. The child develops at a very early age
manipulative strategies by which to achieve those things within its small
scope. We can speak of a kind of superman mythoi about our origins in which
our rise to humanness was an overcoming of the bondage of nature by the
cunning of our reasons--sometimes our success entailed running away at the
slightest sign of danger.
We must recognize the thin boundary between fear and
awe-inspiring feeling, the flow of adrenaline and heightened, acute awareness.
I can imagine a young boy, a Mowgli, ever hungry, huddled in a nest upon a
tree limb, listening to the unseen roar of a distant lion in the nighttime,
and, in fear and awe, imagining a wild demon. Soon that boy is asleep, and
dreaming of running from a beast, half-human and half lion. In reflection upon
this dream, human sentience was born.
*****
Our nature is the price we've had to pay for our culture.
Our culture has become our nature.
Any form of biological determinism requires an unnecessary
and reductionistic dichotomization between "nature" and
"culture" and the fallacy of failing to recognize how entangled our
culture has become with our natures. This is so much so that we might be
inclined to reverse the causal errors and speak of a kind of cultural
determinism of our nature--if this were not equally, if oppositely fallacious.
The boundary between our nature and our culture is clearly blurred and
indefinitely defined. There was a human world before culture, and the
evolution of culture has meant different things for different kinds of human
beings. The basic, crude culture of Homo Erectus must have been fundamentally
different in certain respects from the more sophisticated culture of Homo
neandertalensus.
We must ask the question of what might have been our
precursor to culture--a "proto-cultural complex" or
"pre-cultural context" which was also prototypically, uniquely
anthropological. And in this regard, we are, in spite of our sophistication
and our evolutionary development, not so different from our first forebearers
who walked in the world. To live at one with the natural world is the price
we've paid for our cultural acquisition and adaptation. It was the cost of
admission into humanness. The source of our humanness is to be found buried
deep in our heart of darkness.
VI.
Anthropology as Mind
From an anthropological perspective, the mind is a priori
human--the most objective knowledge we can have is of the relative
anthropological subjectivity of our world.
We do not really have an anthropology of "Mind"
as the seminal anthropologist Gregory Bateson wrote about. We do not have an
anthropological theory about theory, about information, about design, order,
"structure" and system. We do have notions about cybernetic systems,
about chaos and anti-chaotic systems, about information and constraint, about
stochastic systems and complexity, about the design features of languages,
etc., but we do not really comprehend the "structure of structure."
Why should this be a concern of anthropology?
The Greeks saw the cosmos as ordered by a rational
principle, or Logos They believed that logos governed not only the relations
of the universe, but between humans and their relationship with the world as
well. Modern science has been founded upon this same principle of an
underlying rational order of the natural universe. It has guided their search
for mathematical like laws which govern the phenomenal and material patterning
of the universe. And to a large extent, they have been successful.
The anthropology of knowledge can look at the question
another way. Because our science and our sense of scientific Logos of the
universe, as a rational, mathematical and law-like order, is the human order
we have brought to this knowledge and superimposed upon our vision of the
world that makes it an anthropologically important question. It has been human
beings making rational sense of the order that is implicit and intrinsic in
the universe--it is an inherently human capacity to abstract, reason and make
sense of the world.
The anthropology of the structure of "structure"
and rational order is necessarily founded in the idea of the human reflexivity
of such order. The order we have come to impose upon our universe is in some
important way of the structure of our own minds, and it is this symmetry of
order between abstracting mind and abstracted world that makes such
"logos" possible in the first place. This is an anthropological
theory about the anthropology of "theory."
From this standpoint we need to consider science as
"natural Systems theory", aspects of "information" theory
as constraint and coherence, transmission and communication, and as
interference and inference/reference; "design" theory as the basis
of interpretation, description, explanation and "understanding;"
"relational" theory as somehow important in how human beings
comprehend their world; and the role of artificial intelligence and its
bearing on the anthropological question of "alternative
intelligence." Finally, we must address the problems of chaos,
anti-chaos, change, complexity and stochastic systems that
"explore", learn about and adapt to their unknown environments.
*****
The anthropological paradox has not been the problem of
programming a computer to think like the mind, but of programming the mind to
think like a computer.
The Greek conception
of logos had been founded upon the conception of a "pure" idea, or
relation, of the kind we find in mathematical laws. These are held to be a
priori and analytically true, and in a sense are the noumenal essences upon
which phenomenal reality is based. In young children, learning to count and to
manipulate mass is a rather straightforward, almost mechanical cognitive
operation. The computer also performs rather complex, but similarly mechanical
operations, with surprising speed and efficiency. We hold this kind of
cognitive process to be the highest order of intelligence possible to human
beings--and we have been constructing our computers with these ideas of speed,
efficiency and memory capacity in mind. What I am referring to are the simple
binary operations of identity and negation, and the later process of
conservation, from which we can derive a Turing machine and all forms of
mathematically based machines. We seek to base our understanding of the
structure of language, and by positivistic extension, of all of reality, upon
a similar mathematical theory of knowledge. It would be difficult to imagine a
corner of the universe in which the basic principles of mathematics did not
hold.
These principles have their basis in the notion of a
"perfect" identity and a "pure" relation--they are from a
"purely" rational and logical standpoint "a priori
absolute", "universal" and "necessary." But there is
something peculiarly human about this mathematical business--I would contend
that in a larger context the natural universe rarely if ever obeys such
perfection without some perturbation of the random error. The kind of physics
envy that characterizes the somewhat squamous mind of the positivistic
scientist is an expression of a desire for a perfect world--a
"paradise" without the muddling effects of change. This is not to
denigrate the power and elegant beauty of mathematical sciences, without these
we could not have built our human world, but it is to attempt to put these
back within their proper human context--as ideological human constructions.
I contend that mathematics, the sciences, and the construal
of a rationally ordered universe reveals something fundamentally important and
intrinsic about abstract human thought, and imagination as well. In other
words the brain may not really function in terms of binary processing in the
manner that a computer does, but it performs a certain feat, a trick, if you
will, of converting the mind into such a binary processing phenomena. It is
useless from this standpoint to try to teach a computer to process language in
a natural way, because natural language processing may not necessarily depend
upon the mathematical structure we try to attribute to it. We can perhaps
design a computer to perform certain "mental operations,", which we
call higher order thinking, in a way that reflects the occasional facet of the
human mind, or else redesign a computer to function in a different way, or
else to write complex programs which "trick" the computer and
superficially mimic natural human process.
We must distinguish between natural, organic brain function
and natural mental processes which are defined functionally, intrinsically and
implicitly, and formal theories and formally defined programs that function on
the basis of formal constraints. The first has been a living process of long,
deep evolution; the second has been a hypothetical product of the human
imagination.
The mental trick that the brain performs to think logically
and construe the world mathematically is itself embedded in a culturally
constructed conceptual universe. The universe of zero's and real numbers and
case logic, which has introduced certain constraints into the normal, natural
processes of thought that permit the higher order abstractions of mathematics.
These basic constructs are acquired relatively late in child development, and,
though encoded neurally in the brain in some unknown way, are built upon a
foundation of previously acquired cognitive skills--one of which among others
is the skill of natural language. The feat of thinking logically is not
natural or automatic process of the human brain. It comes as the result of a
long and complex process of acquisition and organic brain development, and
they are complex skills that the brain can perform, quite mechanical from one
point of view, based on language, but independently of linguistic expression.
This is the trick--the trick of "pure thought" disconnected from its
organic, functional context.
There is a basic kind of anthropological fallacy associated
with this cognitive feat of the human mind. It is a special form of
reification because it construes as if natural, processes and skills which are
culturally constructed. It is perhaps complementary to the notion of
"misplaced concretization" that transforms an idea or an abstraction
into a "thing"--we might call it "displaced abstraction"
or "symbolic idealization," and consists of transforming
"things" into "ideas" or "fictions" or
"essences."
*****
Discourse and dichotomy have gone hand in hand in the
dialectical development of Mind.
We are faced with a fundamental relativity of rationality.
We cannot clearly separate or mark the boundary between what is
"truly" rational from a logical standpoint and what is merely
"rationalized" from a linguistic standpoint, because language
underlies logic. We must see that from a rationalistic standpoint, the
Christian conception of a biblical order of the world is as rational and
reasonable as a classical Greek conception of a natural logos underlying the
cosmos, unless we stipulate certain logical constraints and empirical proofs
upon which our modern science is founded, that is itself rationally tied to a
relative, rationalistic frame of reference. In other words, the abstract order
of the Christian universe is from an insider's point of view as rationally
coherent as the rational Logos of the Classical cosmos of the Greeks--in as
much as both are founded upon order-imposing language systems.
An anthropological theory of theory be capable of revising
our conventional and classical notion of the relation between rational order
and knowledge in the world, and to see that rational order, as a form of
rationality, does not underlie the natural universe as much as it is the
residuum of reflective human consciousness rooted in language about that
natural order. Logos is based on language, and language upon logos. This
entails that our search for a rational structure of language is itself a
search for the kind of rational order made possible by language.
We must see human reason and cognition as being a
derivation of a natural language for which the human organism became
evolutionarily specialized, as a generalized structure of the brain. In other
words, the entire organic complex which we identify as uniquely human, is
centered upon natural language, and more specifically, upon the relationship
between natural language and manual manipulation involved in tool making.
Tool making accomplished two things--the liberation of the
human from the constraints of natural selection, and the externalization of
the internalized sense of human reality into the world. The close relationship
between language, and the speech-production capacities of the
pharyngeal-lingual complex, and manual dexterity is clearly demonstrated in
the case of sign language, writing and typing. Bipedalism was the evolutionary
platform for this development, for it freed both the hands and the mouth to
develop in other directions than walking, climbing, feeding and biting. The
subsequent development of the brain was focused upon the elaboration of this
basic complex.
From this standpoint, we must see that rationality and
rationalization are rooted in the discursive production of human speech as a
social phenomenon that allowed for the externalization of human knowledge in
the world. More to the point, such discursive aspects of speech-production
allowed people to mark the difference, to create a sense of difference between
the internalized conception of reality and the externalized construction.
Pointing out the difference became the basis of the acquisition of subsequent
skills such as counting piles of stones, beads on a string, an abacus, tallies
with a stylus in a clay tablet, or pencil marks on a piece of paper.
The effect of this was the possibility for dichotomization
between the internal and external order, dichotomization which can be found to
underlie our classical conceptions of logic as it underlies our mythological
process. Dichotomization has become more apparent in our world--we marked the
scientific distinction between the sacred and secular in a way that our
"pre-logical" ancestors apparently failed to do. It was not that
they lacked the "reason" for doing so, but they lacked the cultural
constructed context as a "reason" for doing so. It allowed for the
dialectical development of human reason and rationality. In this regard, we
must understand that the possibility for marking the difference, for
dichotomization of reality, allowed for both the possibility of discrepancy,
and the fallacy, error and deceit inherent in discrepancy, as well as for the
kind of "coherence" we like to call "truth".
The focus of our anthropological construction of reality,
has been the evolutionary development of our natural language, which lies at
the center of both our cognition and our cultural order. The basic
anthropological complex is centered upon human speech production and language
processing, and is itself intrinsically tied up with the manual dexterity
involved in tool making and tool using. If we wish to characterize the
predominate order of determination in our "worldview" problem, then
we must consider a perspective that sees language, and more centrally, speech
as social discourse, as being at the base of the dialectical dynamics of
organic human development, of cultural development and of the development of
the rational mind.
The dialectical dynamics of discourse consists of the
testing of generalized frames of reference that have been internalized with
those which exist in the external social world. This possibility is itself an
extension of an internal dialectic which occurs between a more primitive
perceptual processing and pattern recognition system which is largely passive,
non-reflexive and a-temporally ordered, and a derivative, secondary system of
conceptual organization and active emblematic processing is reflexive and
temporally constrained. The two dialectical systems create the possibilities
of discrepancy and coherence, of difference and identity, in an internalized
and externalized sense that dynamically reinforce one another in the
anthropological construction of reality. In both cases, language is the
principle mediator of the same process.
We are thus left with a sense of an important difference of
identity between information in the natural order that is functionally
implicit and yet that fails to know itself as such, and the form of
information that is somehow aware or self-reflexive in its encoding of the
relationship of difference and identity. We may in this regard distinguish
between the criticality of anti-chaotic patterns and the complexity of
adaptive systems. Knowledge must be aware of change--information merely
encodes the process of change.
*****
In natural information, physical processes and properties
underlie chemical processes and properties that underlie biological processes
and properties that underlie anthropological properties--each antecedent is
necessary, but none are sufficient, in being able to account for the Human
consequent.
Science is an attempt to explicate the natural logos of the
universe. Science is essentially "natural systems theory" concerned
with creating valid and realistic information about natural processes of
change and stasis, structure, order, pattern, and development. As natural
systems theory, science operates upon different informational levels. The
relations and factors that function upon one level of integration are
different from those functioning at other, higher levels. Three such
informational levels have been recognized--the physical, the biological and
the human. Events and processes occurring at one level cannot be reduced to or
explained in terms of processes and events at the other level, and the kind
and structure of theory and conceptioning predominant on one level is
different than on another level. The physics and chemistry at the physical
level does not completely explain the evolutionary processes of the biological
level or the socio-cultural or linguistic phenomena of the human level. The
kind and quality of science practiced upon each level is different from the
others, and the criteria used for validation vary substantially between the
levels.
On the other hand, laws which apply at a more fundamental
level, apply as well on the super-ordinate levels, though the laws and
principles obtaining upon a super-ordinate level do not obtain on more
fundamental levels.
We can speak of a covering law model, or rather of general
information theory that applies upon all levels. The laws of thermodynamics,
which guarantee the entropy of the universe, apply upon all levels. Similarly,
principles of chaotic systems also apply equally upon all levels, as do
relational principles and the general relativity of information.
The sense of time and scale of patterning are different
upon each of the three levels--geophysical history, evolutionary history and
human history each involves different levels of predictability and
controllability. We must see that the factors and forces that go into the
making of a tornado upon the mid-western plains are fundamentally different in
their sense and quality of time and order than those factors and forces
governing the occurrence of a riot in Los Angeles, or of a devastating plant
virus in the southeast. But in all three sets of circumstances the random role
of chaotic patterning must be acknowledged. Upon a human level we speak of
volitional systems of interaction, while upon a biological level we can refer
to organic or animated systems. Upon the physical level we can speak of
mechanical or automatic systems of action and reaction
Similarly, the quality and kind of information that is
ordered, transmitted and modified is fundamentally different upon the three
levels. The information contained upon the physical level has to do with the
frequencies and relatively discrete values contained in subatomic particles,
quanta, etc., as well as in larger units such as in chemical molecular
compounds or solutions. Information upon the biological level is almost
exclusively contained in the DNA structure of the genome. There must be forms
of transmission upon a higher social or behavioral level among different
species of animal--by and large these forms consist of chemical or mechanical
signals. Information contained upon the human level is uniquely linguistic and
paralinguistic in structure and function--one which combines emblematic,
symbolic, syntactic, semantic, pragmatic and behavioral dimensions.
It is interesting to speculate whether the ordering and
patterning of basic information upon each of the three different orders may
share in some basic, universal structure--something which Gregory Bateson
refers to as stochastic systems and the unity of mind and body. In this we
might speculate on the role and functioning of dual parallel processing
systems, upon a kind of bilateral symmetry between two complementarily
arranged sets of signals. A cybernetic dialectic, one that is
order-maintaining and meaning creating, becomes established between two sets
of signal arrays to produce a complex moire patterning of information.
Such a system is most readily apparent in the genetic
structure of DNA. Similar systems may be found in the bilaterial functioning
of the brain, in the two-tiered structure of the Mind, as well as in the
split-level structure of psycho-social process. We might further speculate
about the hypothetical possibility of finding a similar kind of informational
structure upon the subatomic level of the quantum-we have long sought to
understand the causes and principles of gravity, and its relationship to the
electromagnetic spectrum.
This line of reasoning forces a reconsideration of the role
and importance of "information" in the universe. Information is
created by redundancy. Such bilaterality of dual-processing systems
effectively draw a "slash mark" across a field such that information
upon one side of the mark enables a measure of prediction about information
upon the other side.
We must ask if and what broader significance
"information" may have for the universe. Is it a "force"
that accomplishes something? Buckminster Fuller talks about anti-entropy as a
kind of "more for less" creativity which comes about when we
successfully combine knowledge with energy. Information can be seen to order
and constrain, or to modulate, the flow and directionality of energy in ways
which lead to the maintenance of higher orders of complexity--or what
effectively amounts to more efficient systems of energy transmission and/or
conservation.
We must also ask what the relationship may be between
energy, information and change in the natural order. Energy can be defined as
the potential for change, and the cause of change. Change can be seen as the
expression of energy. In this regard, Information can be construed as the
process of the mediation of energy to effect or control change. Information
"predicts" change because it predicates the patterning which energy
shall take in its expression. It is information which pushes the release of
energy away from the totally random and entropic, toward systems which tend
toward greater determination and productivity.
Information is contained within and involves the
interference of the transmission of energy in nonrandom, anti-chaotic
patterns. Information, upon whichever level of its expression, is constrained
by certain, universal features of design--bilateral or split fields,
parallel-processing, dialectical and cybernetic in functioning, relative
structural symmetry.
Is this all there is to be said about natural informational
theory? Information occurs upon many different levels in reality. On whichever
level on which it occurs, it is constrained by certain basic features of
structural, or informational design. Informational systems are
self-organizing, and as such they have a natural life-cycle of sub-critical,
critical and super-critical development, in each stage of which certain
structural patterns and principles predominate and are predictable. The scale
of history in each system, upon each level of information, is different, as is
its inherent complexity. Time and space, which may be thought of as a
universal standard by which all change is measured, may have different
qualitative and quantitative values upon different levels of information.
*****
Natural information, including human knowledge,
"functions"--it does something important, or else it is a product of
an important function. We can refer to this natural informational function as
communication--the transmission of the boundary between order and change
through time and across space.
The general concept of communication has been important in
the understanding of human cultures, social systems and of human reality.
Without extremely sophisticated and virtually instantaneous systems of
communication which span the entire globe in a vast and intricate and
invisible network, the development of the World System as it is today would
not have been possible.
Communication, the transmission of significant information,
remains a rational, abstract idea that glosses a very complicated behavioral
and linguistic process, by which the understandings, motivations, interests,
expressions, intentions, feelings of one person are made available to another
who may be at a considerable distance from the source of the 'information'.
Information is the principle metaphor of our modern era. The greatest, most
recent and most revolutionary advances of modern science and technology have
been on the frontiers of information processing, production, retrieval,
manipulation, recording and storage. The impact and implications of these
recent advances have not yet been fully realized in the world, but they are
transforming modern world society in ways that we can barely conceive or
control. Not only has a new class of criminal been created, but a new breed of
professional specialist is now at the helm of control and change in the world.
Information has proven to be great power, to both corrupt and create.
Gregory Bateson, a seminal anthropologist and an early
pioneer of the cybernetics of culture, wrote in his essay "Style, Grace
and Information in Primitive Art" in Steps to an Ecology of Mind that
meaning was the synonym of 'pattern, redundancy, information, and
"restraint" within a general paradigm....
Any aggregate of events or objects (e.g., a sequence of
phonemes, a painting, or a frog, or a culture) shall be said to contain
"redundancy" or "pattern" if the aggregate can be divided
in any way by a "slash mark," such that an observer perceiving only
what is on one side of the slash mark can guess with better than random
success, what is on the other side of the slash mark. We may say that what is
one side of the slash contains information or has meaning about
what is on the other side. Or, in engineer's language, the aggregate contains
"redundancy." Or, again, from the point of view of a cybernetic
observer, the information available on one side of the slash will restrain
(i.e., reduce the probability of) wrong guessing...
It is something of a paradox that effective communication
demands both a measure of openness and a degree of constraint. Information is
inherently chaotic. It emerges upon the edge of the random by the ordering of
elements in a kind of fixed pattern. It is remarkable that increasing degrees
of constraint along a specific dimension creates boundless potential for the
information carrying capacity of a communication system--the advantages of an
alphabet based upon a phonetic transcription of basic sounds over a clumsy
syllabary or a much more context-bound ideographic or pictographic system of
writing is an archetypical example of how increasing orders of constraint
along one dimension of a communication system can lead to increased efficiency
and almost boundless productivity along other dimensions.
Such communicative constraint abstracts the principle of
information from out of the concrete context in which such information is
embedded in the world. In this sense, the elaboration of scientific theory,
and the development of its non-ideological sense-making of the world, has been
just such a process of increasing communicative constraint that effectively
and efficaciously abstracts the underlying 'structure' from out of the
physical universe--achieving a degree of 'Logos' about the ordering principles
of the world, and of ourselves as part of that world.
Communication systems are rule-governed, and are therefore
reducible in terms that are explicitly propositional. Communicative constraint
is not achieved without some cost, and no system is a perfectly non-entropic
one. The process of communicative abstraction of signals entails the incursion
of the principle of arbitrariness in the structural separation of the
signifier and the signified, to the point that the only connection between the
term and the thing may be only a purely logical or hypostatic one. While
abstraction increases the internal coherence of a communication system, it
creates a closure or boundary between elements external to the system. Such
systems are very brittle and such brittleness is the likely source of
continuous or expectable error that cannot be controlled within the system. A
sign system may be so abstractly separated from its original context of
reference that it bears no real or recognizable relationship with the
empirical world.
Communication depends for its effectiveness upon the
systematic reduction of contradiction such that a signal cannot stand for the
thing signified as well as its opposite, or negative meaning. The systematic
reduction of internal contradiction along its dimensions of constraint
represents the attempt to reduce the possibility of noise, or of random
disorder, within the system. Such noise results in the destructive
interference with the system. The significant elements of such a system can
stand for a limited range of things, but not for anything or everything, or
for nothing. Such elimination of contradiction or noise reduction is seen to
enhance the information carrying capacity, or channel capacity of the system
along other dimensions, such that each unit is capable of carrying more and
greater significance of a specific kind.
Decreasing destructive interference increases the
possibility of constructive interference, which is the intervention of the
principle of the possibility of arbitrariness of the relationship between the
signifier and the signified, such that the system may become conventionally
constrained and deliberately controlled. It is at such a point that we have a
genuinely "cybernetic system." With the independence of the
signifier from the signified, and with the relative neutralization of the sign
as icon, the possibility for intentional manipulation of the relationship is
introduced, with the resulting modification and modulation of the information
that the system contains. Such a system becomes potentially open and
infinitely productive.
But there is no such thing as a perfect communication
system that is completely without noise or contradiction--to such an extent
all systems remain minimally closed. Context must interfere with the signal,
and though it is never desired, contradiction is bound to happen--such
contradiction occurs if only implicitly, subconscious or out of the directly
awareness of the communicators.
*****
There is a critical difference between the semiotic
organization of information in the natural world, and the symbolic
organization of information in the human world--human information is always
"about" something else, natural information is only
"about" itself.
If we define a relational system as one in which the value
of anything within the system is a measure of its relationship to other
elements within the system, in which a thing is determined by other things
within the system, then we are faced with the dilemma that we can have no
external hook by which to anchor the value of something in some fixed way.
The doctrine of relativism maintains that all human
knowledge in this sense constitutes a "relational system". Meaning
then is the measure of the relatedness of one thing in a system to other
things--it is in a basic sense "referential". This forces a paradox
that we cannot therefore have no externally "objective" or
"non-arbitrary" foundations for our knowledge which rests beyond the
scope of the relational system, the values of which are set in some absolute
and non-arbitrary way. There are in essence no "atoms" of knowledge
which are immutable, indestructable, eternally unchanging.
A relational system entails also that all elements within
its purview are subject to change, change which is the consequence of other
changing relations within the field. It implies that the meaning of anything
is always, in the broader, relational sense, continuous and non-discrete, and
therefore qualitatively underdetermined. Meaning in a narrow sense is discrete
and discontinuous, only within the boundaries set for its conditionality.
Human symbolization is ordered upon a very basic level. The
principles for the organization of human symbols can be said to be relational
in patterning. Relational logic is one in which any one thing is not defined
in terms of itself, rather its identity is a function of the many other things
to which it is related. Everything in a relational system is defined in terms
of everything else, so there are no boundaries marking categorical differences
between things or sets of things. A relational system is indeed a complex one.
There are no fixed boundaries to things or measures of things. The index of
thingness is the degree of affinity or likeness or of lack of affinity or
unlikeness. What matters in such a system are not things per se, but the
relations between things. In other words, thingness in a relational system is
defined in terms of the whole system--identity is transferred, via relational
configurations, upon the status of the system as a whole defined by the number
of interrelations that it encompasses. Thus identity, or the principle of
non-contradiction, is not the primary element of its logic--rather it is the
principle of relationship, or affinity--a thing is not either or, but more or
less. Values in a field are not fixed--they are variable and relative within a
field of interdependencies. The status of one thing within the field depends
upon the conditional status of many other things, such that minor changes in
one part of the field may result in a chain reaction of altered values in
other areas.
We can speculate that one of the main distinctions between
a relational system and a classical or rational system is that the former is a
notational system based upon a continuous field of elements that can be
thought of as being symbolic and qualitatively determined, while the latter
can be thought of a mathematical system dealing with discrete entities
quantitatively defined.
Both types of system may be employed to describe the same
sets of things, but some kinds of phenomena in reality may be better described
in terms of one system than the other. The virtues of the one system may
represent the limitations of the other system. Mathematical systems may have a
rational precision and facticity which relational systems may be lacking,
while on the other hand relational systems may be able to better represent the
complexity and transformations inherent in natural systems.
Our orientation towards Science with its emphasis upon a
mathematical system has by and large precluded our understanding of the
alternative kind of system, its potential and strengths, and its alternative
criteria of validity.
It may also be the case that the predominance of a
mathematical system is tied to the rise of literacy and the subordination of
more basic forms of orality. It is a tendency in which the wide publication of
a print medium has tended toward the precipitation of words as things which
stand for themselves, as discrete entities, rather than as relational in
structure. Such a literate modality fosters the illusion of a single noumenal
"Truth" or "Logos" which is thought to underlie or
predetermine all phenomena. In an oral modality, which is more basic,
schematic chunks cannot precipitate or ossify into permanent form in the same
way. Broadcast transmission guarantees that a word, once uttered, will be ever
fleeting--We can't get the word back except by an echo, a parrots repeat, or
recorded replay.
It is possible that human pattern recognition is basically
relational in design, and that a relational system is normally employed in
order to configure or recognize patterning of phenomena. From this standpoint,
a relational system is a rather "passive background" one against
which a constricted logical system is actively fore-grounded or configured. As
a derivative system, a mathematical system cannot exist separately or
independently of an at least implicit background relational field. Active
foregrounding requires the conscious application of one or more principles of
restriction to background relations in order to yield a finite, bounded
problem set. Foregrounding entails the act of explicit denotation, definition
that brings the background patterns into sharper focus.
Basic orality is constituted as a relational system that
underlies literacy. Literacy is a derivative system that is more
mathematically constrained. The logic attributed to such mathematical systems
are not fundamentally different than the kind of logic underlying relational
systems--rather it is more constrained by being subject to more specific
criteria of validity. Whereas a relational system is multi-dimensional, a
mathematical system becomes uni-dimensional--it is constrained by one or
another of the possible dimensionalities available in relational systems. In
other words, the so-called scientific rationality of modern Homo saipiens is
in structure not fundamentally different from the "primitive"
rationality of our archaic progenitors. Rather, it is subject to another order
of constraint that more basic relational systems are not normally subject to.
On the other hand, there is nothing that prevents a relational system, or a
person who normally operates upon such a basis, to "switch modes"
and operate upon a more constrained level of logical operation. People
regularly do when they are required to.
The constraints of a mathematical system are that such a
system must conform to basic principles of identity, precedence,
temporal-spatial irreversibility. The same thing cannot be two places at once,
and a thing that happens cannot also unhappen. The shift in emphasis is from
one of "object-relation" to one of "object-identity" and
depends upon the fixing of an object to a single unitary value.
The shift occurs as the result of attempting to reduce the
variability and indeterminancy of system--to fix it into a single set pattern
or "attractant" order. It is the difference between a system that is
loosely constrained and one that is tightly constrained.
What we actually encounter then are "mixed
systems" and "mixed strategies", and depending upon the
contexts, people regular switch systems or "styles" toward either
extreme. Verbal punning and metaphor takes advantage of the
multidimensionality of a relational system, whereas deliberate decision-making
requires a more rigid set of rules for deriving results.
There are no "things" per se in a relational
field--there are relational sets that are defined by the relations that they
contain. A thing is in a sense such a relational set.
The remarkable thing about relational sets is that though
bounded, they are open in that they may contain an unlimited number of
relations nested within other relations.
Relational logic functions something like glide or
transformational geometry across the relational field. Reflexive
symmetry/asymmetry, translation, isomorphic projection are the kinds of
patterns which can be sought in such a system. The kinds of connectives that
are employed in such a system are those of set theory. Greater than, less
than, equal to, equivalent, intersecting, conjunctive, disjunctive sets, a
subset or superset of--they are relative determiners of relation between sets
of things defined by the things which are incorporated within their relational
field. Things "intersect" by virtue of sharing a number of the same
relations. The transformations describe the undulating relational topography
through a temporal continuum.
Equivalence sets play an important role in relational
fields. Equivalence sets are those which share a similar net overall value and
yet which may be composed of different kinds of relational configurations.
Equivalence sets may be substituted for one another within a larger set of
relations without changing the overall value of the entire field. And yet the
substitution of equivalence sets can also simultaneously constitute the basis
for an indirect chain reaction of change in other sets that eventuate in
changing the total value of the system.
Analogical systems can be considered to be relational sets
which are based upon equivalence sets--the relations between equivalences sets
can be said to be proportionate to one another if the sets which they relate
are equivalent.
We can write equivalence sets in terms of a quaternary
structure that describes the possible kinds of transformations allowed within
such a system. For instance the statement "A is to B as C is to D"
may be rewritten as "B is to A" as "C is to D" or
alternatively as "A is to D as B is to C" and finally as "A is
to C as B is to D". If we substitute a specific relational sign for the
"is to" linkage--for instance is greater than, less than, equivalent
to, or intersects, then we must specify the transformation required in the
relational sign for each alternate string, such that if A were greater than B
as C were greater than D, then to rewrite the structure D is less than A as B
is less than C" is the appropriate equivalent, and not D is greater than
A. What seems mandatory in these transformations is that the original rational
relation be preserved regardless of the permutation.
Within a relational system, a thing may stand for a set of
relations, and may simultaneously be a part of the same or other sets of
relations. Relational systems have a basic duality of patterning. Furthermore,
things may be simultaneously part of more than one set of relations, sets that
may cross-cut one another and intersect at the juncture represented by that
thing. Things as components of entire sets can stand for the set itself in
relationship to other sets--sets can be interlinked by critical elements lying
at the intersection between sets.
Relational sets can be captured in terms of things that
they contain, and the "thingness" or alternatively the
"nominality" of the system can be emphasized. Alternative, the same
system can be described in terms that emphasize the "relationality"
or alternatively the "verbality" of the system. It takes little
insight to see that the former emphasis lies upon a "space-like" and
spatially defined orientation, while the latter emphasizes a more
"time-like" and temporal orientation.
It is from studying the structure of natural language, as
symbol systems, that we can derive some important insights into the nature of
relational systems. Systems can vary in how they emphasize the things and
relations between things. Systems can be "active-passive",
"topic-comment," or "ergative" in syntactic structure, and
the structure of all such structures have both a paradigmatic and syntagmatic
organization.
Such systems combine two aspectual components of into a
single relational set that defines a string--it describes the thing, and then
the relational of the thing, or what can be thought of as
"subject-predicate" atom. The subject announces or frames the
object, while the predicate consists of a set of statements pertaining to that
object. The predicate itself is subdivided into the functional relation and
the parameter--what amounts to the object-complement of the subject. The
predicate itself is in a sense the inverse function of the subject, as it
always entails an emphasis upon the verbality of the topic and the
subordination of the predicate object. Now the basic syntactic order of this
basic component varies considerable between languages. We have SOV, VOS, SVO,
OVS, OSV and VSO--and these six combinations describe possible paradigms for
the arrangement of this molecular association. Some languages may allow for
alternative arrangements along these dimensions.
There is decidedly something basic and fundamental in this
core molecular unit, something which reflects how humans think and process
information in a structured way. This constitutes a basic design pattern for
human communication upon which all other permutations are derived.
Principles of permutation or of transformation involve
processes of modification, subordination and super-ordination, displacement
and substitution, inversion, deletion, suppletion, conjunction and disjunction
and relativization, and complementation.
The inference structure of relational logic is not the
"if-then" structure of two-value logic. It is rather a correlational
structure of a multiple-value logic which states that relation A may vary
directly or inversely to relation B. The nature of the meta-relation which can
be said to be established between the two subsets, A and B, is not one which
can be thought of as causally overdetermined. Rather it describes a calculus
of interdependencies, of what might be referred to as conditional or
contextual covariation. Such systems can be thought of as being inherently
undetermined systems, and therefore suffer from a fundamental critical
indeterminancy that precludes the kind of syllogistic deductions available in
truth-value logic.
We may talk about multiple-relations, fractional relations
and power relations, as well as incremental and decremental values.
Whereas the result of a truth-value logical system is a
branching hierarchical decision tree, a iterative structure, the result of a
relational-value logical system is rather a recursive system of nesting sets
within other sets--a recursiveness which may have destructive or constructive
consequences for the values of the relations. We cannot map a relational field
in the same way as we map a decision tree--we get a circuit chart rather than
a flow chart, such that there are multiple possibilities branching from every
node in the system. We can trace the paths and loops through which information
will flow, and we can describe the action of the entire system, but we cannot
single out the final consequences which result from its operation like we can
from a decision tree which yields definite results depending upon which branch
we descend upon. Instead we get a system equilibrium and a system which does
something--generate frequencies of energy.
The recursion of the relational system lends itself to
rather elegant description in a way which long parenthetical syllogistic
chains lack. Classical logic describes a discontinuous set of
entities--relational logic describes a continuum of relation. The kinds of
formal fallacies that pertain to classical logic do not hold strictly to such
a relational system.
What such a system allows for is the possibility that
relational sets may have a duality, being both a set of values, and at the
same time a meta-value which is defined as the net value of all its relations,
a value which may be synergistic, and reified as something more than the sum
of its parts. The fallacy which occurs in such relational logic then stems
from the confusion of the whole for the sum of its parts--this occurs when we
attempt to translate a continuous field into a discontinuous or numerical
set--when we assign finite, discrete values to infinite, non-discrete
variables. The fallacy of relational logic derives from confusing equivalency
with equality or identity--the isomorphism of structures may be more apparent
than actual.
What relational logic may allow for is an alternative kind
of inductive syllogism upon which may be based a kind of
"hypothetico-inductivism." From the standpoint of scientific
falsification, such logic can be said to generate unfalsifiable conclusions.
Relational logic nevertheless may have certain basic principles of relation,
upon which derivative secondary principles apply and which render complex
transformational patterns.
*****
Information is contained in the clash of contrasts in the
world--while simply information encodes change, knowledge is critically aware
of the change information encodes. Human knowledge rests upon the knowledge of
the difference knowledge makes in the world.
We do not have an adequate
theory of interference. Interference must be regarded as a complex natural
phenomenon, a chaotic patterning, which results when two or more dissimilar
forms of organization or forces come to occupy the same place and time. We can
have constructive or destructive interference--the former being a kind of
deviation amplification, the latter the opposite kind canceling out of
opposites. The interesting facet of interference patterning in nature are the
resulting moire' patterns which can be quite complex, regular and intricate in
their organization, as well as quite transient. Also such patterning may be
the product of the interaction of relatively simple sets of factors which
individually have little or no net pattern. Interference patterning can be
expected to occur, but not predicted. We know that something will happen, but
we cannot be sure exactly what the patterning will be. Another interesting
facet of interference is its capacity to produce, and carry, information, or
meaning, the result of its redundancy, which is an order in scale beyond the
meaning or information capacity of the separate elements that produced the
pattern.
Interference patterns occur everywhere in our experience.
It may be the planting and maturation of a garden, or the painting of a
picture to be hung on wall. It may be the primary socialization and
development of a child, or the phenotypic expression of a pair of twins. It
may occur in a committee meeting, when the world goes to war, or when economic
depressions strikes unexpectedly.
We must ask how we can define interference patterns, our
account for their origin theoretically. We can use the example of light
passing through a diffraction grating--information is constrained, channeled,
split or spread out by some kind of formula which recurs with a given
regularity. In this sense we can say that information, naturally occurring in
some sort of predictable pattern, is distorted, obstructed, or altered with
some kind of regularity, resulting in modulation of the information field into
intervals which have a sinusoidal wave-pattern--with crests and troughs. From
this model, information itself must be considered as a kind of normal
perturbation within some kind of differential field of possibility or
potentiality, one which results in some kind of boundary that makes prediction
possible between the two bounded spaces. Information can be seen as a kind of
regular deviation that effectively, if temporarily separates an otherwise flat
or singular field into two or more separate sub-fields, in which the
differences between the two sub-fields are greater than the similarities
between them. Interference then, creates information from a differential field
of possibility. Interference patterns may be layered one on top of another,
each subsequent pattern critically altering the resulting interference pattern
of the previous set of interference. Interference is not an absolute thing,
but a question of more or less.
Interference can be seen to follow a normal kind of curve,
past a point of criticality, too much interference will result in greater
destructive patterns.
We can also speak of self-inducing interference patterns,
as well as self-destructive patterns. Self-inducing interference is the result
of recursion of information within the system that results in greater, or
additional interference--information produced by interference feeds back into
the field as additional information.
We can also refer to simple or complex interference
functions which may produce different long term histories of patterning, which
may lead to a cycling of possibilities at a predictable rate, or else to the
patterning settling into a relatively stable, if not frozen, channel which is
self-maintaining or self-stabilizing. In short, interference patterns follow
natural chaotic patterns.
Furthermore, the interference patterning can be thought to
carry information that is the result of both constructive and destructive
patterns that are integrated together and which cannot be separated from one
another without altering the pattern it self. Constructive patterns can be
said to be the result of positive interference, destructive patterns the
result of negative interference. Positive interference results in increased
information in the net system, the increase in structure or redundancy that
carries meaning. Negative interference results in decreased information--a
tendency towards randomization in which variability of pattern becomes greater
than the redundancy.
Interference patterning can be said to produce
"pseudo-events" which contain information not contained in the
constituent components, as well as information that is more comprehensive in
scope than that carried by its constituent elements. In this regard we can
understand such interference patterning as holistic and synergistic phenomena.
We can speak of exogenously and endogenous forms of
interference, and interference which is variably determined, or even
indirectly or infinitely determined, and in which the same influences may
affect different entities within a system differently, even contradictorily.
When we think of exogenous interference, we are referring to influences of
which we may be scarcely aware, and yet which may have a critical influence on
the resulting patterning. Similarly, we can speak of interference systems as
critically underdetermined systems, and also as either cumulatively determined
or decisively determined.
Also, we have a simple black and white system when we refer
to simply positive and negative kinds of interference. We might refer as well
to colorful systems with a range of multiple values determining the kinds of
interference, and thus the resulting effects.
Interference patterns are usually transient and ephemeral
episodes that last only as long as the particular combination of factors fit
the particular arrangement. Interference patterns are caught upon a short
trajectory that results in rapid decay and increasing randomization. We might
say that constructive and destructive patterns occur in a certain proportion,
proportion that alter and rapidly leads to the predominance of destructive
over constructive patterns. Constructive patterns rapidly erode into
destructive patterns. From the standpoint of systemic dialectics, negative
feedback becomes predominant over positive feedback.
We can refer to constructive patterns of interference by an
index of the relative "coherence" of a system--coherence being the
capacity of the system to contain significant information.
We seek coherence in the natural order by means of a
science, often without realizing the extent to which natural interference must
underlie and determine coherence in nature. To see the universe as God's
clockwork with a perfect principle of order is to fail to see the random
process and potential for disorder that underlies all naturally occurring
phenomena. We have, in our science, taken order too much for granted.
Constructive patterns can be defined as those instances of
interference which carry a net amount of information above the value of the
average, or the normal, while destructive patterns can be defined as those
instances of interference in which the net amount of information carried is
less than the normal average. We must then define a line of neutral value--a
flat or even trajectory in which the capacity of information of the
interference pattern is equal to the sum of the information carried by its
constituent components. We can call this the line of "criticality"
which defines the ratio and likelihood of expected to unexpected events.
We might say that the basic laws of thermodynamics, and the
principle of universal entropy, govern the history of interference patterns.
It determines that the birth, growth, maturity and demise of all constructive
interference patterns will follow a normal life cycle and a normal
developmental curve.
We must see the phenotypic profile of all organisms as
limited instances of complex interference patterns, not only between different
organisms, or the environment and the genetic organism, but at different
levels of interaction--between possible different genes in the genome.
With interference patterning, we can speak of a
magnification induction, in which information capacity is greatly, if
momentarily, enlarged beyond the natural scope of its elements. While
interference patterns are a result of perturbations, perturbations can also
result in the disappearance of an interference pattern.
We must consider that many complex phenomena we encounter
in nature are the result of interference patterns that lack any single causal
determinative explanation. We might consider them as complex patterns of
co-occurrence of elements or relations across a field of potentiality or
possibility. Also we must also seek to define the contrasting phenomena of
synchronicity which must also be regarded as a complex, chaotic natural
phenomena. Synchronicity can be described as the independent occurrence of two
or more similar events at the same time. Synchronicity must not be confused
with the idea of the synchronic, also implying simultaneity, but as well
systemic interdependence of elements. Synchronicity must be regarded as an
inherently diachronic or historically ordered event, from a time-like
perspective that attempts to explain change and the heterogeneity of the world
in terms of a general theory.
Synchronicity may well be a kind of diachronically ordered
interference pattern which is expressed temporally rather than in space and
which is to some degree independent of spatial constraints in its historical
trajectory. The same thing may happen in separate places because time itself
may converge, constructively or destructively, at the same moment in different
places.
The factors used to account for the occurrence of distant,
independent events at the same time must be indirectly and contextually
related--a common background of historical change and development which
produces a similar effect in many different places at the same time. While
synchronically ordered interference patterns are one event, in one place and
time, and can be seen as major critical events, synchronistic events must be
seen as system-wide, or systemic, and many little co-occurring minor events
induced by a similar or common range of factors. The former case might be
considered a case of local interference, the latter, general interference. We
may liken the difference to a pan-human, but endemic disease, which strikes
with a certain low frequency everywhere, versus a localized, epidemic disease
which rages with a ferocious lethality, but only in one area or region,
leaving others regions relatively untouched.
Now we must consider the possibility of mixed frequencies,
or cases that involve some ratio of both kinds of interference at the same
time. We must also therefore consider the possibility of interaction between
the two kinds of interference, and the possibility of a third, resulting kind
of interference that is in a sense a hybrid of the two. I might refer to this
as "hyperference" and might be seen where many minor, generalized
events set off major, local interference events, or else a single, local event
may catalyze a system reaction. Hyperference must be seen as the possibility
of either positively catapulting an entire, generalized information system on
to a new order of patternings--a kind of system evolution--or else possibly in
the sudden catastrophic implosion or blinking out of an entire system. We
might refer to such dramatic revolutionary episodes as
"hyper-events," and we might see such complex phenomena as
earthquakes or tornadoes as such hyper-events of nature. Hyper-events can be
seen as a kind of chain reaction set in motion by the combination of
interference patterns which cause a radical new structural organization to the
elements than previously.
We might speculate on whether there are not both
constructive and destructive forms of synchronistic interference--and in the
case of constructive interference, temporarily carrying more information than
can be accounted for by the constituents that compose the pattern.
The layering of information levels one on top of the other,
with the resulting interaction and influence between the levels, can be
described as the "moire' effect". We can refer to the structure of
such multi-tiered interference patterning as multiplex.
Many phenomena that we must seek to explain and deal with,
particularly social phenomena and phenomena involving the mind, evolutionary
development and expression, and even physical "cosmographical"
patterning like the weather, or the organization of distant super-clusters,
may in essence be the surface appearance of complex interference patterns set
up by many multiplex factors. Even phenomena as ordered as human language may
be a complex by-product of interference patterns occurring at several levels.
It is for this reason that mono-causal or deterministic explanation of such
complex patterns frequently fail to satisfy or predict the patterning or the
changes. If we seek to excoriate the layers of interference grating to find
the first or deep level of information, and the order or seriation in which
each layer has been added to the information system, we are liable to be
misled in believing that the deepest level is the source of all subsequent
levels, the ultimate, primal cause, rather than the proximate, efficient
cause, and we may fail to see that it is the unique and ordered combination of
different factors and levels of information which produced the epi-phenomenal
interference pattern--the "epi-ference pattern." We must recognize
that subsequent levels are interacting and producing new interference patterns
with the interference patterns of the previous levels, and not directly with
the factors which produced that initial pattern in the first place.
We can hypothesize that in such complex patterns, deeper,
more basic levels underlie, and to some extent, predetermine surface patterns.
But we cannot directly account for the primary functions of such deeper
factors only on the basis of inferring them from the epi-phenomenal patterns
of the surface that we are always observing.
We must see that interference and information in our
reality may be a common source for many paradoxes with which we must deal. If
a sense of order runs deep in the meaning of human reality, so also does a
sense of disorder. From the standpoint of viewing all life as interference
patterns which are expected to be quite ephemeral, life itself may well be a
grand illusion--a trick that nature plays upon itself--but a momentary,
temporary appearance of something more than itself.
We must expect that tampering with the earth's ecology, and
the social effects of global overpopulation, may well result in unexpected,
and quite dramatic, consequences.
Changing interference patterns alter the interval and
differential in a relational field, and alter the probabilities and
directionality of change within the field. When we consider the history of
patterned phenomena, whether it is the growth of crystals, or a plant, or a
mammal, or whether it is a school or a hospital or a nation, we must consider
that history as a natural one of the epi-phenomenal patterning of interference
phenomena.
In this regard, the robust history is always impacting upon
the present patterning to be found, and yet the net history is always changing
in its total net effect in the unfolding patterning of events. Each new
pattern changes not just the immediate context of relations, but the whole
structure of the history of the patterning, and hence the prospective impact
upon future events. The changes and alterations that modify the patterning are
taken up in the momentum of the change process. This kind of history is
neither linear nor static, but curvilinear and dynamic in its resulting
patterning.
It follows that we cannot simply adduce or reduce the
primary factors or initial causes of naturally occurring phenomena in the way
that we can the principles of mechanics. Nor can we merely look to more
complex multi-causal models as implied in much of our system's theory in order
to predict the patterning that we encounter. In our formulas and equations we
must also take into greater account the mixed determinations, the unknown
variables, and the synergistic results of overlapping interference patterns.
In a critical sense, the determinative factors involved are continuous,
open-ended and virtually infinite. The finite universe of elements which are
subject to the influences of the system are not the cause of the system,
merely the mechanical operatives driven by the system. The patterned
possibilities are also, in a critical sense, infinite and open-ended,
rendering attempts at precise prediction futile.
We can speak of expectancies, rather than predictions, of
finite primary relations, and secondary derivative ranges of action.
We can also speak of being enmeshed within an immense web
of interrelations, and within an ongoing continuum of process and change. If
we look for first causes or final consequences, we are not liable to find many
unless we specify explicit the contextual frame of reference within which we
are working. Such contextual definition is frequently left implicit, to be
presumed only, in many of our explanation for natural phenomena.
An implicit part of the relativist and holistic presumption
in cultural anthropology has been that the important factors underlying any
particular cultures patterning cannot be simply adduced from first principles
or superficial observation. Extensive involvement in the cultural life, from
the insider's point of view, is required before even a rudimentary
understanding of the many factors and processes occurring within a community
can be had. Learning how a group is integrated, or remains unintegrated, and
how it changes, or fails to change, and what it values or not, are all
important parts of this ethnographic description.
*****
Science is rooted in the critical disjunction between the
inherent devices of natural information and the deliberate designs of human
knowledge.
The study of human language and of systems of communication
distinguishes certain "design" features that serve as principles of
order in the elucidation of such systems. This approach, if extended to the
notion of the design principles which underlie information in the natural
order and human knowledge, may be helpful in coming to understand the
differences and similarities between natural information and human information
which is linguistically based. There is an inherent implicitness about natural
information which no where "explains itself"--on the other hand
there is a certain potential explicitness about human information, which, if
not actually explained either formally or informally, is possible of such
explication. Another way of putting this might be to assert that natural
information is intrinsically coherent, whereas human information is
extrinsicially coherent. Natural information may be contradicted by changes in
the external order of things without affecting its internal consistency--it
may remain internally consistent in an externally inconsistent universe. Human
information may be internally self-contradictory, but may not contradict be
externally contradictory. On the other hand, natural "structure" or
order is always globally contextualized, and in this sense is always
externally constrained. Human order is always locally centered, and is thus
always internally constrained. The functional designs of natural information
are rather like "devices" as opposed to the "designs" of
human knowledge.
In the consideration of design features of information and
knowledge, we must see that design is rooted in the properties and processes
that underlie the phenomenal patterning of the world. We identify the
properties and processes of coherent systems by their designs, we identify
designs by the properties and processes. There is a standpoint which sees
"design" as an inherent facet of human representation of
information, as a fundamental way that we frame our experience of the world
and superimpose a sense of order upon it.
The human brain, adapted for language, filters the
phenomenological flow of experience through an "emblematic pattern
recognition system"--what amounts to representational
"Gestalts" which cognitive psychologists refer to. Emblems impose
"design" upon the world, and it is in terms of emblematic designs
that we come to know, explain and describe our experience. Emblems have a dual
identity in that they also function as natural devices in the creation of
information--they challenge the external flow of experience with their own
history. We must see emblems as complex entities, primarily symbolic, which
can conjoin together into a coherent and meaningful pattern, a whole, a number
of different significant components which may be derived from many diverse
sources--they are in other words, synthetic in their putting together
differences to create identity.
The design of emblematic designs must be seen as prefigured
by temporal and spatial contrasts and arrangement, or what structuralists have
come to refer to as syntagmatic versus paradigmatic order. We may impose order
upon our emblematic ordering of experiential events by either controlling or
constraining one or the other or both the temporal and spatial aspects at the
same time or in sequence. Emblematic design therefore implies some kind of
either spatial or temporal constraint, or definition. If there is no such
constraint, there can be not prevailing sense of order and coherence.
I refer to these elements of human design as emblematic
because I consider them to be complex conceptual constructions synthesized by
the mind, and made possible by the normal mental organization of the human
brain, and because they combine linguistic data with other forms of
associations and values to create a composite, externally coherent
understanding. They are simultaneously embodied in consciousness as such
constructs, and in the world as symbolic material embodiments--they are both
symbols that refer to which point to external signs that stand for themselves.
They thus establish a relational bridge between the internal sense of order
and the externally constructed world.
In this regard, we might consider the achieved logos of our
natural sciences as constituting a sort of emblematic metalogue about both the
objective realities of the world and of their own emblematic status in the
world. It becomes metalogic: rationality about logical relations and beyond
logical relations. We must speculate hypothetically of the basic design of
human information, related to its functional processing, and which underlies
human meaning in the world.
The anthropology of theory must per force be an
understanding of "design science"--of how principles of design serve
to order our experiences of the world as well as functionally order the world
itself.
*****
The genome of a single cell contains the totipotency of the
entire species. Similarly, the cultural knowledge of a single informant can be
used to partially reconstruct an entire cultural world. Somewhere between the
genome and the informant, ranges the totipotency of the neuron to recreate the
human mind.
A digital computer may not replicate the functions of the
human mind, because the mind may function digitally like a computer, but does
not necessarily have to. The crux of the problem may be that neurons
themselves are not simple digital "on/of" switches in a vast neural
network of informational processing and learning. They may be more complex
devices as such, themselves bordering on the complexity of basic sentience.
The mind has been claimed to function like a holographic
recording device--it works with parallel distributed information processing.
Such a system of neurons forms a complex adaptive system in which individual
neurons can be rapidly reorganized and altered independently or in groups.
There are on top of this basic neuronal ordering of experience, other control
structures--that of the brain organization, of consciousness, and of cultural
knowledge and constraints which become internalized. We must see that the
entire meaning system may work simultaneously upon several interdependent
levels at the same time, each in a complex dual-processing dialectic. The
structure of DNA, of the brain, of dialogue, and of the social order itself,
replicates such dual processing upon different levels or orders of
information.
We must speculate further that these different levels may
be constructively combined in a conjunctively "coordinate state" or
else may be destructively combined in a disjunctively "discoordinate
state" which pervades information processing upon its many levels.
We may further speculate that such "coordinate
states" fall into certain complex "acceptance" states that are
to some extent dynamically self-maintaining. Given such acceptance states,
once the basic pattern is acquired and deeply embedded, state that we might
refer to as specialized adaptation embodying a "wisdom," the general
state may become less adaptive to further alterations or more susceptible to
major disruptive perturbations from which it may not be able to recover.
Fine-tuning of the system in its coordination upon different levels is gained
at the expense of a more general adaptability. Once a system crosses this
threshold of optimization, there may be small chance of its return to a more
adaptive order or of recovery.
*****
In the problem of the construction of intelligence, we are
bounded by the horizon of our own intellect.
Any artificial intelligence program or philosophy which
fails to address the human construction of reality;, of the cultural context
in which the meaning of "Mind" and "aboutness" are
inherently situated, must fail to achieve its goal of reconstructing human
intelligence. The meaning that any such program must capture and reproduce is
the meaning that is culturally constructed and an inextricable part of the
cultural context in which the program was constructed in the first place. From
this standpoint, we cannot clearly separate the program from the programmer,
and the program, as well as the machine in which the program exists, must be
seen as the extension of the world of the programmer. Thus we can see the real
aim of artificial intelligence as providing a sophisticated mirror, a
functional device, for allowing us to reflect critically upon how we construct
our sense of reality. And if a computer or a robot are an merely an extension
of our own minds in our construction of reality, then it should be possible to
eventually program them with the designs of knowledge which are intrinsic to
our own Mind. The robot may function in ways that are meaningful to ourselves,
but not necessarily in any other way. This is a separate and different problem
from the one of providing a computer with its own consciousness and its own
sense of history and artificial intelligence will remain just
that--artificial.
The problem of artificial intelligence is that it must
cross the nature-culture boundary. It is a human made device, a construction
of reality, which is supposed, like Frankenstein, to come back to life. The
problem of making something animate from the inanimate still eludes science.
Native intelligence is situated within a brain that was developed over
millions of years of evolution--we cannot easily extricate it and put it into
a computer. We can think of artificial intelligence as just that, an extension
of our own artificial, cultural construction of reality. It may not reveal
very much about our native intellectual capacities, except as these might be
tied to the cultural construction of reality.
From this standpoint, anthropology has at least the study
of the culture of knowledge and information to contribute to the problem of
artificial intelligence--to understand the embeddedness of human intelligence
in culture, its differential distribution across cultures, and its
relationship with human cognition. We should not presume a universality of a
non-linguistic, culturally disembedded "universality" of
"rationality" without an attempt to understand the anthropological
construction of rationality, and the possibility of alternative rationalities.
Our computers are supposed to provide us a window into the
"black box" of our own minds, but this is only possible if the
design of the computer program, and the device of the computer itself, are
based upon a theory about our Mind which can then be tested by the performance
and coherence of the program. One problem of this approach is that if the Mind
is a synthetic and synergistic property of the mental functioning of the
brain, then it may simply not be possible to reproduce it merely by the
enumeration and coordination of its many components. Another problem is again,
the problem of cultural context in which the construction of the program must
be situated.
We must distinguish then an important difference between
artificial intelligence as the product of a human programmer, as a part of our
cultural and cognitive construction of reality, and possible forms of
"alternative intelligence" about which we may speculate and come
into contact with, but not "know" from an insider's point of view.
We are reminded of the insuperable dilemma of "getting into the
head" of a dolphin or a chimpanzee or even of another person. It has
proven impossible to get into our own heads, much less figuring out the minds
of "Alien" visitors who would possess enough intelligence to visit
us. This is not so much a problem of "translation" of different,
unsynchronized, realities, but moreover the problem of simulating "native
speaker intuition" which allows us to automatically approximate and
abbreviate, without apparent strenuous and complicated mental calculations,
the probable meanings of another.
Another way of looking at this dilemma is that in order to
figure out a design of the human design of knowledge, we need to consider all
the alternatives for such design that are available or possibly available to
us, before we can begin to decide which one is the most suitable for
ourselves. In this, we have achieved almost no progress.
If we wish to achieve a rational and reflexive metalogue
with our computers, then provide a place for them within the anthropologically
constructed context of intelligence. This we have done, but in ways that do
not create the necessary awareness and reflexivity of their informational
content--they do not mediate change in reality in any complex sense.
We can easily see the revolutionary and transformative
effects of many technologies upon the noetic consciousness of
humankind--writing, electronic technology, mathematics, all have created a
vital, dynamic and cybernetic context in which human consciousness has been
expanded and developed. We hardly understand these consequences of the
interaction with a computer in terms of the exploratory extension and
elaboration of human consciousness, and its constructive consequences, in our
world, but they can be nothing less than revolutionary.
Part II
The ANTHROPOLOGY OF HUMAN CONSTRUCTION
We cannot escape the consequences of our own construction.
Taking into account the construction of anthropology in the
world, we are in a position to account for an "objective"
anthropological construction of the anthropological construction of human
reality. In this project we find the status of anthropology as an authentic
science to be most clearly situated. It offers a general framework for tying
together in a synthetic manner several fundamental problematic questions about
human reality, questions which by them selves may be insuperable or
irresolvable.
VII.
The Anthropology of Language
The anthropological construction of reality begins and ends
in language, for language lies at the core of our common being.
Human language is the critical determinant of the
"World View Problem" and exits centrally in the construction of both
cognition and culture and composes the nexus of relations between them.
Humankind evolved as the consequence of the acquisition of language, the
general organizational structure of the human brain consists of those
components and complexes that are specially adapted for speech-tool production
and processing, the entire "anthropological complex" is a
generalized adaptive mechanism in human evolution.
The anthropology of language cannot be properly conceived
outside of the context of this complex and its consequence of the
anthropological construction of reality--in other words any complete theory of
language must be based upon the consideration of its central location in this
complex construction of reality. We cannot clearly or analytically separate
the study of language from the study of its cultural context or its cognitive
design as if it existed in isolation and independently in reality--every
component of language, its syntax, semantics, pragmatics, phonology or
morphology cannot be considered outside of this holistic anthropological
complex.
A theory of the anthropology of language must take into
explicit account several problem sets:
1. The problem of language change, both internally as a
function of drift, and externally as a function of inter-lingual contact.
2. The problem of the social functionality of
language--language as an inherent, institutionalized social phenomena.
3. The problem of the systematic "structure"
of language process and its patterned variations.
4. The problem of the relationship between language,
cognition and culture.
5. The general problem of linguistic acquisition.
From an anthropological standpoint, these central problem
areas in the study of language should be interdependent in their explanation,
such that a general anthropological theory of language should simultaneously
and satisfactorily resolve all four problem sets.
A "functional-constructionist theory" of language
is proposed as such a theory, one that is based upon an integrated
"holistic-relational" theory of grammar, and one that successfully
resolves these four problem sets. Given a predominantly structuralist
orientation of American linguists, I do not expect that this theory would be
well received. It is of a "synthetic" variety that is not highly
regarded from a strictly positivistic point of view.
The value of such an anthropological theory of language is
that, if it proves to be productive and insightful, should be generalizable to
other aspects of cultural life, and to the general anthropological problem of
"culture" itself, in modified form. It should also yield an
important psychological theory of meaning, the cognitive construction of
reality, of the development of personality and the dynamics of socialization
and enculturation. In other words, it promises a unified theoretical framework
that may help partially resolve many important anthropological questions
beyond itself.
*****
Structure must at some point account for the fact that the
only thing that does not change is change itself.
The science of comparative linguistics was founded in the
demonstration of systematic processes of language change. The ordered nature
of linguistic process has been the source of some paradigmatic unity for the
science of linguistics. But change processes, and the mechanisms causing and
conditioning the directionality of change, are not well understood.
Every component of a language, its syntax, lexicon,
phonetics, are subject to continuous change. If we consider a language
spectrum composed of several tens of thousands of languages that have been
spoken by humankind through its many millenium, we can name those changes that
tended to increase the overall linguistic diversity and divergent linguistic
evolution against those that tended to decrease diversity, as convergent
linguistic evolution.
Change occurs endogenously in all languages, and all
language groups are subject to exogenous influences that can result in many
abrupt and dramatic alterations. Endogenous change must be seen in the longer
span as a fairly stable and continuous form of change--a rate which may in the
long run be expected to be relatively constant even though there may be a
great deal of local variability. The Age-Area hypothesis holds that such
language change will be greatest in focal areas of interchange and
interaction, and that language will be most conservative in isolated,
peripheral areas of least contact. From this standpoint, some of the sources
of internal change may be very similar to those of external change--the former
occurring within a domestic context while the latter may represent the same
sorts of phenomena but occurring in a wider, inter-group context.
Exogenous language change has not been well studied in its
variety and thus is not well understood. This form of change can be quite
variable in its rate and form of occurrence, which makes its effects much more
difficult to "retrodict" than those of internal change processes.
Long term contact and interaction between two language groups will produce
cross-over in both directions, generally of a phonologically modified lexicon
based upon domains and categories of terms which have been borrowed from the
neighbor culture. The History of English has been a prototypical example of
the complexity of such exogenous change processes. The Norman conquest
consisted of a relatively few but powerful lords who nevertheless superimposed
their own French Idiom upon the old English, with the result that now more
than 60% of the English lexicon is derived from French. Few if any language
groups have remained permanently isolated or shut off from contact with any
outside groups, thus most if not all languages have been subject to some
degree of exogeneous change.
This makes the net analysis of a "change profile"
for any language at any given moment of it history extremely problematic. In
other words, we lack any non-relative, absolute baseline for language change,
from which we derive the "pure" and "unadulturated" native
language. We must speak of a language continuum and of a robust continuity of
language change time immemorial. It is frequently difficult to draw the line
between those linguistic elements that were the result of some previous
borrowing or were "sui generis" to some "native core". In
this regard, the comparison of related languages and of their divergence from
an original "core" comes to our assistance, except that it does not
allow us to peer into their history past the moment of their divergence. What
is missing is an historical account of the actual phenomena and processes that
had previously affected that core. Recently, theorists have exploited this
type of comparative analysis of languages to build a tree for most languages
on earth, stemming from some "proto-language" at some remote time in
the past.
The problem with this approach is that it attempts to group
languages and derive deep history on the basis of the surface patterning
alone. It can neither provide an account of the history of the borrowing of
such words, and it cannot present a sense of historical parallax as to the
actual depth or scale of time involved in this linguistic evolution. It
necessarily oversimplifies an extremely complex picture of language changes,
and thus provides only a superficial account of the history of the language
continuum.
A similar kind of genetic tree has been made based upon
analysis of the molecular clock, which stipulates that all present populations
of humans descended ultimately from a single Eve perhaps 150,000 years ago, or
similar socio-biological accounts that closely link language, other cultural
traits and genetic frequency as relatively conservative complexes.
The absurdity of this kind of account stems not so much
from the unlikelihood of such evidence, but from a common sort of fallacy such
accounts are based upon. This fallacy is one of assuming a common genetic
factor, or a "least common denominator" which common ties all
"languages" or "peoples" or "cultures" on the
surface because they share the common definition of language, people or
culture. Building the genetic tree consists in progressive excluding the
unrelated components of each element, until just the "common core"
is condensed out. It is like a pile sort based upon the overarching question
of "which are the most related"--and we can perform just such a pile
sort using genetic markers of similarity, etc., upon the linguistic data, etc.
We thus superimpose a hierarchy of determinations based not
so much upon the actual history of the elements, but upon our question and
presupposition of "common affinity." Whether it is based upon
empirical data or our own reading or convictions about such data, the
resulting hierarchy is derived from our own sense of order and not from
history. There is no reason to assume, on the basis of such hierarchies, that
the history or genetic "tree" of languages has ever been
hierarchically arranged on the principle of categorical exclusion of
differences. A long history of exogenous change would rather tend to produce a
picture of hederarchical associations of non-exclusive categories, and thus
render a picture of a long bundle of strands inter-linked with one another.
Thus whether we are speaking linguistically about 30 thousand years ago or
genetically of 150 thousand years, there is no reason or justification for the
presumption of one common "ancestor."
The linguistic and genetic pictures of those points in time
were likely as complicated as they are today--and the linkages producing the
continuities between then and now are as numerous and as indirect as they are
today.
On the basis of this we can formulate a basic proposition
regarding language affinity and change--not all language change is
"genetic"--language affinities may be the result of convergence and
of exogenous changes, and language differences may be the result of divergence
and endogenous change. We must consider language change to involve not only
the process of "fissioning" but also of "fusion". But in
both cases, the net profile of a language at any given moment in its history
is a complex combination of both sets of influences. It can be expected that
over the long run the combinations of these influences will "even
out" to a "continuous rate and directionality" of change and
will produce some kind of trajectory for the entire language continuum in
terms of this continuum's increasing structural complexity and
"criticality". We can also expect to see a long-term pattern of the
ebb and flow of language change, long periods of relative stability in
languages, and then brief, climactic episodes of dramatic change.
It is at this point in our argument that we need to
consider the "birth" of new languages from the contact and fusion of
two or more languages. In a sense, this is what happens whenever exogenous
change is dramatic and relatively abrupt. In other words, if we look at the
deep history, we can consider many more languages than appear to be the case,
to have been "born" in the process of creolization at some point in
their past. The sudden emergence of a "Creole" can be an infrequent
but fairly rapid phenomenon. It can emerge within the span of one or two
generations. The predominant "language biogram hypothesis" is
founded upon the presumption that there is an abrupt edge to the ancestral
"basolect," with the result that a generation of native speakers are
reared in a "linguistic vacuum" or deficit by "pidgin"
speaking parents. This young generation is forced to fall back upon their
biologically programmed linguistic resources and invariably fill in the gulf
in their language with a "natural" and rudimentary grammatical
structure that resembles the speech stages of young children. By the time
these speakers come of age, a full-blown Creole language has emerged.
The fallacy of this argument is rooted in the presumption
that there can be genetic and cultural continuity across generations, and yet
some kind of linguistic deficit or discontinuity as the result of pidgin
speaking, ignorant and illiterate parents. This presumption either
underestimates the linguistic character of a pidgin as a full-blown language
capable of transmuting not only itself, but culture as well, or else it, more
likely, it oversimplifies the complex picture of language change processes
that are occurring at the moment in time. First, the "pidgin"
speaking parents are more likely fused bilinguals having to interact in public
in a foreign language they have almost no tuition or familiarity with--the
likelihood of using a pidgin, by definition a "trade-language" at
home or in a temple is not great.
There can be no such thing as a "linguistic
vacuum" of an "impaired" or inadequate language competency by
native speakers. There is thus a language boundary between a devalued,
domestic "mother tongue" and a publicly powerful "language of
the law." This situation is accentuated by the possible frequency of
actual miscegenation and amalgamation as the result of intermarriage. The
children thus grow up within a funny and complicated linguistic environment.
What they become is sort of "permanently fused" multilingual--the
context of multilinguistic fusion becomes incorporated or internalized in the
child, thus a new 'Creole' is precipitated. The child-like qualities of its
emergence and development are simply that--the speech of children who must
within a shared context of a child-culture, work out a common grammar. The
language form eventually will fall into an "acceptance" state that
will, like a center of gravity, accrete and eliminate random variability. The
children of these contexts are not "filling in" a vacuum, so much as
they are internalizing as a native language a linguistic environment marked by
a strong boundary and inter-lingual fusion.
From this standpoint, we must consider the value of code
switching as a form of an acquired linguistic competency, and code mixing as a
precursor to such "fusion" from which new dialects and languages are
born. Code switching between different idioms, styles, dialects or languages,
is a skill that children learn from a very early time, and become masters of
by the time they are teenagers. Code switching in complex environments is a
function of multilingual acquisition and a mark of processes of linguistic
fusion. If speakers were fully independently bilingual in such contexts,
code-mixing would not be necessary, and code-switching would be purely a
function of the social context--code-switching would not occur on the basis of
the native speaker's intuitions or preferences for one idiom or another.
The case of language death is another example that
illustrates the importance and role that the "boundary" between
public and domestic and internal and external plays in language change.
Languages which are confined exclusively to the isolation of the household and
to the speech of grandparents are bound to die out with the passing of the
generations if they are not permitted a part to play in the public sectors of
language.
*****
The wheel turns faster at its edge than at its center.
Though all elements of a language are subject to change, it
is apparent that some kinds of components are subject to change
differentially, and some are, in given contexts, more likely to change, and
others are more likely to remain conservative. From this standpoint, we must
consider that at any given moment, a language represents a "net
profile" or a "robust state" which is uniquely patterned and
which permits a range of differences in the possibilities and patterns of
change. This argues for an external/internal boundary separating one language
from another, within which each language demonstrates a holistic integration
and limits of differential variation in form and function. There then becomes
a boundary between "species" of languages which is quite similar to
the conventional boundaries between biological species--that of reproductive
isolation. The commonly accepted definition of such a linguistic boundary is
one of "mutual unintelligibility." Given such a boundary, a language
is presumed to be inherently conservative and self-stabilizing, and to have
certain "threshold" for crossing which mitigates the possibilities
of exogenous change. Each language boundary also presents a
"semi-permeable" membrane which selective filters out new elements
to be incorporated.
The conventional picture of languages tends to see
languages as quite conservative and stable and as separated into little
gardens of continuity--some have tried to link these gardens to cultural and
genetic continuity as well. Though the notions of a linguistic change
continuum and of linguistic fusion tend to blur such boundaries somewhat by
emphasizing process and change over stability of pattern and conservatism,
such boundaries do in factor seem to hold true for most languages. But the
areal boundaries and the linguistic map of the world given at a particular
cross-section of time, do not necessarily represent the enduring temporal
boundaries that define languages.
In the definition of these boundaries, we must acknowledge
the important role which political and functional isolation of languages has
played in creating conditions that has lead to the linguistic separation of
peoples. Once political boundaries are created, even with closely related
languages, schismogenesis can result in more rapid and increased separation
between the languages.
The paradox seems to be this--the continuity of any given
language includes continuous change. Presumed continuity across space may
occlude the actual situation of many isolectal boundaries and dialectical,
idiomatic and stylistic variability within a language at any given moment--as
long as these internal boundaries do not result in mutual unintelligibility
they do not result in linguistic fission. At any given moment, some elements
in a language are dying out, while others are emerging, some elements are
diminishing in frequency and pervasiveness, others are increasing. Thus
languages exhibit a continuous tidal and current of change--a kind of
"brownian motion" of its molecules.
The robust profile of the holistic integration presupposed
as fundamental to the intelligibility and coherence of any language at any
moment presents patterning not only of its elements and their differential
distribution, but also of the possibilities and likelihood for directions and
rates of change. We can speak of and define the "critical state" of
any given language at any given time as the "net moment"
cumulatively balanced by its combination of stable elements and the diverse
changes among these elements. The nature of language structure and of its
systematic and a-systematic changes must be comprehended from this standpoint
of its holistic integrity and functional constraints, and from the degrees of
freedom and range of variation permitted or tolerated.
A linguistic tradition would be one that values
conservatism of its elements and devalues variation and change. Languages can
thus become "institutionalized" as conservative forces in a culture,
and can also become implicated as "change mediators" within
revolutionary social movements. The analysis of a linguistic moment can also
be used to provide a window upon the complexities of the social and historical
environment in which it is situated. Dramatic moments of social change will be
reflected in the transitional state of its language--periods of stasis will be
reflected in the stability of the language form, and periods of complex
interchange and contact will also be reflected in the multilingual complexity
of the language environment.
We must consider this external/internal boundary in the
definition of language as nowhere absolute or fixed. It is a relative boundary
that permits always some modicum of crossing. Another way of saying this is
that there is no human social context of absolute mutual unintelligibility, in
spite of linguistic differences two people can make themselves understood.
Being wholly relative, these boundaries then permit some degree of flexibility
and "fuzziness" of their definition--a quality of language that
becomes important in considering their social functionality, construction and
holistic integration.
It is important to emphasize at this point that no language
is a perfectly coherent system. All languages suffer from a degree of
incoherence and ambiguity of function and meaning. Languages are more coherent
in some spheres of reality than in others, and may even remain silent about
others. Language systems thus are to be seen as imperfect and subject to the
effects of continuous variation and change. Human language usually works very
well, extremely well in certain contexts, but it also sometimes fails to work
at all. In this regard, we must remember the linguistic lessons of Alice in
Wonderland--the world of wonderland was made topsy-turvy not by its linguistic
ambiguity, but by its extreme linguistic coherence--by the over-determined
uses to which its language was put. It was Alice's own linguistic ambiguity
and tolerance for the ambiguous that enabled her to successful navigate her
trail though wonderland.
*****
The power of language is in the dialectic between convention
and arbitrariness.
We have come to the point where we need to consider the
basic mechanisms of language change, as well as to a consideration of the
anthropological construction of language that is founded upon its function
within socio-cultural and historical contexts.
The basic mechanism of language change must be regarded as
the freedom of stylistic variation and flexibility or looseness that is
provided in all systems. All constraints that order a language permit of some
tolerance for error and margin of variability. There can not be a totally
"constrained" or over determined language system, because the
inherent openness and productivity of human language depends upon this
inherent flexibility and freedom incorporated into its design. Each language
permits a certain amount of free play in all of its components. Some
components of a language are more highly constrained than others, yet even the
most restrictive still allows of some modicum of variation. Human beings,
creatures of play and exploration, tend to take license of this inherent
"looseness" of their language to experiment, play and create new
forms. Less constrained components of a language may be subject to greater
variation, hence change, than others. "Ignored" elements may exist
in unaltered form, and may become extinguished.
The directionality of changes will be determined by the
nature of the constraints imposed upon change, both internally and externally.
Externally, the central mechanism of this kind of control of change must be
seen in the use of language to convey critical information of intrinsic
importance in the world--more focal aspects of language will tend to be more
highly elaborated than peripheral aspects. Especially important in this
regard, are those dimensions that relate to social distance and valuation of
people--language can be used as a social distancing device to create and
reinforce boundaries separating people and to define hierarchies of social
status and power in the world.
Stylistic differentiation is an important motivational
force in language change, in both its directionality and its intensity--a kind
of schismogenesis previously noted. There is in this a premium placed upon the
communicative, or information carrying function of language--language
difference can promote differential valuations and inhibit or facilitate the
transmission of important information across social boundaries. Language can
be a source of pride and common identity for a group, as well as a badge of
projective prejudice and discrimination.
Internal mechanisms controlling the direction and
resistance to change have to do with the structural integrity or coherence of
the system a whole. Generally, we can argue that changes in a language will be
accepted if they facilitate the communicative function of language or to
elaborate the expressive function. Facilitation of communication and
elaboration of expressiveness are of course complementary in language function
in terms of enhanced competence and improved performance. This is where the
focal areas of linguistic activity will be subject to greater elaboration,
hence more susceptible to change, than more peripheral areas. As can be seen
from the previous discussion of socio-structural constraints in linguistic
control, external and internal constraints are coordinate and complementary to
one another. They are, in other words, constitutive of a dialectical
cybernetic system of language the consequences of which determine the
direction language changes will go, if not the actual content or value of such
changes.
Given a science with sufficient sophistication, we might be
able to predict how a language may change within a given language environment,
but not exactly what the changes will be. This, again, is a function of the
"arbitrariness" of human language, one nevertheless conditioned by
conventionality. Internal constraints of a language are themselves in part
constrained by external constraints--the appropriate style and manner of
speech one adopts is largely dependent on the social context. What becomes
acceptable and appropriate as the preferred, or prestige or standard form of a
language will be measured by these external conditions.
External constraints condition internal constraints, but do
not themselves determine them. To a large extent, the internal order of the
human language system is self-organizing and internally self-constraining.
Changes in one part of the system may have reverberations in other aspects, or
entail a chain of changes elsewhere within the system. In this regard, we must
understand that the different dimensions and components of the system are
integrated in the overall control structure they represent--syntactic changes
may lead to morphological alterations, modified phonology may lead to a shift
in the meaning of a term, and in its use.
The mechanisms of change do not of themselves determine
whether a change will be accepted and adopted, or else disregarded. The
resistance or acceptance of any given alteration will be multi-factorially
determined. In this regard a few alterations will prove very successful, while
many others will fail. There is no single reason governing why or how a given
change will "catch on" and become widespread, but again, we must
look for external criteria in conjunction with internal principles.
In terms of the basic mechanisms of change, they are the
same whether we construe them as endogenous or exogenous to a language. In
this regard we clearly see the dialectical relationship between language and
power to control and direct change in terms of the constraints of convention
and the arbitrariness of linguistic production.
We may posit a dialectical relation between the expressive
elaboration of a language and its increasing coherence. In general, endogenous
changes in a language will tend toward the increase in the internal coherence,
or the minimization of structural ambiguity, of a language, but at the
sacrifice of its external expressiveness. Exogenous changes will tend toward
the elaboration of the external expressiveness of a language, or the
minimization of functional ambiguity, but at the sacrifice of internal
coherence. Thus we may speak of a certain optimal limit or threshold in
language change. In this regard we may see pidgins and Creoles as containing a
"reduced" and simplified grammar, but accomplishing what may be
impossible in a more common linguistic context--the mutual intelligibility of
speakers from two different language backgrounds.
*****
Linguistic competency may be common to all, but it is
performance that makes the critical difference
We have come to a point at which we can now consider a
theory of human language which I have termed
"functional-constructionist"--one which calls for a specific kind of
theory of language structure. In subordinating language structure to
linguistic function, I wish to thereby reemphasize the inherent and
inextricable importance of the sociality of language--language cannot be
properly conceived of except as a social phenomenon. The social functions to
which language is put, and the designs and strategies for the employment and
construction of language on a daily basis, are the primary factors in the
determination of the structure and patterning which language acquires. I also
thereby bring the problem of language theory back to the muddy question of
human meaning and the making of meaning in the world--to which it has always
belonged, and from which the "structural linguists" have seen fit to
alienate their science of linguistics.
Language is the principle mechanism available to human
beings to create and maintain social boundaries in the world. By its encoding
and definition of knowledge, language also becomes the principal medium for
the differential distribution of the "social stock of knowledge."
Speaking and interaction is the principle mechanism for the maintenance of
subjectively based internalizations of the culturally constructed world.
Language precipitates the meanings, values and helps to solidify the socially
constructed world. Language is the basis of rationality and rationalization,
and is the principle means of the basic anthropological fallacies upon which
the efficacy of the constructed world depends--the fallacies of abstraction,
reification and reductionism. Language maintains the deceit and illusion of
ideology and false consciousness--it is only by means of our language that we
are capable of lying. Language is the principle means of the symbolic encoding
of reality that reinforced on a secondary plane, the institutional processes
of everyday life. Language is the principle means of the expression of our
subjective character and interest, and for the realization of our common
humanity. It is the principle means for the communication of information upon
which complex social organization depends. All of these functions are central
to language, and language is central to all of these functions in the social
world of humankind.
We cannot every clearly separate these functions from one
another in our daily discourse. Many of these are often combined in the same
utterance or discursive frame. Often one or another function is super-ordinate
in the strategic control or manipulation of language within a given context.
The stylistic variation that is the main mechanism of language change is
largely constrained within the scope of control of this functional hierarchy.
The social success of individuals within the system is often defined by their
mastery of the functionality of their language in the construction of reality.
This mastery is not only rhetorical or ertistic or a matter of sophistication
or refinement. Silence often speaks louder than words, and nonverbal
communication or actions may even speak louder yet. But however pragmatic the
strategic deployment of language, it is always poetic--poetic mastery of one's
language becomes the proof of performance, without which the doubt of one's
linguistic competency would always remain. In this regard, a virtuoso
performance in plain old Black English can be used much more powerfully than
the best of the Queen's English.
Language is the principle mechanism for the encoding and
expression of information, for the mediation, coordination and control of
change in reality.
It is important to understand the role of the
institutionalization of language, and that language plays in the process of
the institutionalization and legitimization of the anthropological
construction of reality.
*****
Language mediates the boundary between the internal world of
consciousness and external world of being.
The central function of language in the anthropological
construction of reality forms the context for understanding the structural
patterning of language. Language is a complex system for encoding and making
sense of human reality, and for the communication of information. In order to
achieve these functions all languages require some form or other of systematic
structure which constrain the possible variations of patterns--all systems
must be non-chaotic and coherent in order to encode and carry information. The
signals that compose any language must be ordered and rearranged according to
understood principles.
A "holistic-relational" theory of language
grammar holds that all components of a language must be considered together in
the composition of its structure--implicit rules regulate meaning and
pragmatics as much as syntax, word associations and signs must be predictable
and stable in order to make sense of the world. From this standpoint, we
cannot consider analytically any single component of a language system as
existing independently of all others.
The interdependencies of all linguistic components
determine that each language has a unique structural patterning relative to
that language, that all languages are continuously changing, and that each
language has its own particular history of configuration and modification.
This does not mean that languages cannot be usefully compared in terms of
their structure, and that genetic relationships do not exist between
languages. Nor does it mean that there is not a biological substrate
underlying all linguistic process which predetermines in certain fundamental
and universal ways the outermost boundaries and design of human language. But
this biological basis of human language is not predeterminative of the surface
structure which languages take--it determines neither the form nor the content
which linguistic construction shall take, but only the outermost boundaries
within which almost continuous variation is possible. This surface structure
has no underlying "deep structure" which causes its patternings--but
it does have a structural history and a background of change. As coherence
systems, all languages are by definition self-organizationally stable and
conservative. Internally, they change towards a net increase in coherence and
a minimization of ambiguity.
Externally, they change towards the enhancing of the
functional performance of the language within its many contexts. A language
hangs together in a minimally coherent manner because they are thus integrated
and adaptive in the world. They draw and maintain a boundary around themselves
that mark off the internal linguistic world of the language, and the external
realities of the world. The surface structure of a language must be understood
in terms of this boundary and its requirements.
It is from this standpoint that I will refer to the
distinction between the extrinsic and intrinsic relational structure of
language, as necessarily the two sides of this hypothetical boundary--the
former reinforcing language from without, so the speak, the latter from
within. I refer to it as a "relational" structure because, I
believe, all languages set up a vast and intricate system of relations that
serve to define and situate each element of spoken or written discourse within
a larger history of the language, that "contextualizes" the net
value of that element in such a way as to render it linguistically
significant. Some sound or signal that for some reason fails to fit within
this relational context must be seen as linguistically anomalous and as if
nonsensical noise--signals may fit in partially but fail importantly in even
just one critical sense, and hence fail to make sense except as suggestion or
error or nonsense. It is from this consideration that we can speak of the
relational "positionality" of a linguistic element as its net,
inherent value at the critical moment of its production in context.
It must be kept in mind that though to be coherent a
language must be holistically integrated and functionally adapted, it is
neither perfectly structured from an internal point of view or functionally
adaptive externally. The incompleteness of the system is both a source of its
error and "ambiguity" as well as the source for its flexibility,
variability and change. All languages tolerate a certain modicum of ambiguity
and error, as well as variability and change. One important way to get at the
structure of any language is by studying the systematic kinds of errors and
ambiguity that may exist in different components of a language.
Human languages are defined by, among other things, the
design feature of openness. Though mechanically composed of only a finite set
of discrete sounds, these sounds can nevertheless be arranged into a virtual
infinity of possible patterns. The relational structure which impinges upon
these linguistic possibilities at any given moment, determined by the total
incorporated history of the language, creates what can be technically referred
to as a linguistic paradigm which systematically reduces the infinitude of
variation to humanly meaningful proportions and ordered arrangement.
Each language works within its own linguistic paradigm in
the production of new meanings and possibilities of pattern. It is because of
this that the systematic study of language as a science is possible, that
language is not burdened by infinite complexity as a patterned system, and
that different languages can be productively compared and analyzed in terms of
their paradigms in order to get at the implicit rational design of these
structures and at some of the conditional factors that influence their
development in any given language and in human language in general. Again it
must be emphasized that there is no compelling reason to presume that the
paradigm of human language must itself be based upon genetic and biological
structures--if these are anything, then they are but one dimension of
constraint within these linguistic paradigms.
The distinction between extrinsic and intrinsic structure
in human language is the basis of the design feature of "duality of
patterning"--language is a finite set of signs which by virtue of their
rearrangement can produce an infinite set of patternings which point to a
world beyond the signs themselves. This is also the basis for the claim of the
symbolic character of language, and for the "displacement" of
significance beyond the intrinsic value of the sign itself. In human language,
the dichotomy between intrinsic and extrinsic structure is purely an
analytical contrivance, a convenient entry point into language; in reality
intrinsic and extrinsic qualities interpenetrate one another in every
component of a language, such that it is never possible to clearly delineate
between the two.
Extrinsic and intrinsic properties converge together in the
encoding of reality, in the codification of language itself. The marking of
the linguistic boundary consists in the production of explicit signs and
signals from within a vast field of otherwise implicit relations. Because the
sign is finite, it can only make explicit one or a few of the dimensions of
relation in which it is situated. This rendering explicit what otherwise
remains implicit, is a way of configuring a complex "emblem" against
a background field. The "structure" of the sign is outlined by its
background relational field--this is its extrinsic structure. The sign itself
presents an explicit outline that, by foregrounding, contrasts the background.
This is the intrinsic structure. Natural information in the universe is purely
intrinsic--this configuration of significance between foreground and
background does not occur.
Another way of putting this is to claim that language, by
its explicit encoding of a few significant elements out of an immense field of
relations, achieves a complex symbolic relation based upon pattern
recognition. The outline of the sign within the field creates a meaningful
pattern, which, from an extrinsic standpoint, is unique to that moment.
The explicit encoding of information in language can be
expected to follow certain principles of priority--the principle of economy,
or of least effort, and the principle of value, or of greatest effect. In
terms of this encoding, certain implicit categories of significance will be
implicitly inferred, and others may be explicit referred to--we make a
distinction between overt and covert categories. A great deal of syntax
centers upon this issue of encoding of meaning in language. From a
functionalist standpoint, even categories of Noun and Verb can be seen to be
implicit in the encoding. It is not difficult to see that this sense of syntax
is not very distant from, indeed, almost synonymous with, the problem of
meaning, or of semantics. Explicit encoding is also seen as a means of
"marking" a relational category as somehow significant. In general,
"unmarked" categories that remain implicitly in the background are
considered to be more "basic" to the structure of meaning.
Marking is construed as a means of emphasizing some
elements in a field over others, and entails an intrinsic form of valuation,
or significant contrast, between marked and unmarked elements or relations. To
turn what is basically, or implicitly a "noun" in a normal field of
relations into a verb, certain transformations of "marking" must be
effected--similarly to change what remains implicitly a verb into a noun,
other conventions marking the transformation must be effected, such as turning
"is" into "an 'Is'".
In this framework, it can be seen that meaning is by its
design arbitrary. There are no fixed, a priori, absolute or non-relative
relations that predetermine the significance of any particular sign for all
time. This intrinsic flexibility in the use of signs in human language is
called the "associational value" of the element. Each and every sign
may be used in a variety of ways--but this usage entails the syntactic marking
by means of conventional formula. Syntactic order enters into the
transformations of basic meanings by means of the superimposition of
conventions in the use of linguistic elements. Even the deliberate violation
such conventions must themselves be somehow "marked" as such.
We are lead to a consideration of two interrelated aspects
of meaning and meaning-making in human language. First, "basicness"
presumes a "prototypical" implicit field of relations which
prototypicality reveals interesting facets about human knowledge. On a common
sense level, the "basic categories" of meaning, though largely
culturally constructed artifacts, forms the substrate of value and
signification. Basicness of categories is widely presumed to be a universal
substrate of human experience and cognitive recognition in the world--the case
of the near-universal acquisition of basic color terminology reveals how our
common experience may be similarly ordered upon a subconscious level. But the
basicness defines the "center" of gravity of meaning of a basic
category of relational value, but it does not clearly mark the boundaries or
outermost periphery of such categories. This can be considered from another
point of view. "Basic categories" which mark the centrality but not
the peripheries of meaning, are usually regarded as mutually exclusive, and
therefore as hierarchically related.
We can speculate upon certain "marginal" or
"derivative" or secondary categories which serve the function of
defining the peripheries of basic categories, and which tend to be mutually
nonexclusive and nonhierarchical in relation with one another. We can assume
that these secondary categories are more explicitly marked by conventional
constraints than are basic categories, because they tend to be more ambiguous.
Another complementary aspect of this is what might be
called the "embedding of conventional constraint" in the implicit
field of relations such that categorical markers which are clearly
conventional artifices, are nevertheless normally construed as if
"basic" and natural to the background field of relations. This
embedding is accounted for in several ways, and it becomes the basis for the
inherent stability and conservatism of language, and for its great
functionality in the world. It is largely a function of the way information
becomes neurally encoded in the brain--not only are basic categories marked
out in this way, but a cultural construction which proceeds to delineate a
greater number of derivative categories also entails the neuronal embedding of
this knowledge in the brain.
This "embedding" of constraint within language is
the principle means of increasing the coherence of language and reducing its
ambiguity. We must distinguish this implicit embedding of constraint in
language from the explicit encoding that marks its normal usage. This implicit
embedding; follows the contours of basicness and thus serves to mark out and
define more clearly the boundaries about basic categories.
Another way of putting this, is that the more refined and
fine tuned the pattern recognition function of a language, the greater the
number of secondary categories will be marked out as if primary and basic, and
the less implicit will be the ambiguity which exists among unmarked
categories. It can be seen how cultural bias can become experientially rooted
upon the level of common sense and even of perceptuality--conventions of value
and propriety can become implicitly embedded in the very articulation of
language, on a level which remains out of awareness, because unmarked.
We can expect cross-cultural convergence along toward the
more basic categories of meaning, and greater divergence along the more
peripheral categories. We can also expect that if there is a lower limit of
the substrate of "basicness" of relational categories, there may
also be an upper ceiling or limit upon the number of derived categories which
can be effectively embedded. Expert knowledge is an example of these kinds of
limits--human expertise entails a great sophistication and refinement along
focal areas, but great depth is achieved at the cost of breadth. From this
standpoint, not only do different cultures very significantly in the number of
basic categories they mark out, but also in the number of "domains"
of relation which they mark for such embedding.
In relation to this, it is worthwhile to consider embedding
in relation to "elaboration". We can expect that wherever we find
greater elaboration of certain relational domains, there will also occur
greater embedding of conventions upon secondary categories.
Elaboration is the explicit marking of secondary categories
in such a way as to incorporate greater variability in the patterning. We
refer to this as stylization, and it bears an interesting relationship with
the communicative function of the enhancement of coherence and reduction of
ambiguity. Elaboration recalls the expressive function of language, and is
tied up in its marking and explicitness. Elaboration can be seen as
dialectically antithetical to the process of conventional constraint, and
becomes a way of anti-structurally defining the negative outline of language
structure. This anti-structural function of elaboration, by virtue of its
markedness, is a means of making manifest the marginal and implicitly
ambiguous. It should be expected that as elaboration proceeds, embedding of
convention will follow. We can see clearly the expressive, experimental and
exploratory function of language play in the process of elaborating marginal
areas of reality.
There is another way of looking at the relationship between
embedding and elaboration--elaboration proceeds where embedding can follow.
There are marginal boundaries of all knowledge that, because of the upper
limits of the embedding function, embedding cannot follow elaboration. In
these regions, even elaboration must be constrained, because it no longer
serves its function of precipitating embedding. We can expect in these areas
to find the most explicit constraints of convention, which are not concerned
with elaboration, but with the strictures of the reduction of ambiguity by the
increase of coherence. We can expect that these areas come to have a certain
"negative basicness" about them in that they point to a center or
locus of categorical constraint which is exclusive and hierarchical, but which
leaves the margins to be defined by elaboration. Explicit constraints thus are
hedged all about by elaboration, though they appear to share the same
categorical imperative of function as to implicit basic categories.
There is in the relation between basic categories that are
implicit and basic constraints of meaning that are made explicit, a certain
"shadow effect" in which such constraints, though conventional and
arbitrary, come to acquire a "basicness" about them which is similar
to basic categories. This can be put in another way--basic categories tend
toward the simplification of the explicit encoding, and so do basic
constraints--neither are enumerated or elaborated at any great length, though
both are hedged all about by much embedding and elaboration.
In this explanation, we proceed upon a continuum from the
most basic and implicit categories of experience, through marginal embedded
and elaborated categories of constraint, to basic and explicit categories.
There is in this movement a dialectic between implicit meaning and explicit
constraint.
This brings up an important point about language--all
implicit relations are virtually encodable, or are capable of being made
explicit, whether or not they actually are. This is a basic design feature of
human language--all human languages share the capacity for encoding any and
every relation possible. Given the paradigmatic structure of certain
languages, it certainly holds that certain categories are less readily encoded
than others--the finite structure of any given language may make it extremely
difficult to encode some forms of relation and very easy to encode others.
This "comprehensivity" of language is tied to its productivity and
openness as a coherence system.
*****
We will not discover the universal structure of language in
formal rules, but in the errors and violations of the rules we make and use
We have arrived at the point of considering what a language
paradigm consists of and what factors may account for a particular
organization of a language paradigm. In order to do so, we need to account for
the basic structure of the sentence. Intrinsic relational structure is that
which is specific to the construction of sentences--all other relations which
impinge upon the significance of an utterance are to be regarded as extrinsic.
Intrinsic meaning is always explicit, except where it has become embedded. Put
simply, any language paradigm consists of a control structure that governs the
intrinsic structure of language at the level of sentence construction. It is
the sentential paradigm of a language which governs the type of marking and
transformations possible within a language, and in terms of which change
becomes realized.
There is no need to posit a universal deep structure to the
construction of such paradigms, for they remain largely culturally implicit
and conservative. It is unlikely that, given the requirements of natural
language in terms of flexible decoding and encoding the world in a coherent
and consistent way, it should be mathematically structured like any
finite-state machine. The logic of the paradigmatic structure is largely
informal and defined by its exceptions and variations. We can posit certain
minimum constraints that any language must systematically incorporate in order
to maximize coherence, such that syntax should have an optimum level given the
design features inherent in human language. Exactly what these constraints may
be will vary widely with different languages, and the results of different
sets of constraints will produce differential patterns.
In this regard the lesson of translation from one code to
another is information--it entails the transformational encoding of a message
in one linguistic order into a correlate in another. A similar process may be
happening in normal speech production that produces almost infinite variations
upon a few basic constraints. Are there basic patterns upon which such
transformations are based for any given language, therefore requiring many
rules for transformation, or else are there available to the average speaker a
relative large set of schematic linguistic "chunks" which require
only slight marking or alteration to be made serviceable in speech. Evidence
of oral traditions supports an hypothesis of such schematic
"chunking" in a language. In a literate context, chunks may remain,
but in smaller, more grammatically parsable units. It is also possible that a
mixed kind of situation exists for most languages--with some regions of a
language governed by basic paradigmatic units or rules, and others less
grammatically encoded but more highly schematized. In regard to this aspect of
speech production, we really do not know how language works to construct
sentences that make sense.
To examine what a basic sentence is, we must see that it is
foremost an explicitly defined relation--or what might be referred to as a
relational statement. A sentence serves the function of marking out one
particular significant relation, or related set of relations, for some
functional purpose. The relation focuses upon the identity of a
"thing" that is the main subject of the sentence--the relation marks
in some way the "thingness" of the subject in some functional way.
The most basic sentence is a one word utterance or
exclamation--this is the most implicit possible form of a sentence and has the
most minimal possible intrinsic structure. It consists of a useful beginning
in the understanding of sentential structure because it most clearly
demonstrates the importance of the background relationship to the definition
of a sentence. In this regard, a "Me!" in regard to some context
does not function as a normal me in any other sentence or alone as merely a
sign without a symbolic referent. To say "Hey!" to someone
necessitates a context in which its functional meaning can be interpreted.
Such one word sentences must be seen as contextually determined and context
bound. The frequency which we might use such single word utterances in the
course of conversation might, upon retrospection, defy our normal expectations
of intelligibility, though we may do so without any loss of import of
significance.
This is in marked contrast to a basic sentence form with
basic categories and basic constraints, such as "The cat sat on the
mat" which is held to be relatively context independent--it is a sentence
which effectively contains its own context, and does not present a problem of
implicit ambiguity. We may ask "what cat" or "where on the
mat" but this call for elaboration merely hedges the central significance
of the statement. Yet if we modify a single word, such as "this" or
"that", we bring into the sentence the problem of implicit context.
Implicitness is the measure of the contextuality of a linguistic
element--basicness is the measure of the codability of an element.
Contextuality and codability thus are seen in a converse relation--contextual
relations are less encoded, highly coded relations are less contextual.
One word sentences cannot be considered as the normal form
of a sentence, and thus represent a special case. The minimal structure for a
normal, prototypical sentence form is not one word but two--technically known
as a "subject" and "predicate" or as a "topic"
and "comment". Either of these sentential categories may be replaced
by a phrase, or a set of phrases, to yield highly complex sentence structures.
In one word exclamations, one or other of these is left implicit, though in
normal sentential construction this is not paradigmatically appropriate. The
more regular sentence structure is conventionally held to be subject, verb and
object--languages vary widely in this and the range of variations come to
encompass all possible permutations--SOV, VOS, SVO, OVS, OSV, and VSO. But
this analysis disregards the cases of objectless sentences and the relation of
the verb to the object as a part of the predicate. This has to do with
transitivity/intransitivity of a basic dimension of verbs.
In other words, key paradigmatic relation is between the
subject and the predicate--the definition of both subject and predicate are
secondary issues. The sentence structure may be considered prefix, infix or
suffix in relation to the placement of the subject in relation to the
predicate. This is important because it entails the order of modification of
sentential structure that can be taken, and because this specifies the subject
in relation to the relational predicate as explicit, whereas the modification
of individual linguistic elements, which may follow its own prefix, infix and
suffix notation, involves the relational modification of a "thing"
or "thingness."
The subject then takes on a special relational value, as
not the thing modified by a relation, but the thing that modifies the
relation. The role and function of the object as part of the construction of
the predicate is as a thing modified by the relation. What makes a sentence
distinct from any other linguistic element, is that modification includes a
subject-predicate relationship in which the subject, as a "thing"
modifies the relation, or an object of the relation.
It implies a certain informational value unlike that of
things being modified or acted upon--a sentence thus constitutes a relational
statement about the world, whatever its alleged truth value, which is a piece
of linguistic knowledge about the world--it achieves a function of explicit
symbolic relation and value. From the standpoint of human language, there is
something of critical importance about this structure of relation. The precise
order or nature of this relation may very with different language
systems--whether topic-comment or ergative-accusative or active-passive.
There is no "deep" or "universal"
structure underlying this basic order of sentence patterning. Whatever is the
predominant paradigm of the language will include some degree of implicit
embedding of its structure in the language code that will facilitate
recognition. "Transformation rules" are applied to the basic
paradigm of a language for three sets of purposes--to account for and generate
variable patterns of the sentence structure, to recognize and correct errors
in sentence structure, and to translate from one language code to another.
Transformation rules are largely implicit and remain embedded, though they
guide elaboration of sentences. We employ these rules as a matter of habit and
reflex, and these rules are therefore functionally encoded in our
performance--they are "performance rules" and as such remain
implicitly embedded in the construction of our sentences.
A paradigm of a language, in lieu of more definitive
scientific explanation, well simply be defined as the minimal, most basic
constraints which govern the formation of all sentences in a given language.
These include basic rules of sentence order, punctuation, modification and
marking of components. There appear to be few formalizable and universal
paradigmatic constraints underlying all languages. Different languages vary
considerably in their paradigmatic organization, and paradigmatic structure
remains implicitly embedded in the patterning language takes. When overlaid
and brought into constructive, conjunctive coordination with the basic and
implicit relational field, these rules become organizationally constitutive of
symbolic and relational meaning.
Transformation rules modify sentence structure in relation
to the basic paradigm that remains implicitly embedded. To understand the
relation of transformational rules to the basic paradigm of a language, we
need to understand the relation between the implicit and explicit values at
the level of the sentence, and how these are interconnected with implicitness
and explicitness at the level of the linguistic element. This is roughly the
difference between intrinsic implicitness/explicitness and extrinsic
implicitness/explicitness, that has previously been described. Intrinsic
implicitness/explicitness involves the relational and positional value of the
linguistic component within the framework of the sentence--it is different
from that extrinsic value derived as if the element stood alone, outside of
the sentence. Another way of looking at this is to say that the sentence
creates its own context of relations that critically intercedes with the
relational contexts of any of its elements. This is simply more than the
intersection of contextual relations of each of its elements. The intrinsic
contextuality of the sentence is based upon its fundamental relational
paradigm within any given language, and the embedded and elaborated
transformational rules which govern its production and articulation.
The basic paradigm remains largely implicit to the
intrinsic structure of a sentence, as do the implicit transformation
rules--what becomes explicitly encoded in a sentence construction is the
coherence of the meta-relation described by the unique conjunction of the
sentence components. In extrinsic structure, relations are implicit and
thingness is rendered explicit--in intrinsic structure, relation itself is
rendered explicit, and thingness is made implicit beneath the scope of the
explicit "meta-relation". Bringing diverse elements within the scope
of a sentence "meta-relation" precipitates out in increasingly
explicit ways what otherwise remains implicit to the elements themselves. The
conjunction of a sentence with each additional element creates diminishing
degrees of implicitness, and increasingly explicit specificity of the
"meta-relation".
Sentence construction accomplishes reduction of implicit
ambiguity about the meta-relation, and explicit expressiveness about this
relation at the same time. A sentence accomplishes a functional symbolic
relation that is the foundation of sentience.
The intrinsic positional and associational value of a
component within a sentence will determine which transformational rules will
apply, at both the sentence and the elemental levels. How a component of a
sentence shall be modified, and how the total structure of the sentence shall
be modified, will be governed within the control structure of the basic
paradigm of the language. This control structure governs the modification and
selection of elements in relation to one another in the construction of
sentences. Transformations are allowed within the latitude of the system, or
may violate the basic rules of the paradigm, as long as the violation is
marked by modification as such.
The sentence as a whole, self-contained unit, thus conveys
not only explicit information about the world, but implicit information about
its own structural patterning as well. A sentence becomes then, a complex
"element" of a language with its own extrinsic relational value. The
punctuation of a sentence, whether it is marked in writing by a period or a
question mark, or in speaking by a pause or a rising ultimate tone, bounds the
elements within that frame into a closed internal order in which the
relational values of each of the components begins to rapidly work upon one
another to produce some final composite, relational significance.
The elements bound within the scope of a sentence enter
into a complex dialectic of mutual constraint and inter-penetration of value.
It is a complex calculus, and as sentences are being produced, a dynamic
one--with each additional element contributing to the dialectical relations as
a "diminishing degree of freedom" in the final composition. We can
speak of a sentence as a complex composition containing a net, if not quite
discrete, relational value.
The paradigm of a language is founded upon the differential
requirements and coordination of the functions of speaking and hearing, or
writing and reading. Intrinsic structure is necessary for the purposes of
unencumbered and correct speech production that will maximize either
communication or expressiveness, or both, and minimize as much as possible
ambiguity. The listening to the speech of others entails the application of
embedded transformational rules that will automatically decode and simplify
the variability of sentences within the range of the paradigm. The productive
elaboration and play with words of one's own speech requires a kind of
internal "listening" or monitoring of one's own speech activities,
and a channeling of the stream of speech through the embedded transformational
rules.
We are left with a sense in which the dialectic between the
basic paradigm and embedded rules of transformation are mutually constraining,
in the control of sentence construction. This continuum is also neatly
bisected by an axis formed by the dialect between implicit and explicit
structure--or what might be better referred to as virtual and possible
structure versus actual and probable structure. All rules are implicit except
that their instantiation forces upon them a certain functional
"explicitness" which marks the "correctness" of the
construction.
A sentence is a complex and dynamic construction. It is
more than just a string of words or signals--the relational order of a
sentence becomes a functional formula about a relation in the world. It
becomes a proposition, a statement of value, whose primary significance points
beyond itself to the outside world.
*****
Human discourse is the fulcrum of human development
Sentences usually come embedded in a larger linguistic
context, a context that is usually marked by some form of social exchange.
This larger dialogical context comes to constrain and enters into the
relational dynamics of sentence construction. The relational values of
sentences are negotiated between speakers, and lead to the development or
modification of an implicit relational field. A sentence provides a window
between the internal relational topography of the speaker/listener, and the
outside world. It is a window through which order and transformation can go in
both directions. Feedback from another speaker/listener is critical in this
process of coordinate modification of a "dual-processing system".
Self-contained feedback is affected by a single speaker monitoring their own
speech. An internalized dialogue is affected which accomplishes the same
pragmatic functions as real social interchange. In this regard we can refer to
the "inner voice" of the mind which is an active, productive agent
of implicit speech. Unvoiced because unspoken, the voice of consciousness
becomes a virtual voice of active thought and imagination, as well as a
"vital voice" of the self. This voice enters into the complex
calculus of speech production, as do the voices of others. The
inter-sentential context of language is appropriately the level of pragmatic
functions of language--roughly put, the uses to which speakers may put their
words, either in their own heads, or in conjunction with the heads of others,
as well as in relation to behavior and social action. In this sense, nonverbal
communication and paralinguistic signals become the implicit constructions of
the pragmatic functions of a language in its social and psychological context.
The same linguistic functions which create and maintain a
social context of expression and communication, also create and maintain a
psychological context of sense of self, feeling and thought and
intentionality--linguistic process is implicated in all of these internalized
psychological processes.
The pragmatic function of language is to mediate between,
coordinate, and modify internalized, implicit relational field of the language
bearer, as a "cognitive map" of the world, and the external
relations of the world. This process is one of negotiation between internal
and external relational frameworks such that each attempts to control and
modify the other. This is what is referred to as the dialectical dynamics of
discourse. Language is inextricably implicated in the human experience of the
world--it imposes an intermediate filter which we selectively channel and
reduce the complexity of incoming signals to a meaningful, manageable
order--and allows us to flexibly modify our internalized frames to fit the
external realities. In other words, language as discourse representationally
modifies human experience.
It is easy to see how externalized social constructions can
so reinforce internalized conceptual frames of the world, and both can come to
acquire the status of "naturalness" though they remain artifices of
human production in the world. In a sense, this level of language process is
only possible in a human-made world--a cognitive map of a natural,
non-cultural world would be de facto and by default, a nonlinguistic one. It
is by such a means that people come to symbolically appropriate the signals of
their natural environments, and to animate these environments with a vitality
or spirit force which takes the force of a cultural construction of reality.
This is in part the consequence of the pragmatic function of human language in
the world.
We are left with a sense of a layering of language process
upon several levels. The semantics that govern the relational field that
remains mostly implicit, morphology and phonology govern the production of
basic linguistic elements, syntax governs the coordination of these elements
in sentence production, and pragmatics generally controls linguistic
discourse. These four levels of the functional signification of language
process can be seen as form a complex system of coordinate, dialectical
processing in the production of human language. We cannot clearly separate or
privilege these levels above one another without destroying the synthetic and
holistic integrity of linguistic process.
From this standpoint the holistic integrity of language as
a bounded, self-organized system, becomes important. The meanings produced
within such a system are virtually internal and enclosed within the holistic
integrity of the language as system. Within this holistic scope it makes sense
to refer to the functional and relational "structure" of language
within which the values of any element within the system are conditioned and
constrained by its functional and relational status within the total language
"field".
Any language, to the extent that it is holistically
integrated in the disambiguation of reality, has its own logic. The logic of
language is not formal, but informal, in the sense of being replete with all
the fallacies of logic that we are prone to. It is a symbolic and relational
and functional logic--it works in the world in which it is situated. Common
sense is embedded in this "natural logic" of language. The logic of
language is that it imposes its own validity of coherence and consistency upon
the world--it legitimates reality and therefore it is an
"ideological" logic, and from a structural standpoint--mythological.
This logic is structured by the linguistic disambiguation of contradiction
which is inherent in language and language change. The logic of language
resolves contradiction dialectically.
*****
We cannot consider a world without language, or a language
without a world.
The worldview problem has always been a central question in
anthropological linguistics, because its theory attempts to specify the nature
of the relationships between cognition, language and culture. There as been
great disagreement as to what role language actually plays in relation to
cognition and culture--the question seems to be a complex one which admits of
no simple, singly deterministic solution which strict science seems most
satisfied with. But there can be little doubt that whatever its finer points,
the role language in relation to both culture and cognition is a central and
critical one. It would be difficult if not impossible to imagine either
culture or cognition without human language, just as it would be equally
difficult to imagine human language without a cultural context or a cognitive
component. The problem of world view is centrally tied up to other important
questions, the problem of meaning and the nature of the relationship between
mind and brain, and more widely, mind and body, and the problem of the
relationship between nature and culture, or nature and nurture.
We can refer to the central, strategic 'triangulation'
function of language in the Worldview problem, serving to locate meaning
somewhere in the nexus between cognition, culture and language.
In regard to this problem area, the functional linguistic
theory elaborated thus far has made several significant contributions.
Language is a holistic and integrated system, one that is nevertheless open
and productive in relation to the world in which it is situated. Language
rests upon an implicit, preceptual and prelinguistic "passive recognition
system" of the human brain--the ordering and significant boundaries of
this system become, by processes of acquisition, determined by the biological
encoding of linguistic elements within the language field. The
"naming" function underlying language is paramount in the carving
out of the implicit relational field formed within the brain.
In human acquisition, such naming follows a regular
developmental progress, and has the effect of making explicit, for purposes of
externalization, significant relationships that would otherwise remain only
implicit and internal. "Rules" of linguistic structure and
transformation that govern the elaboration of language also become implicitly
embedded in the organizational patterning of the mind. These are functional
rules of performance--they are not "formalized" or learned in any
formal sense, but are self-organized and "worked out" in trial and
error during acquisition. The linguistic function of the brain itself is
specially adapted for the acquisition of such linguistic structure, and the
organization of brain function is inextricable from the linguistic
organization of human mind and intellect. These rules are most apparent upon
the sentence level of language production, and sentence construction provides
a basic mechanism for the externalization and modification of implicit and
internalized linguistic elements. Above the level of the sentence, we must
come to recognize that the social and constructionist dimensions of language
are also inextricable from language and its encoding in the mind. The
dialectics of discourse permit the coordination and modification of both
language and internalized cognitive structures that are dependent upon
language. Internalized linguistic structures map an external order, and the
external order mapped are externalized internal linguistic structures. The
feedback process that occurs at this level of language is what links language
to an outside world, and accounts for both the social construction of reality
as well as for the psychological construction of a sense of self.
The centrality of language in the worldview problem does
not entail a simple picture of linguistic determinism of either culture or
cognition. Language as a coherent, and imperfect system, exists within a
larger world--its internal functionality is in part conditioned by its
external functions built around human adaptation and the need for
communication of complex information. Its power is neither independent nor a
priori in this world. This is attested to by the fact that the functional
imposition of other cultures with other languages leads to a great deal of
exogenous cultural change. Language reinforces and serves to modify cultural
and cognitive reality--it underlies how we normally carve up our continuum of
experience as well as how we come to cultural relate with our world.
Languages, to the extent that they are internally integrated and holistic, are
relative beasts--but the holistic functions of linguistic integration of
reality are themselves tied to external adaptive functions in the world. We
must not mistakenly identify what amounts to the functional centrality of
language in our world or our worldview with the deterministic power of
language to control or change our world. Language may make some elaborate or
exotic forms of experience more available to us than others--it is a principle
means of making the strange familiar and the familiar strange.
Different language systems do carve up the continuum of
human experience differently than others, and do permit different ranges and
direction of possibility in the elaboration of world-view. But there also
seems to exist a very complicated, common substrate underlying our
consciousness which to some extent predetermines the implicitness and
basicness of all languages. All languages are relationally and functionally
united by basic design features that render its information processing
capacities equivalent in all languges. On the other hand, culture does have a
definite conditioning and determining influence upon both the organization of
mind and the organization of language. No human language can be conceived of
in a vacuum of the cultural construction of reality in which it plays a
central part, or in total social isolation, or outside of the history of its
own making.
In terms of the multiple levels of language function and
relation, there is a sense that the cognitive dimension of language has
greatest play upon the lower, more basic levels of language elements and
meaning, that language comes fully into its own upon the intermediate levels
in intrinsic sentential structure, and that cultural dimensions of language
become most important upon the discursive and pragmatic levels of language
function.
Change agents in the world who want to tap into the power
of language must pay heed to the inherent, anthropological limits of this
power--language is interdependent with culture and cognition in both the World
and in our View of the world. Together, language, culture and cognition form
an anthropological complex that is analytically inextricable in the
understanding of human reality. Simply changing how we speak about the world
will not, by itself, bring about major changes in how our world is ordered.
But it may alter how we think and come to act in relation with the world, and
by this, we may come to change the world as well.
******
Language was the mother of human evolution. It was the
grease on the gears of human development, the fuel on the fire of human
civilization and the glue in the human construction of reality.
Implied in the previous discussion of language in relation
to worldview, was the importance of acquisition processes in understanding
this role. Acquisition has also been previously implicated in the
constructionist dynamics of language change and linguistic process. The
embedding of linguistic value and structure is largely a function of
acquisition processes.
I will refer to general anthropological acquisition as
relating to all areas and phases of the processes of human development.
Linguistic acquisition is an inextricably part of cultural and cognitive
acquisition. The primary and secondary acquisition of a language is related to
the acquisition of culture, or enculturation, and socialization, as well as to
cognitive development. In the larger scheme of things, we can refer to
phylogenetic and evolutionary acquisition of language as being related to the
developmental acquisition of an individual.
In all cases in which the basic processes of linguistic
acquisition will be implicated, the component of linguistic acquisition will
be similar in process and function, except that the history and the context in
which acquisition is occurring will be different with each case. The processes
of primary and secondary acquisition are no different in their dynamics,
learning proceeding along the same basic lines in both cases, except that in
the former case the mind is mapping much more of the original language on to
the brain, while in the latter case the second language must be learned via
the application of explicit rules of translation until the second language can
becomes fully encoded into the mind of the foreign speaker. Similarly, the
acquisition of a culture of a different or new language proceeds along the
same lines as the individual acquisition of a language, because in this case
the culture is by definition a collection of individuals learning the same
language.
We can speculate also as to whether the first human
acquisition of language may not have evolutionary proceeded along the same
lines as that of child-acquisition, except that in the latter case it is a
blank-slate in a culturally constructed language environment, and in the
former case it was a matter of the brain reorganizing itself for purposes of
language and its acquisition within a context of a linguistic vacuum or
genuinely linguistic deficit.
In this sense, ontogeny may well recapitulate phylogeny
when it comes to the biological organization of the brain for language and to
the organic developmental processes underlying and based upon language
acquisition. This last case is perhaps the most anthropologically problematic
and interesting because it concerns the conjunction of some important lines of
inquiry. Another way of stating the matter may be that the kind of linguistic
mediation which involves the feedback relationship between the individual in
society, might be similarly related to the linguistic mediation which has been
evolutionarily involved in the feedback between "human nature" and
human culture. In this case the young child's grammatical errors, holophrasis,
and phonological fusion or mispronunciation of elements may have been
comparable to early human's first stages in language acquisition. We might
look to the kind of minimalist vocabulary and language structure of a 16 month
old child, or a 2-year-old, as perhaps comparable to the scale and level of
order of the first "proto-languages" which came to be spoken by
humankind. Whatever may be the case in this ultimately irresolvable issue, we
can be sure that the entire anthropological complex of acquisition was to a
great extent a cybernetic and self-organizing process.
From the standpoint of the child, we can see the
self-organization of the child's language as occurring in a complex
cultural-linguistic environment. But the child functions as a sort of
"implicit linguist" in this world--as a strange and silent alien who
must figure out from scratch the intricacies and complexities of their
language world. The child does this with an innate facility that escapes most
adult language learners, but the child makes many mistakes, playfully explores
and experiments with the linguistic environment with trial and error and with
an energy, an abandon and naive curiosity that eventually over comes all
obstacles and barriers in its paths, and quickly learns from the mistakes
made.
*****
A basic anthropological theory of language has been roughly
outlined in this set of essays. I have chosen to call it
functional-constructionist for several reasons. It has been based upon a
number of presuppositions and a number of lines of evidence in linguistic
research. One of its presuppositions if of the basic relational structure of
human language which predetermines its organization and underlies its
functionality in the world. An anthropology of human reality cannot ignore the
problem human language. Anthropologists have traditionally approached the
problem of language from a holistic and relativist standpoint, largely because
they have been confronted most directly with the problems of language
difference and of translation between languages, and because the problem of
language cannot be considered, from an anthropological standpoint at least, in
a kind of analytical vacuum from other important aspects of human
reality--most importantly the problems of cognition and culture.
The theory proffered within these essays sought to help
explain several important aspects of the anthropological problematic of
language--the problem of language change, of language function, of language
structure, of language in relation to the world-view problem, and of language
acquisition. Any anthropological theory of language, to be satisfactory, must
address at least this minimal set of basic questions. But any such theory must
also leave more questions unanswered than it has asked.
VIII
The Anthropology of Psychology
We find ourselves in the world, and make the world in
ourselves
An anthropology of psychological knowledge must begin and
end within a general theory of human meaning. An anthropology of language
leaves open the question of the human construction of meaning, as well as the
processes of internalization and externalization which imply a psychological
dimension of human linguisticality and experience.
Of course, an anthropology of psychology, rooted in the
dialectics of the worldview problem, extends beyond this question to encompass
a number of other problems such as collective representations, the
anthropological construction of the self, or sense of ego, the role of
symbolization, identification, folk psychology and attribution theory, human
belief, feeling and behavior, and the question of a cultural psychology and
the part played by psychological attitudes in cultural tradition and social
institutionalization. What is sought in this case is a central anthropological
theory of psychology that will somehow effectively take into account these
various problems of a cross-cultural psychology. Put somewhat more
systematically, an anthropological theory of psychology must take into
explicit account some or all of the following problems:
1. The problem of meaning.
2. The problem of the psychological construction of
reality.
3. The problem of attribution and attitudes.
4. The problem of identity.
5. The problem of the cultural psychology of human
relation and social process.
6. An anthropological psychology of human
"being".
7. The limits of psychological knowledge.
It is not too difficult to see how these general questions
may be interrelated and may form an outline of the theoretical problematic of
an anthropology of psychology.
*****
But for nonsense nothing would make sense. The ground of
meaning is the material of the mind, the software of the brain, and the
substance of thought, all rolled into one.
A theory of meaning is inherently psychological, though it
must entail linguistic and socio-cultural components as well. Such a theory of
meaning incorporates a number of other important psychological questions--the
role of worldview, of common sense, of intuition and imagination, of
perception, conception and emotion, the question of subjectiveness and human
experience, the problem of value and quality, the question of mind, knowledge,
and information, etc. If we take a cue from the previous essays concerning the
anthropology of language, we may say that meaning is similar to language in
being mostly functional and constructed and relational in structure. Moreover,
meaning presents itself in human reality as comprehensive and as holistically
integrated. In other words, a human meaning system is synthetic and can only
be understood from within its internal structure of signification. This argues
for a certain relativity and integration of meaning systems which is relative
to the observer's point of view. An analytical approach to meaning that takes
it out of its context must prove insufficient.
There is a sense that meaning lacks the purity or
perfection of form which characterizes mathematical knowledge which is known
by its intrinsic logical correctness and precision of form. Meaning is of the
phenomena of the world--rarely perfect or clear-cut in its patterning and
process. There is also, from an anthropological point of view, the viewpoint
that meaning has an inherently human quality about it. From this standpoint we
can argue that anthropologically, psychological meaning is inherently
"phenomenological process" and must be understood as such. The key
psychological dimensions of this phenomenological process are that it is
experienced holistically as if of a single, whole fabric; that it is
experienced presentationally, as "true to itself" and unmodified by
intermediate structures; that it is experienced as if immediate and proximate,
or local; that it is experienced subjectively, or what has become known as
emically; and that it is temporally experienced.
If and when meaning becomes representationally abstracted
from its primary presentational experience, its representation remains
phenomenologically experienced as such, but it becomes experienced as
non-phenomenological. Abstraction is the process of ideological
decontextualization of meaning by arbitrarily alienating meaning from its
phenomenological process. Abstract meaning is experienced as if disembodied,
as if objectively real or "etic", as if a temporal or static, and
therefore spatially real, as if remote, universal or general, alienated, as if
representational.
There is in this abstraction a fundamental sense of paradox
which accompanies its intrinsic meaning--for abstracted meaning is experienced
simultaneously as disembodied and as phenomenologically real, as
simultaneously immediate and universal.
In contradistinction to "abstraction of meaning"
we might refer to the reverse process of the phenomenological
"concretization" of meaning. Concretization involves the
refamiliarization of alienated meaning, the precipitation of experience in
phenomenological form.
It is difficult for us to imagine a world completely
without language. The closest we may come to this is to imagine the difficulty
of understanding an world of an alien culture in which, without access to the
meanings of its language, the depth of the culture is lost to us. Or we have
the familiar distinction between alphabetic and non-alphabetic cultures, and
between literate and oral culture, in which we can imagine the character of
experience in a world not as completely abstracted as our own. In this we can
see the importance of language in the abstraction of phenomenological
experience, and in its reconcretization as if experientially embodied.
The heart of meaning becomes then the paradoxical ambiguity
that is inherent in the linguisticality of experience--in the embedded
linguistic encoding of experience in the human being, in the mind, and even in
the brain. Such ambiguity and paradox comes from a sense of implicit
contradiction, or a sense of something meaning two exclusive things
simultaneously, each of which necessarily entails the negation of the other.
Another way of saying this, without language there would be
no sense of contradiction or ambiguity about our experience of the world, and
without contradiction or ambiguity, there would be no sense of the meaning of
experience as we know it.
Phenomenological experience is prelinguistic. The trouble
with human experience is that though we can have prelinguistic experience, we
cannot talk or think about it without language. As soon as we bring the
problem of language into our experience, we find that the basis of our meaning
becomes inherently paradoxical and ambiguous. Our ability and our need to
linguistically encode our "previously unapprehended" experience
entails that though we can know phenomenologically we cannot know that we
know, or "re-cognize" our cognition, or reflexively, apperceptively
and metalogically think about our knowing, without bringing our experience
within the purview of our language.
In a sense, a name is a word that contains its own negation
at the moment of its affirmation--it both is and is not what it represents.
We must see this as an inherent symbolic process, and as
part of the symbolic design of human language. Language permits symbolization.
Not all symbols have to be linguistically encoded, at least not in the form
that we are usually acquainted. A flag is an example of a symbol that, though
named, does not normally exist in the mind as such. The symbol exists
iconographically or ideographically as a complex emblem, but not
alphabetically in the way that we understand it.
This is to be contrasted with symbolic forms which do not
exist in reality except as a word--for instance God or "Culture" or
"Beauty"--these may connote many instances in the world which
exemplify their facets of significance, but nowhere can "Beauty" as
a whole thing apart be found.
We are led to a consideration of the way that experience
becomes linguistically encoded. Language at this levels serves as an indexical
"call" system by which we can "look up" meaning. This
demonstrates the arbitrariness of language, when we can consider that any word
can be attached to any set of significances, and this is the basis for so much
linguistic variability in the world, and presents a problem for translation,
because not all words of all languages call up the same set of significances.
It is what the language calls that becomes important
psychologically for a theory of meaning--we must contrast denotation of naming
with the connotation of the range of things named or left unnamed. What a word
calls are a set of conceptual and perceptual associations united by the
word--these associations, when united by the aegis of a word-name, are
"con-cepts" and exist as an abstract construction of diverse
elements of experience. This construction is emblematic and iconographic, but
depends upon the calling function of the word as name for its unity.
Underlying this conceptual construction are what might best
be described as "precepts" rather than as pure
"percepts"--they are more than presentational signals or senses in
the purely organic way, rather they are the rudimentary representations of
phenomenological experience, and constitute the bedrock of human experience.
They are in a sense the elements of a concept before the naming function calls
them. One aspect of this is that a name calls a concept that calls other
concepts by implicit naming. Another way of putting this is that a name calls
other names, but in the course of calling a concept the other names which
reference the components of the concept remain embedded implicitly in the
structure of the concept itself, as "signs" the linguistic function
of which remains suppressed and subordinate to the linguisticality of the
concept itself. Again, this recalls the design of duality inherent in naming.
The point made here is that phenomenological experience
must be recorded and neurally deposited in the brain in a prelinguistic
manner, one which, though entangled with linguistic naming, is nevertheless a
separate and internally coherent system of representation. These organized,
prelinguistic units of experience are what I shall call "memes" and
are what, under the scope of conceptual construction, are referred to as
basic, implicit precepts. We might call these genuine "percepts,"
except that they are somehow representationally deposited in the brain for
purposes of pattern recognition and memory organization. They constitute basic
phenomenological and schematic "frames" by which we
"chunk" experience before naming.
To a certain extent, these constitute basic categories of
"salience" to which prototypical naming seems coordinated. They are
signals that exist focally in our field of experience that direct our
attention, awareness and subsequent selection, rather than peripherally or
derivatively as aspects which tend to be ignored, or because of greater
intrinsic ambiguity in our perceptual field, prevent focusing. These are the
fuzzy boundaries of our prototypical categories of experience.
Cognitively, we might refer to these as
"gestalts", although gestalts may be more complex patterns of
experience made up of arranged memes. Memes become arranged into a relational
field in the mind that stands as a representation for the actual perceptual
field of experience. This relational field maps on to our perceptual field,
and by means of basic pattern recognition, creates a "slot and
filler" dialectic that directs our perceptual awareness, and our
learning, as we proceed to focus upon and fill in the anomalies of our field
of experience in such a way as to resolve the ambiguity which such anomalies
create.
The linguistic encoding of experience precipitates what
might be called as the acquired awareness of the world. What might be thought
of as the critical difference of awareness between merely looking at and
actually seeing some thing, or between hearing and "listening" to
something. The difference is between a sense of sentient involvement and
disengagement with something that captures our attention or fails to.
There is a sense that states of mind are run serially in
the mind much as a movie projector might run a series of slides to produce a
sense of animation. A successive series of states are transitionally ordered
with one another, and the fact of transition is somehow controlled. We can
speak of focal points of a picture as we scan the entire image to take in the
whole. Our continuous and recurrent scanning produces a detailed picture of
the entire image though we can only focus upon one set of details at a time.
The capacity of a specific momentary state of attention or mind might be
fundamentally constrained by the capacity of our short-term memory. It is as
if the mind can control simultaneously only a minimum number of basic
elements. The holistic integration of the mind that we like to think of as the
continuous stream of consciousness is in a sense a mental illusion, a trick
which the mind plays upon itself in the organization of experience, by which
it combines minimal constructs together into larger constructions of meaning.
It is important at this point to emphasize the temporality
of this primal form of meaning. Speaking about mapping and pattern recognition
tends to depict a scientifically appropriate "spatiality" of
meaning, which is contradictory to the fact that phenomenologically the
"field of perception" exists within a dynamic temporal continuum
characterized by the dialectics of change and stasis. Spatiality is exclusive
a function of our visual imagery which is but one dimension and component of
our experience. Experience exists synthetically as an incorporation of several
dimensions of perception, and more important--in embodied time or temporality.
The field of relations which coordinates with the continuum of perception is
an equally dynamic and temporally ordered continuum--it is not a static and
unchanging Cartesian space. This points up the important adaptive function
which the cognitive psychologist Jean Piaget referred to as assimilation and
accommodation. Organic mental illness affects just this basic function of the
brain to coordinate internal and external worlds.
More importantly, it affects how we think about
"memes" if we see them as perceptually multi-dimensional and as
existing dynamically in time as well as in space. They are synthetically
related--its relational field is multidimensional. More importantly, memes may
themselves, in their relational organization, be hierarchically arranged on
order of their basicness and their complexity. We can speculate upon
derivative constructions of memes that nevertheless remain prelinguistic, as
complex, polysynthetic constructs of "perceptual units of
experience". This is so because most of reality cannot be considered or
comprehended, as experience along an exclusive dimension of perception--as
pure sound or pure sight. We might consider the phenomena of a distant barking
dog or howling wolf, by which we can make a prelinguistic association if we
have actually witnessed a dog barking or a wolf howl. If we hear a wolf's howl
without previous association, it will be encountered as a strange and
anomalous sound in our range of experience. In other words, mimetic
associations and relations can be prelinguistically established and mentally
encoded, which defines categories and complex constructions of experience,
after which naming serves the function of eliciting. If names can elicit
experiences and complex associations, experiences and associations can also
elicit names.
"Memes" can be considered as the basic
"percepto-cognitive" constituents of meaning which are deposited in
the brain and depend to a large extent upon the functional organization of the
brain, and the cognitive organization of the mind. Memes, if these can be said
to exist, are the contents and substance of meaning that is stored in memory
and which is the "preprogrammed" material underlying the mind. They
are built up emblematically in relational constructs that form a discontinuous
field of experience.
The emblematic construction of mimetic precepts may itself
follow basic innate organization of the brain. We can speculate upon certain
"universal constituents of meaning" or "archetypes" which
are fundamental in the mimetic, prelinguistic organization of the mind.
Children have an innate fascination with round, spheroid objects. Roundness
may be a basic "cognate" underlying human experience.
We might speculate that other such universal
"cognates" may include an "edge", a "point", an
"angle," and some basic, rudimentary sense of numerical relation or
unitary identity and difference, upon which the cognitive mechanics of
counting and the later skills of mathematics and logic are based. Not to
privilege vision in this regard, we must speculate upon certain aural cognates
as well, which we might include as tone, pause, tempo, beat, rhythm. We are
left with an attempt to link mimetic precepts, cognates and basic perceptual
categories as possible first relational sets or associations of experience. We
can think in this regard of basic contrasts of taste like sweet and sour,
saltish and bland, spicy and bland that correspond with basic taste buds. We
are also biologically programmed for the perception of certain wavelengths and
ranges of the electromagnetic continuum, as well as for motion. We feel hot
and cold, blunt and sharp, etc. At this point we are at the levels of the
perceptual substrate of meaning itself.
The mimetic relational field constitutes then an
organizationally separate system of meaning that is deposited in the brain and
underlies the mind. Developmentally, it comes into conjunction and
interdependency with a conceptual linguistic system which overlays and comes
to interpret the relational field. The two systems of the mind cannot be
clearly separated, and constitute a "dual processing system" which
is itself hierarchically ordered and dialectically self-organizing and
dynamic.
If developmentally the mimetic system comes to depend upon
the linguistic system for its sophistication and abstraction, it is also the
case that the entire linguistic system of the mind also depends upon the
mimetic system in certain fundamental ways in terms of its own nomic
organization and function. Concepts dependent upon the naming function of
language are themselves relationally arranged in a vast interconnected network
of perceptual-conceptual elements. Names call other names, and other
associations, at the same time that they call up the preceptual memes that
these names are linked to.
The mimetic relational system underlies the relational
system of the basic level of language.
The mimetic system controls memory and memory organization.
The structure of memory must tell us something about the organization of the
mimetic system. We have short-term, working and long-term memory. In this we
recognize basic structural limits in the relational system. The natural
sentence or phrase is seven to eleven syllables in length, corresponding with
the normal range of short-term memory. Working memory constitutes that nexus
of associations that surround and occupy immediate attention. They are the
elements most available to immediate preconsiousness, without entailing the
complex "recall" system of retrieving associations from the
"long term memory". The capacity and seize of this intermediate
memory organization is important and may be complex--itself composed of
discrete levels of memory function and organization.
It is worthwhile speculating whether or not the mind, and
the brain, is not organized into several integrated "systems" which
function in a coordinate, parallel programming matter. We have identified a
linguistic and a mimetic system. In this regard we can consider a
"perceptual system" which processes primary perceptual information.
We can speculate that the brain also has a voluntary system and an involuntary
system that controls vital bodily functions. We can speculate as well that the
brain has an important "shut-down" system that controls sleep and
dreaming. There is also a "stress system" which controls the
response to threatening situations, "motivational" control and
"aggression" and sexuality. We might also speculate upon a basic
"reflex system" which controls the automatic response to basic
stimuli, and which is subject to conditioning and habituation.
From a psychological and anthropological standpoint, two
such systems that seem of exceptional importance are the interrelated systems
of consciousness or of cognitive awareness, and a system of valuation. These
systems may be separate, but are interdependent and coordinate in the same way
that language and mimesis are. What can we say about them. There is an
intrinsic design to human awareness and subconscious which is important in the
consideration of these systems. First, these systems are symbolic. Until
known, symbolic anthropologists have been left out of research upon the mind,
though it is common understanding that humans are by definition symbolic
creatures, and that symbolization must somehow underlie and be intrinsic to
the human mind. We can understand the structure of human symbolization in
terms of the interrelationship between the mimetic and the linguistic system.
But we to understand its function within the brain, we need to consider the
dynamics of the symbolic translation of experience, the organization of
consciousness. At this point we consider the interrelationship between
consciousness and rationality and normative decision-making, or judgement. We
must speculate whether these might be separate but interdependent systems of
the brain, or else a single system which overlays and coordinates the others.
It seems that they may be two systems that combine to
create a single overarching system. The two subsystems constitute respectively
what might be referred to as the system of consciousness and the subconscious
system. The function of the former system is to bring into coordination the
mimetic, the perceptual and linguistic systems to create cognitive thought,
self-awareness. This level is experienced phenomenologically as multiple
"profiles" or facets of synthetic awareness which constitute the
basis of imagination. Not only are relations encoded and deposited in the
brain which govern the organization of basic elements of meaning and their
articulation, but rules that govern these relations are also deposited as
well. We can entertain and explore a range of alternative profiles of
consciousness in order to bring our awareness into coordination with our
actual flow of experience. We might refer to this system as
"mentality". The other subsystem consists of the subconscious
coordination of the various processes, including motivational control, and
controls the emotional basis of human feeling and mood. This system brings
mind and body into coordination, and also performs a function of the affective
encoding of the evaluative strength of experiences. Not only is information
encoded in terms of the perceptual-preceptual associations, but also in terms
of the affective associations of the moods, motivations and bodily reactions
that such relations stimulate. Information about these stimuli, their
strength, direction, modality, must somehow be encoded in the brain and the
mind.
Given the apparent order and interdependencies of these
several systems of the mind, we can speculate that they are combined,
especially via the two previously described systems, to create what we might
refer to as psychologically a sense of "self" or of
"self-being" and anthropologically as "ego-identity". The
psychological self is not just a synthetic unity of the separate systems, but
constitutes itself a separate and synergistic system of its own, and forms the
basis of what we refer to as "mind". From this standpoint we can
consider what might be the design structure of "gestalts" as the
underlying relational patterns of order of "mind." Gestalts must be
seen as certain discrete, subjectively constituted "states of mind."
This overarching system can be considered as a "blackboard" in which
different subsystems are brought into asynchronous coordination in the
mediation of the ongoing flow of experience. The consciousness and
unconsciousness struggle for control over the mind, and the mind itself works
within its own constraints to yield and resume control over its subsystems.
The gestalts of the mind entail a complex encoding of a
composite system of conscious, symbolic construction that combines relational
elements, rules of relation, and values of relation into a complex, dynamic
order. The system may be rationally constrained to function in terms of some
logic, but it may also be mythologically ordered as well. In whatever
modality, it functions to create complex symbolic judgements about experience,
which may include rational and normative evaluations. A gestalt then is a
complex, composite filter that mediates and modulates the experience and
reactions to experience. The system of mind performs as a kind of general
purpose control system that governs other expert systems. Its design is made
up of elements and relations, values of association, and rules of relation.
Furthermore, these gestalts are deposited implicitly and functionally in the
brain, and no where are formally ordered, except in that formal training may
reinforce such functional deposition.
It is worthwhile to speculate how the brain actually
functions to produce such a sophisticated and sentient system of mind. On one
hand we have evidence of certain aphasias that some discrete functions are
specifically located, such that damage to these locations results in
irreparable and irreversible loss of that function. On the other hand certain
forms of information appear to be distributed in parallel manner throughout
the mind, such that damage to only one region might result in only a minor
loss of resolution or impairment in the overall capability to process
information. The system can also continue to function as a whole if separate
locations of the system are damaged and specific functions lost.
The mind appears to be a functional hierarchy of systems
embedded within other systems, and brought into coordination with one another
at several levels. The system is relationally complex and adaptive in that its
self-organization is not simply a matter of structural complexity, but of
coordinate inter-functioning in which each system, and subsystem, is not only
separate, but tied to many other systems and subsystems throughout the entire
structure. The system as a whole can withstand considerable local loss and
damage, and generalized impairment, without the entire system breaking down in
the way that the loss of a distributor cap or points, or of a lead wire, might
prevent a car from running. On the other hand it is simply not a anti-chaotic
system critical self-organization--though it contains this structure, an event
in one part of the mind simply does not generate a random chain reaction
throughout the system.
A theory of meaning must encompass and account for the
complexity of human meaning--it is the result of many different processes of
the mind and the brain, as well as for its "basicness" in the mind.
From the standpoint of an extraordinarily complex mind, meaning is deposited
in continuous complexes which may be called "gestalts" or
"mental states," and contain basic constructs or components that
consist mimetic elements, rules and values which constitute, in the brain,
"memes"--the basic elements of meaning.
Conscious focus and attention, however motivated or
directed, may consist of a series of discrete mental states that become
serially superimposed one after another in some fashion. This occurs rapidly
enough to create the illusion of a "stream" or "continuity of
consciousness" much like the movement of frames of film produces the
illusion of animation. Thus our consciousness becomes animated because the
discrete focal states of mind become fused in the rapid tempo of their
succession. It appears that short term memory and working memory have a
function integrating these short bits of focal states of attention and
awareness to create larger relational episodes of experience, or experiential
"events." In this way the ongoing phenomenology of experience
becomes enmeshed within an internal web of associations and meanings to foster
a sense of overall continuity of reality.
Memes therefore encode three kinds of coordinate
information, relational "thingness", relational rules, and
relational values. Each is a separate sign/signal that performs a distinct
function in the integration of experience, in two forms, at the complex level
of the systemic mind, and at the basic level of the neuronal and biochemical
organization of the brain. These memes constitute basic symbols, as well as
the basic components of more complex symbols.
We must ask how a neuron, or a group of interrelated
neurons, may encode relational "thingness," rules and values at the
same time. If we can understand this, we can understand the control structure
of human meaning. We must speculate whether the neuron itself is a complex
kind of symbolic device that somehow builds meaning from its signals.
Thingness can be considered the stimulus and direction of the signal, as well
as its discreteness. Rules of relation can be considered the switch work and
"circuitry" which returns some response to the signal. Values can be
the thresholds and the triggers that control the switching operation. In this
regard, we can consider that the neuron is capable of recognizing and
responding to a certain range of discrete types of signals from various
sources, relying discrete types of signals in specific directions. From this
standpoint, the signals received and transmitted may not only be
bio-chemically complex and distinguishable, but also of certain
"frequencies" and intensities. The neuron itself may be a kind of
complex dual processing mechanism that accomplishes a basic symbolic function
of displacement and stimulus generalization.
The entire organization and systemic hierarchy of the brain
and mind are based upon this principle relational and mimetic organization of
the neuron. More complex systems within the mind represent the specialization
of the generalized brain function for the purposes of discrete functions. But
the entire system itself comes to reflect at each level the basic ordering and
design of its most fundamental elements, and each of its most basic
components, in sense, contains information about the entire order of the
system. In other words, each element knows its own position and the
positioning of many other elements within the system.
We must consider mind and meaning, or what we might call
the basic sentience and sensitivity of knowing, as being intrinsic to the
biology of mind itself. In this sense we must not be too premature in
dismissing the sentience of a lizard, that, though instinctually order, knows
to move from the hot rock to the cool shadow to adjust its body temperature,
or the basic symbolic understanding of a dog in its relationship with its
master or a chimpanzee that struggles to learn a human system of signaling.
We, as "wise" human beings, do not control an exclusive monopoly on
symbolic meaning or sentience in nature. Symbolic meaning is the very texture
of our experience and our being.
Learning must be seen as a basic compensatory function of
this system of meaning that affects and seeks to maintain a dynamic
equilibrium among its coordinate structures. Learning itself can be seen to be
complex and to take place upon many different levels simultaneously. The
neuron itself can be found to learn, and to adjust its own signals in relation
to the whole.
We may put the matter in a different, summary form. Meaning
is the product of complex adaptive systems of dual processing--it is the
intrinsic patterned epiphenomena of such processes. Meaning is intrinsic, not
only to the basic complexity of human reality, but of all of biological
nature. Humans share in this with all other life forms, albeit in an
especially sophisticated manner. We must speak of a stochastic unity of mind
and nature. Intrinsic to the meaning of complexity is the function of
learning--all complex systems are, by definition, learning systems which
acquire an ability to independently modify their relationship with their
changing environment, in order to maintain an internally functional, dynamic
equilibrium. In this sense, given the basis of meaning in our nature, the
evolution of mind as we know it was probably an inevitable eventuality.
All such complex systems acquire over time a certain level
of expertise within a given context. Humans by nature learn to become experts
within a given context in a very individual and characteristically human way.
Such systems entail a complex encoding of information, implicit rules and
values that guide adaptive functioning in specialized niches. Ant colonies can
also said to develop a kind of local expertise in relation to its environment,
a form of expertise which may be constrained in certain biological ways,
nevertheless, a certain kind of embedded "wisdom" about its
environment. The specialized adaptations of an ant colony within its
environment sets up internalized selective pressures which may drive that
group to genetic speciation based upon the biological programming of its
expertise. Human mind evolved as the result of internal selection pressures
created by the acquired expertise to a given environmental regime of its
remote past. When we refer to ourselves as "wise" human beings, we
must remember well where our wisdom came from.
We can speculate that the basic systemic and neuronal
organization of the brain in which mind is implicit and potential is
genetically encoded. We can speculate further that internal selective forces
drove for a kind of ontogenetic development which favored cultural
acquisition--which in other words favored the delayed development of the brain
until well after birth for the acquisition processes to have fullest effect in
the realization of the mind. Selective forces favored a developmental
dependency of the brain and the mind upon the acquisition process. It meant
that such development, from a genetic standpoint, therefore became
underdetermined.
On the other hand, certain biologically based structures of
mind may have become genetically encoded, the hypothesized universal
"cognates" of experience, for instance, as well as a developmental
bio-program for the ordering of acquisition itself and for the developmental
specialization of brain functions.
*****
We make ourselves in the world at the very moment that we
make the world in ourselves.
We can properly speak of a phase of the anthropological
construction of reality in terms of its psychological dimension, or what might
be called the "psychological construction of reality"--namely the
way external socio-cultural schemata and structures become psychologically
internalized, and the way internal psychological structures become
externalized in the world. The central role of language in this mediation has
already been emphasized. In the manner that words deposit conceptual
constructions in the mind to render the abstract real, or to concretize and
reify phenomenological process, and also in the way that words precipitate in
the world the objectification and legitimation of meanings otherwise internal
in experience. But language, though central, is not the exclusive mediator of
this process of psychological construction. It is said that "actions
speak louder than words," and sometimes silent inaction speaks the
loudest of all. The realm of paralinguistics covers those forms of
communication that do not involve the explicit encoding of language. We must
see these forms of human communication and intermediation with reality as not
simply "outside of language" but also as "meta-linguistic"
in being both beyond language and about language as well.
To a certain extent, we can speak of the process of
psychological construction as the disembodiment of experience, and the
embodiment of the world--those symbolic mechanisms that opened the door
between external and internal realities allowed the flow of change to travel
both ways. It established a bridge between those two worlds that assured that
from henceforth the human relationship with its world would never be, from a
behavioral point of view, static. The individual, in her/his subjective
identity, becomes caught in a dialectic between inner meanings and external
references.
The psychological construction of reality is intrinsic to
the anthropological process of the acquisition of culture. This process
involves the internalization as if a part of the subjective nature of the
individual, those artifacts of the culturally constructed world, and the
subjective "identification" of those extrinsic elements as if they
were a vital extension of one's subjective identity.
When we understand the psychological organization of the
human being in terms of the hierarchy of the mind, we can see that this
process of the psychological construction of reality takes place upon all
levels of subjective experience. It thus presents itself with a holistic
integrity about it, and a complexity, which from an analytical approach is not
readily penetrable. This holistic integrity of our psychological construction
of reality is experienced as the somewhat paradoxical completeness of our
subjective experience, one that, in its healthier forms, entails a vital
coordination of mental state such that feelings seem, at least, in congruence
with thoughts and beliefs.
This sense of completeness may be more fictive than real,
however, and it may always be ultimately elusive and we may always seem to be
in pursuit of it. Another way of putting this is to claim that the
internalized codifications of reality, the relational field which is in the
mind, is a "mapping" of the external realities presented to the
phenomenological experience of the individual.
The functional principle of psychological process is an
adaptive one that maintains a dynamic equilibrium, or sense of balance,
between inner relations of meaning and external realities. In this regard we
speak of the psychological mechanisms accommodation and adjustment--the
attempt to modify internal structures to fit external forms, and the attempt
to adjust external forms to fit internalized structures. It can be posited
that the sense of self is directly tied to this adaptive function of
psychological process. There exist certain thresholds for psychological
process, both for changing the external world, and also for maintaining
resistance to or for overcoming psychological resistance to internalized
changes. These thresholds stipulate that for whatever form of psychological
interest or involvement, there will be a certain minimal investment of
psychological energy and motivation.
We must also understand these processes of the
psychological construction of reality to be an extension into the world of the
symbolic nature of human meaning and intrinsic systems of symbolization. Human
psychology is by definition symbolic psychology, and human experience of the
world and action in the world is always symbolically mediated and becomes
expressed through symbolic action. Because of the inherent symbolic nature of
human psychological processes, human subjectivity is always characterized by a
sense of indirect displacement of meaning, a sense of the intrinsic alienation
of the relation between the sign as symbol and the thing signified, and a
resulting sense of psychological ambivalence and "antinomiality"
that is a result of this continuous displacement of significance. There is a
sense that if every thing is experienced from a subjective psychological
standpoint as phenomenologically symbolic, then there is nothing within our
experience that is of a non-symbolic or absolute character. Everything points
to something else, and thus forms a continuous relational field in which our
externalized embodiments and our internalized embodiments are experienced as
psychologically, subjectively relative. Thus, via symbolization which requires
always an external, material reference, we are able to "project"
onto the external world those relational fields and frames which we have
previously internalized, such that the external world becomes a psychological
extension of our own inner world. Symbolization allows us to objectify
feelings and states which otherwise would remain purely subjective.
It is not too difficult to see how language is at the
center of this process of psychological symbolization. Language, and its
related facility of tool constructing, both require an externalized form in
the world by which meaning is concretized and rendered real and communicable.
The forms of language that are deposited within the mind are a reflection of
those externalized forms in which language is deposited. In this sense the
mind mirrors reality as much linguistically and symbolically as it does
perceptually.
At this point we must understand the problematic of
worldview, ideology, common sense, and the role of mythological thought in
symbolization. The function of symbolization has been regarded as a secondary
institution to legitimate the primary externalization of human cultural
construction. Mythology has been held as the most basic and undifferentiated
form of this kind of legitimating function. but we must also recognize, from a
psychological standpoint, other possibilities in the function of symbolization
and mythology. Symbolization is also the primary process in the psychological
externalization of subjective reality, and a principle means of legitimating
in externalized form, internalized states of being. Mythological process
serves not only in the legitimization of traditions and social institutional
processes, but also, and perhaps more directly, in the mediation of personal
experience, especially in the resolution of contradiction, the overcoming of
conflict and the "collectivizations" of marginal or relativizing
episodes.
Mythology must be construed as the basic relational logic
of symbolization, or what might be referred to as the structure of
"symbology." This structure is inherently subjective and
psychological in character, and is inherent in the relational structure of
meaning itself. It provides a psychologically sufficient mechanism for the
overcoming of contradictions, for the mediation of dialectic, or what might be
called the "identification of difference." It accomplishes this feat
by what might be called symbolic reversal. Symbolic reversal accomplishes
symbolically between contrasting sets of relational significances the
psychological equivalent of displacement and identification, by means of
psychological identification with the contrasting sets of elements. In
symbolic reversal, the normal relations are converted, or turned upside down.
The entire process of the anthropological construction of reality that
involves the dialectical mediation between mind and body, and between culture
and nature, becomes inverted by means of symbolic reversal, such that things
that have a cultural and human-made origin become construed as natural, and
things of nature becomes construed as the embodiment of culture. It effects
the processes of what might be called the culturation of nature and the
naturalization of culture, or what has been referred to as the fallacy of
misplaced concretization, reification, overemphasis and anthropomorphizing.
The psychological appeal of mythology is symbolic and in a
sense "metalogical"--it is not rational in the strict sense of the
term, but exists in the temporary psychological suspension of logic and the
credibility of our reason. It is a "sense-making" mechanism for the
mediation of conflict and things that are ambivalent, which functions by means
of the suspension of normal apparatus for making sense of a sensible world.
Via symbolization and mythologization of reality, we can transform reality
into supernormal states which nevertheless retain the appearance of normalcy.
Worldview must be seen to arise in the holistic integrity
of the subjectiveness of our symbolic world, from its sense as universal and
relationally complete. Our symbolic world is a world without holes or seams.
Worldview represents the composite body of knowledge and subjective
understandings that are the product of our internalized experiences of the
world. It is a psychological phenomenon, because it is not the world itself,
but our view of the world as this is psychologically and symbolically
mediated. Worldview has the virtue then of appearing all encompassing and
comprehensive. Most people entertain a worldview that is mostly implicit and
partial and incomplete. Because it remains mostly implicit, we are usually not
aware of the contradictions of the hidden presuppositions upon which it is
based. And, for most of us, it is per force a worldview that we share with
many others. It exists in the social world as a common framework for the
interpretation of experience. We must see then that world view is as much
reinforced by and legitimated by a predominant world order as it reinforces
and legitimates this order. More appropriately, we may say that it
accomplishes symbolically the task of situating the subjective life of the
individual, or the psychological self, within the widest possible sphere of
external relations, and also, at the same time, of situating this wider sphere
of external relations in terms of the subjective, biographical experience of
the individual. Worldview functions at the level of the total self and the
total world--circumscribing and encompassing everything that comes within the
purview of experience. But it nevertheless remains a psychologically rooted
phenomenon of the construction of reality.
Ideology is often taken as a synonym for worldview, and
worldview must be regarded as a necessary foundation for Ideology--all
Ideology is rooted in one form of worldview or another, and entails implicitly
such a worldview. But Ideology has a more specific form in that it is
necessarily also an explicit, versus implicit, system of symbolization,
beliefs, values and knowledge, that becomes to some extent institutionally
embedded in social and cultural processes. Unlike worldview, ideology often
entails a specific program or doctrine of practice for the realization of its
professed aims and goals in the world. It is explicitly a strategy of the
psychological construction of reality, and its function is more explicitly
that of legitimization than is that of Worldview.
There is a necessary relation between ideology and history,
because ideological belief and consensus, as an explicit system of
symbolization, requires at some point closure from the external world. An
ideological system is perforce a closed system in which specific or
generalized psychological constructions of knowledge are intentionally made
the basis for the externalizations and objectification of reality. As a
necessarily closed system of symbolization, the internal point of view within
an ideological sphere presents a view of the world in which contradiction is
either suppressed or ostracized. The insider's view of the world is one of its
own moral superiority and correctness, and of cognitive rationality or
"truth", no matter that at some point such an attitude required a
certain "blind leap of faith" in order to affect the necessarily
closure to the system. Contradiction and difference is denied, and is
considered to exist "outside" of the system that is regarded as
perfect. It should be apparent that ideology depends for its efficacy and
closure upon the fallacy of rationalization and reification of reality--the
mythological transformation of human-made elements as if natural. There is a
sense that what ideological systems attempt to do is to keep out and control
history, in as much as by history we mean the processes of change and
contemporaneousness which influence our world. Symbolically, ideology attempts
to stand beyond the bounds and laws of history, and thus are bound to failure
as they become undermined by history.
Common sense is another form of symbolization of the
psychological construction of reality. It can be regarded as a mostly implicit
system of symbolic reference and inference by which we make sense of our
normal, everyday realities. Our everyday worlds become imbued with a certain
facticity and efficacy which we tend to implicitly draw upon in our attitudes
and interactions within a larger world. Common sense must be regarded as based
upon an unsophisticated form of rationalization and simplification of our
experiences. It is thus tied to the rhetorical and persuasive power of our
language, especially our everyday language, to embody and symbolically
legitimate our psychological experience of the world. Common sense derives its
efficacy and legitimacy from the efficacy of the situated expertise of our
local knowledge and adaptation.
There has been some debate over the commonness of common
sense, or whether it may actually be a cultural construction very relative to
the context of its construction. Common sense everywhere shares similar
properties as psychological processes of symbolization derived from the
pragmatic efficacy of phenomenological experience. But it must also be equally
contradictory in what common sense makes sense of and how. One person's common
sense may as well be another's nonsense. From this regard we must consider the
relationship between a psychologically based collective consensus of belief or
attitude or rationale, and the commonness of common sense.
The indirect constraints of conformity to the norm, and the
psychological sphere of group consensus, can have an overwhelming effect in
making seem subjectively real and objectively legitimate aspects of reality
which are in fact psychological constructions. Psychological resistance to
such pressures towards conformity are difficult if no alternative points of
view are available or socially tolerated, and if the only alternative to
conformity is one of isolation, marginalization, ostracism or nihilation.
There is a great deal of common sense in the attitude that "you can't
fight city hall" and "its done this way, because it's always been
done this way." One dimension about all common sense that deserves some
attention is its implicit closed mindedness and its failure to bring into
explicit question the implicit presuppositions in which its inferences and
references to the world are rooted.
Common sense continues to make sense of our world as long
as we continue to cover over and leave unquestioned the values, standards, and
beliefs in which it is based. In a sense, what is anathema to the received
view of common sense is a critical attitude which doubts and questions
everything, especially that which seems the most normal and unquestionable, as
but psychological constructions of reality. In a sense, common sense then can
be seen as a denial of the psychological construction of the reality upon
which it is based, of the symbolic antinomality of psychological experience,
and thus a naive and blind faith in the objectiveness of our psychologically
rooted objectifications of reality.
From the standpoint of the psychological construction of
reality, worldview, common sense, ideology and mythology can all be construed
as normally conjunctive and coordinate in their legitimating and objectifying
function in the mediation of experience. They all function in different ways
upon different facets of reality, to accomplish the same psychological
functions. All are rooted, as systems of symbolization, in the linguisticality
of human experience. Each form reinforces the other in maintaining a sense of
the symbolic and psychological integration of reality. Another way of putting
the functions of these systems of symbolization is to see that they are all
rooted in a human need to symbolically obfuscate and block out the threatening
sense of discrepancy and antinomality that is inherent to our
symbolization--to make seem symbolically complete those subjective realities
that would otherwise seem symbolically incomplete.
Religion can be seen as a special form of symbol system
which combines all of the other forms in some formalized way as to produce a
functional institutionalization of the processes of symbolization in reality.
We may have mythology or worldview or ideology without the additional aspect
of these being necessarily religious, but we cannot think of a religion which
does not incorporate some or all of these other systems of symbolization.
Religion functions to combine and coordinate these other symbol systems in
such a way as to render their differences non-discrepant and non-contradictory
with one another. Religion also necessarily marks the boundary between the
sacred and the profane, and if not a clear boundary, then it defines the
nature of the relationship of the supernatural to the everyday normal
realities. Religion also necessarily has a social psychological function of
marking the moral and normative boundaries of normal life--it serves the
function of maintaining the individual psychologically and sociologically in
relation to the group and its ethos and nomos of order and propriety.
We must construe religion as a special example of such
systems of symbolization in the psychological construction of reality, because
religious systems become inextricably bound up in the legitimization and
institutionalization of traditional symbolism. Religions mark the boundaries
of normal psychological existence, and mediate the experience of abnormal or
marginalizing psychological states. They do so by conferring upon certain,
explicit, formal systems of belief a status of sacredness and inviolability--a
status that can be and must be accepted on the authority of blind faith alone.
*****
There is a critical difference between the psychological
self and the psychology of the self.
So far, the psychological construction of reality has
considered some of the ways in which the self constitutes its self and becomes
symbolically constituted in the world. We have now come to the point of
needing to consider the construction of psychology in the world, as a sort of
complementary consequence of the psychological construction of the self. We
switch from the subjective basis of psychological knowledge, to the
objectivity of psychological knowledge. From this standpoint, we must consider
the construction of psychology as being situated external in a common world of
shared knowledge and feeling.
The most basic form of this kind of externalized
construction of psychology takes the form of "folk psychologies" or
folk theories of human attribution, ascription and attitudes. We must consider
attitudes in this special case as those states of mind that exist as the
product of the internalization of objectified psychological constructions in
the social world. Attribution theory concerns theories of reference,
transference, and projection of attitudes upon the self or upon the subjective
experiences of others in the world. We commonly attribute psychological needs,
motivations, designs and dilemmas to others state's of mind based upon our
assessment of their behavior, speech, interactions, moods, and upon our own
psychological preunderstandings and prejudices.
Psychological knowledge, in the form of theories of
attribution and attitudes;, becomes part of the common stock of knowledge, and
to a great extent allows us to coordinate our own psychological view of the
world with others. We can refer to a "psychological world view" as a
comprehensive relational framework of understanding and knowledge about the
nature and role of subjective experience and psychological knowledge in the
world. We commonly rely upon such a worldview to draw inferences and form
opinions about the subjective constitution of both others and ourselves. It is
important to realize that all cultures have maintained some form of
psychological worldview regarding human nature in general and the character of
individual personalities, whether we have dubbed and constrained our
psychological theories as "scientific" or "humanistic".
There are several important dimensions of this type of
theorization. First, it becomes critically implicated in the legitimization
and articulation of social power and policies towards individuals and groups.
Psychological knowledge is inextricably tied to the problems of social control
of the individual. It becomes enmeshed in patterns of prejudice and in the
kind of informal and indirect means of information control. It forms the basis
for the labeling of individuals and the construction of social categories.
Secondly, this kind of psychological theory becomes profoundly implicated in
inter-group relations and interactions, in terms of group-references and
stereotypical labels and constructions of the "psyche" or
"Spirit" of a people. This kind of theorization reached its grandest
scientific proportions in the "national character" studies
instituted during World War II.
We can see that this kind of power is intrinsic to status
ascription and labeling which accompanies the linguistic interpretation of
psychological states. We cannot clearly separate psychology as a subjective
phenomena of the individual, from psychology as knowledge and theory about
such phenomena. These two sides of the same coin enter into a dialectic in the
psychological construction of reality and become mutually reinforcing.
In this we must understand the involvement of certain
social-psychological mechanisms which concern the role of social
identification, internalization of social constraints and values, the
psychological experimentation with aggression and feelings of hate, the
psychological inculcation of authoritarianism, and the psychological need for
projection. A mechanism of social boundary identification entails projection
onto out groups of those elements of human nature that must be repressed
internally within a society in order to maintain conformity and a social
hierarchy. This social boundary identification becomes incorporated in the
psychological boundary identity of the individual within society, in terms of
that individual's status-role identity. It entails some degree of
internalization of those values and norms of the society, and thus a
dichotomization of the self in terms of a fore-grounded positive public self
and a background, repressed "weak" self. The repressed side of the
self must find some form or another of expression, and thus tends to realize
itself internally in a society in forms of perversion or deviance, and
externally in projection upon out-groups of the same negative characteristics
of personality. The external boundaries that a society maintains as to what a
perfect person is supposed to be like, in terms of propriety and
appropriateness of attitude and feeling, become internalized in the individual
in terms of social psychological boundaries between the self and other.
We can properly speak of a cultural conjunction between a
psychology of power and a power of psychology, when we wish to understand the
political motivations and dynamics that characterize a given cultural
orientation. We can see then that the psychological construction of reality
extends beyond the purview of the individual personality and individual
subjectivity, to encompass the subjectivity and power of an entire cultural
patterning. The power motivations of the individual translate into the power
motivations of an entire people. When we speak of human psychological
construction of reality, we must also understand how humankind has come to
empower itself in the world in its own special way.
It is in this regard that we must learn to exercise great
caution in our judgement of the attributes and attitudes of others we do not
understand or who do not fit our own psychological preconceptions of what
people are like. The psychological complexity of any personality is enormous,
even astronomical by any standard of measurement. It is not only that previous
experiences, future expectations and immediate events concatenate in a dynamic
and chaotic way to create a momentary psychological profile, but more
importantly, we cannot be so sure where our own psychological constructions
and power trips end and those real psychological constructions and motivations
and interests of the other begins.
Yet in this regard we are constrained to respond and
interact with others with some kind of psychological construction of
reality--we must ascribe some form of status with another in relation to
ourselves in order to make sense of that person at all. We are forced into a
kind of psychological paradox of identity, such that the identity that we
ascribe to others and which others attribute to ourselves becomes inseparable
from our own and others psychological processes of identification.
Psychological identification is more than a purely internal process--it is an
external, and more importantly, a social and cultural process.
*****
Without Identity we would not be human
The paradox of human identity is that we cannot separate
our processes of psychological identification that are central to the
formation and stability of our individual personality, from those objects of
our external world, especially other people, to which we ascribe an identity.
The psychological world we construct outside of our selves, within the purview
of our psychological power, is a vital component of the construction of the
identity, the process of identification within ourselves. We become
identifiable and identified with the objects of our own identification.
On a basic level, we can properly speak of the embodiment
of our environment, through a process of psychological transference and
attachment of vital significance to externalized symbolization as if these
were an extension of our own being, our own sense of history, and our own
intentions
When we speak of transference, which is the psychological
equivalent of the symbolic displacement of value and significance, we must
also mention its relationship with the cognitive processes of reference and
inference. Attribution and ascription rely upon the dialectical processes of
relational reference and inference. Inference is a means of drawing upon
implicit meanings and relations in order to make conclusions or explicit
relational significances. Reference is a means of explicitly pointing out
relation which otherwise remain in the implicit context. The processes of
identification require the definition in belief and behavior of a
"significant reference other" as a kind of central role model, and
often the negative definition of a "counter-reference other" which
sort of anti-structurally defines and legitimates the other by marked
contrast. The symbolic embodiment of our effective life world entails a kind
of "relational topography" of salience by which our sense of
reference/inference is stable, and which the process of psychological
transference is coordinate. We can speak of rudimentary psychological
identification as involving this kind of learning and equilibrium within a set
environment of stable relations.
The objects that we identify in our environment are a part
of our own identification within the world. We cannot clearly separate the
emotional components of this dialectic of identity from the purely cognitive,
perceptual or behavioral components.
Human identification involves especially a cultural and
social environment. Our personalities are formed psychologically on the basis
of our early parental identification, which later becomes transferred upon a
wider and more diverse set of secondary role relations involving social
legitimacy, authority, etc.
This form of identification is essential in the formation
of our personality, at even an organic level. Small children require the
mediation of a caretaker as a means of integrating and internalization their
socio-cultural life worlds. Identification is the principle mechanism in the
psychological integration of personality, the formation of individual
character, and in the internalization of the effective environment. Even
meaning itself is characterized by the identity we bring to it--we identify
things in the world in some essential, vital way. No matter how seemingly
intelligent our computer, we can never be too sure that the definitions and
solutions it outputs per our requests would have the same vital sense of
identity--does it "know" the definition, or understanding its
solution?
It is in this regard that we can speak of developmental
discontinuities, contradictions and deprivation that results in disordered
identification later in life. These constitute the basis of the so-called
personality disorders and basic "dependencies" of personality. Early
primary socialization and identification may be broadly discrepant with later
requirements of identification that will result in either a kind of
displacement reaction, what is known as a conversion, or else in the
internalization of a basic dichotomy and contradiction of personality, which
will lead to the resultant need for psychological projection of elements which
need to be repressed.
The failure or disjunction of identification between the
internal personality and the external world results in the experience of
alienation, anomie and separation. These experiences can recall previous
episodes of similar disjunction, and their avoidance or the obsessive
unresolved conflicts from previous episodes can result in a breakdown or
failure of the individual personality to adapt to changing environments.
Strong, inordinate identification of personality at one period in a lifetime
might result in a kind of "fixation" of that personality at that
point, with the resulting incapacity of transference and reformulation of
identity.
It may frequently be the case that socio-cultural systems,
as systems of symbolization and of structured behavior, provide a supportive
crutch in the adaptation of people who are them selves psychologically
afflicted by continuing and unresolved conflicts of separation and fixation of
personality. Cultural systems may provide a protective umbrella that
reinforces the lack of adaptability of individuals, allowing these to achieve
partial adaptation within relatively narrow cultural frameworks. We have
numerous examples of fanatical sycophants, true believers and religious
zealots whose only claims to psychological stability is the fact that the
ideological system in which they are enmeshed is received as acceptable and
reasonable.
*****
The centrality of the processes of psychological
identification in the development and adaptation of the individual, especially
within an effective socio-cultural life world, leads to the critical question
of a socio-cultural psychology. We speak in this regard of the dialectics
between the psychological integration of the socio-cultural world, and of the
socio-cultural integration of the personality. This dynamic process of mutual
integration entails that we cannot clearly separate the boundary between the
internal nature of the individual and the role and influence of cultural
symbolization and social relations upon the personality. Nor can we completely
separate for objective analysis social action or relation as psychologically
non-subjective process.
We speak of enculturation, socialization and
anthropological acquisition as central processes in not only the formation of
human personality, but in the reproduction of the socio-cultural world. In
this regard we ask a critical question of the relationship between the
personality of the individual and the patterning, values, orientations and
histories of a culture and social grouping. This process of status-role
identification, one that is functionally determined by the distribution of
humans to resources and resources to humans, involves some measure of
coordination between personality and cultural orientation. We can refer to
"structuration" as the ongoing reconstructive "moment" of
this interrelationship between the propagation of the system and the
development of the personality. This is of course a complex, dynamic and
dialectical process. We can speak of its conservative tendency towards
holistic integration of psycho-social experience, yet this integration is
nowhere complete or finished. Human nature, no matter how culturally
constrained, is still by definition open and unfinished business. To the
extent that such integration is achieved, we can refer to the relativity of
culture and psychology. And yet it is not ever absolutely so in even the most
rigidly constrained social systems. All human systems must retain a modicum of
latitude and flexibility if they are to be adaptive at all. In this margin of
openness exists the universal possibilities of human nature, of the function
comparability of socio-cultural systems, etc.
There is some relationship between the degree of hierarchy
that is culturally emphasized, and measure of social stratification and social
closure, and the development of authoritarian personality traits in
individuals, the need for projection and in-group/out-group boundary
identification, and the tolerance and promotion of violence and aggression
within a system, and the experimentation with hate and victimization. This
relationship may not be a simple one or easily explained, but from a
psychological standpoint it is important to consider the relationship between
the social empowerment of the individual personality, and the psychological
empowerment of the social system. Such forms of reciprocal empowerment often
come to positively focus upon identification with a key individual or a
specific orientation of personality or way of life, and comes also to
negatively scape-goat upon an antithetical and contraposed orientation.
We must understand in this regard the importance of ritual
process in social structuration, and especially, of ceremonies which mark and
define as "anti-structural" those experiences or events which are
seen as symbolically marginal to the collective orientation. It is by such
means of the incorporation of "anti-structure" that structure comes
to define itself as universal and complete. The key element of such
anti-structure is that it is rigidly marked and structured within the system,
as interstitial, and as rites of reversal, or marked contrast, with the normal
moral order of the system. A great deal of psychological deviance may be
symbolically at least a form of psychological anti-structure in reaction to
the system, just as it is during such ritual episodes that such repressed
psychological reactions are most apparent.
We must understand that the processes involved in this
dialectic between personality and socio-cultural system are themselves unfixed
and continuously reconstructed. In this regard, we must think of these
processes as always negotiated, no matter how much the asymmetry of
dominance-dependency might be promoted. This negotiation involves the ceding
of power from the system to the individual, and from the individual to the
system. It involves a series of interactions and dialogues between individuals
and their status role models, by which a contract and a compromise of mutual
interest are established.
We must seek the anthropological ramifications of
psycho-social "interest" in such dialectics. A calculus of identity,
interest and involvement entails an assessment of motivations, needs,
capacities, orientations, intentions, values, commitment and involvement in
social relations. We are largely defined within the nexus of our social
relations, and the kinds of reciprocities that these entail, whether they are
affective or symbolic or material. Interest as such comes to define and
demarcate social relations, and social relations come to instantiate the
differentials, conflicts and cooperation of mutual interests between people.
In such a manner, the complexities of a "system" however
institutionalized, become the interests, realized, frustrated or potential, of
individuals in transaction and social interrelation.
These interests, as psychologically constituted as they are
psychologically constitutive, form the basis, then for psycho-social
integration of human reality, and furthermore, are functionally and
relationally defined in the relationship between humans and resources,
including, of course, symbolic, social and psychological resources.
*****
An anthropological psychology of "human being"
must aim at those psychological states, attributes and dimensions of
phenomenological experience which are uniquely, characteristically human.
There is a range of experience, perceptual, behavioral, conceptual and
linguistic, which we come to recognize as thus far exclusively human. These
are the human psychological traits which most intrigue and interest us in our
scientific inquiries.
It is the subjective experience of these elements that we
come to know, recognize and define our humanness and the basis of our nature.
Human identity and identification involves more than just the internalization
and externalization of the world into the body. It is even more a matter of
the psychic integration of experience that leads us to recognize and define a
unique sense of self, of biography, of individuality and personality, or of
what may be called "anthropological ego." Anthropological ego brings
into focus the "sacred" and spiritual components of human value, of
symbolization. We know ourselves by our sentience and our imagination of
possible worlds, by our empathy and ability to feel the feeling of others,
even of non-human others, and thereby to form a relationship of respect or
even of worship with others. It is not without reason that we hold all living
things in reverence and that we attribute to individual a notion of universal
human rights.
If we define such ego simply as a complicated little bundle
of many things and their interrelations, both within themselves and with the
outside world, we are faced with a dilemma of the synergy of our
anthropological system of being. It is a synthetic unity that cannot be simply
analyzed by a dissection of its elements and their connections. The
anthropological ego in the world forms a functional unity of identity and
process that cannot be simply analyzed or directly understood.
From an evolutionary and historical standpoint,
anthropological ego in the world and its anthropological construction of
reality constitute the basis for a fundamental problematic of the
existentiality of human being in the world. This basic problematic is in part
one of psychological identification, but more, it is one of anthropological
integration of reality. It is inherently paradoxical because it is symbolic
and it is a system of knowledge that, in its very moment of recognition,
constitutes its denial and nihilation as experience of the world. Or human
dilemma is not only the evolutionary imperative of survival or of historical
achievement--but it is a basic dilemma of anthropological identity and unity
with the world.
In this we can recognize the inherent limits and
anthropological horizon of our psychological knowledge. We must seek to
understand ourselves and our own subjectivity while remaining bound within the
psychological purview of our own experience and subjectivity. It becomes
irreparably reflexive and anti-nomial. It is without wonder that psychological
ambivalence and existential uncertainty is a universal anthropological
characteristic of our human condition.
IX
The Anthropology of Abnormality
One human's vice may be another's virtue, but we may all be
both vicious and virtuous creatures.
The questions of the
anthropological construction of reality considered so far have come to focus
upon the universal occurrence of human abnormality, defined behaviorally,
psychologically and socially, and its functional significance as symbolic
anti-structure. A theory of anthropological abnormality must see it also as a
constructive process, one that has for normal process destructive
consequences. It must also construe it from the point of view of
anthropological normality and its normative connotation of "health"
as something that is itself relative to its anthropological construction in
reality. This leads to a need to define an anthropological theory of human
health--as to what might constitute a healthy personality and a healthy
socio-cultural context for the realization of personality.
These issues address a long-standing argument concerning
the relativity of culture and the integration of culture and personality. We
cannot fully understand our anthropological conception of "culture"
if we do not first deal with this notion of anthropological
"abnormality" as something more than normative judgements. A
non-normative definition of "abnormal" and hence of
"normal" is the foundation for a "science" of cultural
anthropology, and it points up the value of understanding abnormality in
anthropological knowledge such that we might better define the boundaries of
normality.
There are several key issues that deserve elaboration in
this regard, and these are:
1. An anthropological theory of psycho-cultural
integration and its basis in the functional definition of human health.
2. An anthropological theory of psychological pathology
and personality disorder.
3. An anthropological elaboration of the experience of
"culture shock", alternative states of consciousness and
transformation of personality.
4. The anthropological notion of "archosis"
and of "social pathology" as institutionalized process.
5. The definition of certain psycho-social events such
as mass hysteria, violence, etc., as evidence of
"anthropo-pathological phenomena."
6. The anthropological definition of
"anti-structure" as the symbolic antithesis of
"structure."
A non-normative definition of anthropological normality
must be considered from a functional point of view that takes into account the
functional adaptation of the individual, and by extension, of the group, in
its total environment. This definition presupposes a kind of functional
relativism that says that whatever succeeds functionally must be seen as
healthy. But such a definition is not ever so simple or simplistic, because
functional adaptation of a group may be dysfunctional for many individuals or
other groups, and may in the long run prove dysfunctional for the group as
well. It does set a very broad range for the spectrum of human possibility and
socio-culturally patterning.
To say that there are no absolute, non-relative criteria of
anthropological normality is not the same thing as claiming there can be no
non-normative definition of such normality. Issue might be taken with the
point that normative evaluation is intrinsic to the definition of
normality--each implies and necessitates the other--therefore we cannot escape
the normative implications of our anthropological definitions of normality. It
is also simply not sufficient to merely set the outward bounds for such
normality by defining it negatively and implicit by what it is not or by its
opposite of abnormality, although this is largely what we do.
We can seek some kind of statistical definition of
normality, with the sobering reminder that whatever our unreal
"average" there will always exist countless counterexamples and
exceptions which we must take into account.
If our anthropological definitions of normality lead us to
conclusions which may seem to contradict some tacit presuppositions we may
have about human virtue and goodness, then this alone should not lead us to
reject outright such definitions. Normal human beings may not be by definition
necessarily moral beings.
If we find that most humans by nature tend to be
exploitative and that most recent cultural orientations which have succeeded
on earth have been anti-ecological, and that human altruism or unselfishness
is an uncommon virtue, we should not therefore necessarily reject the
importance of the moral character of humanity as abnormal. Are we to judge
traditional Hindu civilization as necessarily immoral or abnormal because it
is rooted in an ethos of hierarchy, which is antithetical to our own somewhat
hypocritical egalitarian ethos, without thereby bringing into serious doubt
the groundless moral-normative credibility of our own cultural orientation.
A functional definition based upon the psycho-cultural
integration of individuals within a cultural framework does not necessarily
succeed either, because it has been historically the case that some of the
most tightly integrated societies achieved such integration at great human
cost, and generally, in the long run, proved to be dismal failures.
We must not confuse the question of the anthropologically
normal, yet culturally relative, with the other question of what is
anthropologically "healthy" which seems to imply some kind of
normative commitment to non-absolute values. A "normal" society may
or may not prove to be a healthy society, and a seemingly healthy society may
or may not be a "normal" society. This is a complex anthropological
problematic which may lack any final resolution and which will be considered
again in the penultimate chapter of this work.
Here it must suffice to develop a working anthropological
definition of normality and abnormality as an issue fundamentally separate
from the normative question of morality, as defined by anthropological
experience. The question of anthropological definitions of normality and of
human health must also be considered as fundamentally separable questions.
The normality, morality and health of any given individual
or any given socio-cultural grouping in history are intricate and entangled
questions, entangled by the problematic of their basic relativity upon several
levels of anthropological process.
There seems to be no satisfactory, straightforward solution
that would appeal to our scientific sensibilities. The definition of
anthropological normality must encompass the question of morality, and must
include as well the definition of abnormality. What seems most normally the
case is the instance of human error and imperfection, and the case of the
human possibility for correction. We all share in the human heart of darkness,
and the paradox of our sentient being is that this heart of darkness becomes
also the source of our own humanity and philanthropy. If historical humanity
seems most normally a war-mongering beast, then the historicity of this
bestiality does not thereby preclude the possibility or efficacy of
establishing peace on earth. Our being is most normally open and unfinished,
and part of this unfinished business included both the possibility of being
very bad and very good.
We thus transcend the normative issues of the question of
human normality/abnormality, and come to understand these normative questions
as in part a consequence of our definitions of normality and abnormality. We
seek to judge humankind by the character of its actions, after the historical
fact of their instantiation--we do not seek to anthropologically pre-judge
human character or behavior.
The objectivity of anthropological knowledge about human
action in the world is rooted in this commitment to a non-normative, hence
"relativistic" attitude towards human difference. We can think like
anthropologists and still pass moral judgements like human beings, though
these are considered professionally exclusive concerns. This may lead to some
forms of anthropological objectivity that are difficult to stomach from a
moral or human point of view. How can we adopt a non-moral, anthropological
objective view of the kinds of social processes that lead to the mass
extermination of the Jews by the Nazis during the holocaust? And yet we must
if we are to seek an anthropological understanding of the nature and
possibility of human evil in the world.
Studying such events and social processes in an
anthropologically objective manner does not necessarily entail condoning those
processes. In fact our primary anthropological motivation may be their
theoretical value in the fact that such practices are almost universally
condemnable and regarded as anti-human by virtually any standard that they are
most interesting anthropologically, and yet the historical fact and facticity
of its occurrence, an occurrence in which an entire nation and culture was
involved, remains to be reckoned with from an anthropological point of view.
*****
We must live daily beneath the dilemma that in human terms a
law is always defined by its violations.
One problem with our definitions of abnormality is that we
define it from a scientific and moral standpoint as almost exclusively a
phenomenon of the individual. We lack any consistent theories that treat
social pathology as a "disease" of an entire group or social
organization. But, besides a bit of the "organic fallacy", such
theories would not be in many circumstances very far from the truth. We cannot
conceive of how whole organizations or groups or even nations may behave at
times and in ways that seem pathologically self-destructive, even though we
are not lacking in numerous examples of just such group phenomena.
We shoulder the individual with sole responsibility despite
the psychological fact that within many organizational contexts there is a
general diffusion of responsibility. We are quite to label and treat deviant
individuals as "abnormal" by standards that we hesitate to question
as also possibly "abnormal".
We generally ignore the alternative possibility of wider
deviance that may be institutionalized process in a society. Perhaps this is
in part because we have always tended to equate norms and standards of
behavior with collective interests and group sanctions. An anthropological
theory of the normal and abnormal will not be attained until the alternative
set of problematic of the possible abnormality of entire social systems can be
taken fully into account in our formulas. But, again, how can we do so without
attributing what may amount to our own culturally biased normative
evaluations.
It seems as though most state officials reserve for
themselves the privilege of labeling entire societies, and usually refrain
from doing so until a war or severe competition makes it convenient to do so.
When we label our official enemies as evil and as somehow inhuman, we often
fail to see our own complicity in the perpetration of violence as also evil
and as in some way in humane.
For a society to regularly bring into question the
credibility or legitimacy of another, outside of the justifications of war or
competition, would be to also indirect cast a shadow upon its own legitimacy
and credibility.
It is unwise for those who live in glass houses to cast
stones. Even anthropologists are not professionally construed as having the
power or the privilege of making a judgement call, no matter how sound and
reasonable it may be, upon the health or disease of a society in question, in
a similar way that the exclusive authority of a doctor is regularly called
upon in the diagnosis and treatment of biological disease. This form of power,
real and explicit social control, is a power which is reserved by the
officials of the state, whether they be self-appointed or elected. But the
anthropological question of the health or pathology of a social system remains
to be answered nevertheless.
It seems that this entire dimension of social science is
deliberately shied away from, because it tends to relativize not only the
society we bring under our scrutiny, but by implicit contrast the relative
health of our own social ethos as well. This kind of question remains mostly
taboo in the context of a conservative political arena.
And this also points up the degree to which anthropology
and social science, as functional institutions within a larger social
framework, are constrained and made subservient to larger, more powerful
agendas.
As long as such questions are kept strictly
"academic," some amount of questioning of social ethos and norms are
not only permissible, but to be expected. But as soon as such questions are
brought into a wider public forum as part of policy, they quickly become
sanctioned as a threat to the normal order. And a great deal of this
sanctioning process goes on as psychological self-sanctioning and
interpersonal suppression of "radical ideas". But again the fact of
such questions, and their basis in reality, remains to be considered.
One lead in this regard has been Edward Sapir's distinction
between genuine and spurious cultural orientations. We must consider as
anthropologically sound the social relations and an aegis of culture that
fosters the cultural development of the individual, or of many individuals, in
a kind of positive cybernesis with the socio-cultural environment, and as
anthropologically "spurious" those relations that tend to be
competitive, exclusive, and which tend to deny or frustrate the fulfillment of
the individual's developmental capacity. In other words, it seems difficult to
justify anthropologically any sorts of human relations which tend to deprive
the individual of fulfillment, and which are rooted in stratification and
differential access to resources. This call to a kind of generalized
anthropological equality seems itself a bit serious if we consider that human
civilization has been built as much upon stratification and exploitation as it
has been upon "human fulfillment" or bloodshed. But we have yet to
receive a final verdict upon the anthropological soundness of human
civilization.
Evidence from a meager handful of some of the most
prototypically undeveloped cultures on earth all point to a basic equality and
reciprocity of relations of prehistoric human beings that defy any form of
stratification whatsoever. Stratification and human history brought
fulfillment for a few, but often at the expense of the many.
And yet, in some of the most modernized societies, no
matter what the net cost in a global perspective, the standard of living
remains unprecedented, disease and premature death has been brought under
control, and the quantity, if not quality, of living has become unsurpassed.
From a purely functional standpoint, by almost anyone's standards such
societies should be construed as "healthy" if not quite moral. And
the entire rational of developmental anthropology rests upon this unasked
premise--"Why not?"
Ruth Benedict proffered another definition of the abnormal
as those personality orientations that fall outside of the predominant
patterning of a culture, by embodying basic contradictions to the ethos of
this pattern. This relativist definition leaves aside the question of a
universal norm, except in its call for universal tolerance of individual
differences. By this definition then, normality becomes a question of internal
"fit" between culture and personality, whether from an extrinsic
point of view this fit is adaptive or not. This more closely conforms to a
functionalist definition of normality that adopts a point of view of the
internal structure of a society.
Regardless of the larger implications of such a theory,
from the standpoint of the anthropological construction of reality it seems to
be a necessary point of entry into the problem. In this regard we can speak of
the relative symbolic integration between a socio-cultural system and
individual psychology, a continuous process which entails some modicum of
adaptability in the bigger world. Mostly integrated societies are usually
adapted along the lines of integration.
Symbolic integration, especially in long established
traditional orientations, tend to pervade every facet of individual and social
life. It unites the different segments of life into a unified whole, and lends
symbolic legitimization to its facticity. Such symbolic integration allows us
the illusion of reification of the whole, of the whole self, of the whole
life, of the whole system, which is transcendent in identity and purpose
beyond its many components, and which often constitutes the basis of personal
and social action in the world. Such reification does not necessarily have to
assume an explicit form, but may remain implicit in the background of peoples'
beliefs, rituals and customary practices. There is a mutual, common investment
and commitment to a set of corporate interests and corporate identity which
extends beyond the bounds of individual self interest or even of the immediate
moment of group involvement.
Symbolic integration affects both the individual psyche and
organic functions of the individual and the social mentality and group
coordination and the character of social relations. Symbolic integration
implies a coordination of significance upon a linguistic and meta-linguistic
level. It involves the reiteration of traditional schemas in the voice of the
present, the reshaping of old themes to fit new circumstances. Symbolic
integration, from this functionalist perspective, becomes as a work of art--a
grand and consonant synthesis of many diverse parts.
We can accept, tentatively, a definition of normality and
health as something based upon a "domestic analogy" with issues of
human rights, freedoms and responsibilities. In the sense that social
relations are defined in the balance between rights and responsibilities to
uphold the rights of others, we see that societies are themselves constrained
within a similar need to maintain a balance. At the upper boundaries in
realizing the cultural freedom of its patterns without violating the freedoms
of other cultural groupings, and at a lower limit of realizing cultural
conformity and unity of action without thereby restricting the rights and
freedoms of its individual constituency. We can consider the reverse case in a
theory that sees the common predicament of humankind as having been caught
between a lower boundary of "micro-parasitism" in its struggle for
social survival, and an upper boundary of "macro-parasitism" by the
depredations of a small exploitative elite class on the body of the host
society.
An internal and external definition of socio-cultural
normality would consider the mutual limits and the dynamic historical
dialectic between the shared interests of achieving internal integration and
external interests in adaptation of the society in the world. Internal
functional integration is considered healthy and normal as long as it promotes
but does not prevent adaptation in the world, or the interests of group
survival in the long run. Inherently destructive social movements must be
considered also to be inherently self-destructive. On the other hand,
adaptation in the world is considered a normal external function, as long as
this does not lead to internal disintegration. This dynamic dialectic becomes
an issue that resolves itself around the problem of resource distribution,
acquisition and control, as both individuals and groups come into competition
with one another for exclusive advantage over the interests of others.
There is no simple calculus of what constitutes a set of
resources that drive individual or group interest--resources may be cultural,
psychological, symbolic, spiritual and human as much as they are material or
natural. They are defined by human interest and involvement, which includes as
an important subset human needs. One culture's definition of resources and
interests may be quite divergent from another--conquistador's were interested
in gold in a way which was foreign to interests of the native peoples, a kung
bushman would have little need for uranium ore discovered in his hunting
areas.
In this regard, we can speak of a functional convergence of
basic resources which is pan-human and which are defined by the basic human
needs and requirements for survival--food, air, water, heat and energy,
shelter, sexual reproduction, etc. We can then speculate upon a large range of
derivative and secondary resources that are more culturally defined and
variable.
From this standpoint, we can imagine a normal and healthy
context that strikes a delicate and complicated balance between many different
conditions. We can accept a tentative definition of human health as freedom
from parasitism, whether natural or human-made, and as the maintenance of the
established wisdom of a mutual symbiosis with the world, whether natural or
social. We can also imagine the possibility of an entire society being lead by
a handful of abnormal individuals to commit acts which are by any standards
against their own self or group-interests, by fostering a symbolic illusion of
a vital interest or need which does not in fact exist.
*****
An insane world is one in which symbols no longer make
sense.
If we adopt such a functionalist definition of normality,
we can then define abnormality as, from an internal standpoint, the symbolic
disintegration between socio-cultural system and the individual, with
consequences upon both the individual psyche and upon the group life and
social relations. The case of the civil war of Vietnam brought forward the
idea of "desymbolization" as an important symptom of the
disintegration of a people and its traditional culture. Desymbolization is the
result of symbols that no longer perform their function of coordinating
meaning upon the linguistic level of the medium and the meta-linguistic level
of the message. Internal contradictions between levels result in destructive
dissonance that undermines both the psychological and the social normative
foundations of group identity and life. Unity of action and purpose become
lost, and group identity becomes a thing of crosscutting and contradictory
relations.
This internal disintegration becomes matched externally in
the disequilibrium of the balance established in-group relations with the
individual constituency and with other groups. Conflict of interests and
schismogenic competition over the same resources become the symptoms of such
desymbolization. Adaptation becomes a destructive process of aggression,
rather than a constructive process. Of course, externally, such situations
seem to have been more normal than not in the history of humankind, although
we can point to the rise of increasing political centralization,
administration and social stratification as the principle means of overcoming
and establishing regionally a larger, external framework of adaptive
equilibrium. We refer to this as political integration, and note the
pervasiveness of conflict and warfare between politically integrated groups or
in areas left undefined by higher political integration. In a sense, political
integration is a central issue of any civil war or radical, revolutionary
social movement.
We can imagine big brother worlds in which the purposes of
political integration take precedence over all other social considerations,
and which is only achieved at tremendous cost in individual freedoms and
liberties. We must ask how free we have become in our brave new world if we
face an ever present and pervasive psychological need to liberate ourselves
from our own repression--though every physical or material need may be over
satiated.
A definition of human disease must be recognized as the
suffering from parasitic infection and the failure of maintaining a mutually
symbiotic relationship with the world.
We can recognize several levels of psychological disorder.
First, we can refer to those "organic" mental diseases such as
schizophrenia, catatonia, manic-depression, dementia, substance-dependency,
and possibly impulse control disorders. We can recognize a broader and more
variable class of "neurotic" disorders which show and evidence of
psychological, emotional, adaptive and mental dysfunction, but without a clear
organic basis or etiology. Finally, we can refer to that range of
"personality" and "sociopathic" disorders that seem to be
rooted in the failure of acquisition processes and early identification which
results in the internalization of fundamentally discrepant or contradictory
realities. We can furthermore see the possible patterns of interdependency in
these levels of disorder, and their linkages to broader levels of social
dysfunction of relations and social structure.
Unalleviated neurosis can be a pathway to the formation of
psychosis, and are often accompanying or prelude symptoms of a psychotic
episode. Personality disorders which are fundamentally basic and relatively
permanent may induce stress, or be induced by social stresses, which result in
the vicious spiral into neurotic-psychotic disorder. On a social plane, we can
see that personality disorders are often inextricably implicated in social
pathologies within institutional or reciprocal social relations. Such social
pathologies involve victimization, dominance-dependency, violence, exaggerated
forms of aggression or sexual perversion, extreme sycophancy and
authoritarianism. Marginal sub-groups often attract and are constituted by
marginal members of a society who are them selves psychologically maladjusted
to the dominant ethos. Such subcultures can provide a modicum of symbolic
integration that permits the partial adaptation of the individual.
The anthropological construction of reality involves both
the creation and the reshaping of individual and collective psychological
identity. There is a basic coordination between individual personality
configurations as culturally constructed and dominant "cultural
types"--assimilation through internalization, and "alternation"
to such types in secondary socialization often involves a manipulative
orientation that is considered as "spurious" rather than genuine.
******
Abnormality is the shadow of normality that is cast between
alternative realities.
We must consider the definition of abnormality as arising
from the possibility of discrepancy and contradiction between competing,
inimical and exclusive versions of reality. If primary socialization in a
specialized, complex society entails the internalization of plausibly distinct
versions of identity, then a choice will be available to the individual, a
choice that will include the possibility of "betweenness" between
both realities. If we must choose what is normal from a spectrum of cultural
differences, then we are either forced to adopt one orientation or another as
normal, by which all others are at least implicitly abnormal, or else we must
adopt a more relativist orientation which would define that abnormal as what
is marginal or interstitial to any and all cultural orientations.
It is in this regard that we can consider the
anthropological phenomena of "culture shock" as centrally apropos in
the anthropological construction of "abnormality." It is in other
words the condition of being either without a cultural orientation at all, or
else between caught indeterminably between alternate and often contradictory
cultural orientations. The common experiences of culture shock are feelings of
separation, homesickness, symbolic displacement, disorientation,
disaffectation, threatening ideas of reference in regard to the host
environment, depression and the kind of emotional crises affecting severe
alteration. If we can refer to "culture shock" in the unusual
circumstances of crossing cultural boundaries, we might also refer to similar
syndroms of "social shock" which might accompany dramatic
dislocation, social role or status-identity redefinition, and radical social
mobility. We can also refer to "personality shock" which might
accompany "alternation", conversion or personality reorientation in
course of one's biographical development.
A theory of culture shock sees for possible pathways or
modalities of adaptation, which correspond well with four basic patterns of
acculturative processes. The most severe form of culture shock is demonstrated
in cases of chauvinistic attachment to one's original orientation. The second
form is one of the "captured" convert who totally abnegates the
original orientation in the adoption of the foreign. A third form is one of
rather permanent marginalization between both orientations, such that it leads
to dysfunctional adaptation in either or both orientations. A final form,
perhaps the most successful, is a variant of the third, entailing a permanent
betweenness, but one that is based upon a successful fusion or else
independent alternation between the two worlds.
It makes sense to refer to basic cultural processes of
disintegration and "dislocation" which can accompany the shock of
the new or the foreign. Severe acculturative pressures, especially if these
are asymmetrical, can lead to a relatively permanent dislocation of a people
from their historically rooted and traditional orientation in the world, a
dislocation which may or may not be accompanied by a successful substitution
or displacement of previous values and norms by alternate ones.
Traditional cultural formulas regular define rituals and
symbolic means for mediating such transitions or for "healing" the
shock of marginal experiences. Such mechanisms provide a normal and healthy
means for managing with the threat of disorder and chaos which accompanies
dramatic differences or discrepancies. From this standpoint, transition and
transformation itself, as the symbolic and phenomenological experience of
"betweeness" and of change, is what is deemed as most abnormal,
anti-structural and threatening to a cultural order. Transition offers the
threat of disintegration and failure of reincorporation, of a permanent
condition of marginalization without definite identity within any orientation.
On the other hand, humans seem to have an inherent capacity
and even a psychological need for the adaptive flexibility thyat accompanies
such alternation and transition. Psychologically, human beings have available
a broad range of alternative states of consciousness, some of which may be
promoted or prohibited by a society. The abandon and therapeutic exaltation
which accompanies trance and spirit-possession are adaptive forms of
alternation in conditions characterized by severe psychic distress or social
stress--these are marginal states which in a more apollonian and organized
society are deemed as inappropriate and threatening to the normal status quo
of rational consciousness.
The longer history of human adaptation may have been one of
regular movement and adaptation in a larger context--migration may have been
frequent and relatively common. Sendentism may actually have been a more
recent social innovation that became adopted as the normal mode of cultural
existence. Humans may be more or less equipped to accomplish such external
adaptation and transition by their primary experiences of enculturation. We
must seriously regard the possibility of anthropological abnormality in the
inability of "normal" people to effect or successfully accomplish
alternations or transitions, and who are so structured and defined with a
static orientation, that they find change or difference to be normally
threatening or dangerous.
*****
We cannot clearly separate where our madness ends and the
other's begins.
We must seriously consider the not uncommon cases of social
pathology or "archosis" as fundamentally institutionalized and
normalized "abnormality"--a form of social psychosis which afflicts
upon a functional and structural level of the organization of a society.
An example of such archosis are a nation of people so
wrapped up in the symbolic mythoi of their collective identity and
consciousness, that they promote a fanatical ideological orientation which
denies the history of their involvement in genocide and ethnocide of other
peoples. It may involve not only a vast and intricate circle of deceit, a
culture of denial, or a collective delusion, but it may also involve
institutionally the socialization and mobilization for violent action and
aggression, for hate, as well as the paranoid illusions of a hostile world.
Such a social system must be described as psychotic because its normal modes
of information processing and interrelation with a larger world become
fundamentally disturbed--internal symbolic processing precludes the
assimilation and mediation of external changes or differences. An example of
such a collective syndrome in the social psychology of small group dynamics
involves the theory of "group-think" which may become a predominant
influence in high level strategy and policy-making.
Militarism can be seen as a gradual "infection"
of a society which involves institutionalization and socialization for
mobilization for war and violence against targeted out-groups, a culture of
male dominance, hate-proneness, etc. In regard to the military mentality that
is promoted in a militaristic society, we can also consider the formation of
authoritarian power structures within societies that preclude individual
achievement or alternation outside of the authority structure of the system.
Such systems promote a form of paternalistic authoritarianism that places a
premium upon conformity, uniformity and collective consciousness, and regards
as antithetical to its interests, signs of individuality or individual
initiative. The denial of individual subjectivity is intrinsic in such
authoritarian regimes. Social authoritarianism promotes psychological
authoritarianism, and authoritarian characters flock together and organize
themselves into strongly authoritarian power structures.
We must see implicit in all forms of social stratification
principle of hierarchy and structural inequality that is supported at the base
by appeals to collective solidarity and symbolic interest. The key aspect of
authoritarian societies and of archosis is that individuals regular place
group interests and reified collective identities before their own individual
interests to such a point that the former may entail the nihilation or
destruction of the individual in their fulfillment. Whether or not we regard
such a process as anthropologically normal or not, which is always an open
question in the modern context of capitalistic development, we cannot but
regard it as functionally diseased and maladaptive--as an anthropological form
of pathology.
Social systems exist in an uneasy relationship with change
and transition in the world--they must provide serviceable mechanisms for
mediating such transition at all levels. These mechanisms have to do with
power, if we define power in terms of the capacity to control and cause
change. Too much change can be as pathological to a system as too much
resistance to change.
Social movements, their genesis in the schisms of social
change and conflict, are an indication of the state of being of a given
society. Social movements are like transformations or transitional states of
the personality--they represent forms of social alternation that accompanies
reorganization. The schismogenic processes of social movements are
evolutionary and have been continuous throughout the history of human
civilization--the few that succeed of the many that fail are not an indication
of the latent tendencies inherent in all human social organization for schism,
conflict and regenesis.
*****
All real things of the world cast a shadow.
"Anthropo-pathology" can be considered, from the
standpoint of an anthropology of knowledge, as both a study of the kind of
disorder inherent to anthropological understanding, as well as the kind of
disorder that is inherent in the anthropological construction of reality. As a
study in human "antistructure" and "destruction" which
attempts to ascertain an order in human disorder, it tests and defines for us
the boundaries around our normal ranges of experience, as well as the extreme
limits of our range of human variation.
A holistic and synthetic approach to
"anthropo-pathology" must consider that the different kinds of human
disorder, whether psycho-pathology or social pathology, cannot be clearly
distinguished from one another, especially in their symbolic aspects. There is
a symbolic integration of reality to be found even in processes of apparent
symbolic disintegration. It is integration which proceeds along the margins of
our normal sense of reality, and is therefore construed in many ways as
antithetical to it, but it shares in the same underlying psychological and
symbological processes as does our normal, everyday orientation toward
reality. This order in disorder is reversed from the normal ordering of
anthropological process, and bears a contrastive relationship to change and
transition than does normal order. In a sense, change is valued in its own
right, not for its consequences in terms of stability and stasis, but for its
own intrinsic effect. Given such an orientation, any form of stability except
the stability of instability, becomes anathema. Symbolically, the normal
relation between the sign and the signified, becomes reversed, as more of an
irrelation.
When we refer to reversible worlds, we refer to a fantasy
realm of a human delight in disorder and celebration of difference. There
seems to be an intrinsic human need, however much repressed, for symbolic
reversal of the normal ordering of experience. Perhaps dreams are made of such
reversal. Perhaps there is a therapeutic or rehabilitative function in such a
need--humans have been adapting for many millenium to changes in their world,
and the facticity of change and its qualities of randomness are incorporated
in a stochastic way into human culture and character.
Events or episodes of anthro-pathology--crowd reactions,
mass movements and hysteria, individual deviance or group deviance, etc.,
found to occur at a certain minimal frequency in all societies, which clearly
demonstrate how this kind of intrinsic human disorder happens and what it may
involve. It is frequently violent and destructive. It is often framed in terms
of symbolic reversals of the normal order.
We might refer to a basic anthropological dialectic,
between nature and culture, structure and anti-structure, identity and
difference, stability and change, order and chaos, life and death, and between
construction and destruction, that is constitutive of the human condition, not
only symbolically, but functionally and adaptationally in the world as well.
It may be a dialectic, as Anthony Wallace described, that has no net synthesis
except the simple resynthesis of change itself.
From this standpoint, all structure casts its
anthropological shadow--and it is by the proportions of its shadows that we
gain a sense of the outlines and dimensions of reality. A world without
contrasts is not only flat, but anthropologically uninteresting. There can be
no anthropological construction of reality without its possibility for
destruction.
X
The Anthropology of Culture
We seek our human identity upon the edges of our world.
Gone is the
anthropological illusion of culture as a bounded, isolated phenomena--no
longer can we afford to foster this illusion of the enclosed culture circle
that has existed in a kind of timeless vacuum sense the dawn of humankind.
"culture" as anthropological process offers us a phenomenology of
human reality which brings back to our anthropological formulas both a sense
of history and time and a psychology of human being and a sense of the
subjective importance of the individual personality.
We construe our cultural realities in terms of the complex,
multi-determined boundaries by which we order our experiences and
relationships with the world. The notion of "Culture" as a complex,
phenomenological boundary demarcating the human experience and defining our
common human condition, describes a pathway by which we navigate our
realities.
The kind of cultural boundary we seek to maintain unites
our experience in history as biographical, connecting our sense of the past
with our present predicament and our future promises. It is a complex boundary
which functions upon many levels of our integration of experience, and yet
which no where remains very clearly defined for very long. It pervades every
facet of our experience, and yet the fact of its own boundedness remains
commonly invisible and transparent to our view.
We have come, by a rather circuitous route, to reconsider,
and possibly rehabilitate, the notion of anthropological "Culture"
as a central orienting conception in the anthropological construction of
reality, both theoretically and in the "really real" world. Culture
has been a rather paradoxical concept, for though it has been a central
orienting paradigm for an entire "science of humanity" it
nevertheless is itself without fixed or final definition. It has been many
things to different people, and in an ideal sense, can be claimed not to
really exist at all except as our own anthropological construction of reality.
The notion of "culture" as boundary; offers us an
opportunity to reformulate and reintegrate the rather contradictory
foundations of anthropological science. Human boundaries are holistically
integrative and thus by definition also entail a relativity--but the fact of
such boundary itself may be a human universal, and it is by means of
boundaries that we identify differences in the world, and thus boundaries have
always implied cultural and anthropological comparisons. Phenomenologically
and empirically, boundaries also bring our feet back down to the earth in the
sense that they do not imply eidetic, eternal "strukturs" or
"Logos" of human reality. They are negotiated, permeable, malleable,
diaphanous, alterable, ephemeral, violable--human boundaries, in short, unlike
so many boundaries which have kept most other species in their place, are
constructed.
How shall we construe the concept of "Culture" as
anthropological boundary? It is a boundary that is defined through time as
much as its marked across space. It is as much psychologically as socially
constructed. It is symbolic as well as materially defined. It is both embodied
and disembodied. These dimensions have been reiterated enough. But the
conception of Culture as a complex boundary in the anthropological
construction of reality has other important implications. First it marks the
texture and the manifold contours the fabric of our experience.
We are both united and separated by it, and it is the
principle means by which we are known and others are known by us. Without a
stable sense of boundary, meaning would not be possible--the anthropological
construction of reality would not take place. It is basically a symbolic and
therefore paradoxical texture. In one hand we may hold its substance, and in
the other it may slip through our fingers no matter tightly we grasp it. Its
complexity is integrated in a stochastic way that incorporates randomness.
We usually understand a given cultural orientation by terms
of that strange anthropological calculus which interconnects its various
traits and aspects, its traditions, style-patterns, values, beliefs, symbolism
and collective representations, mythologies, rituals, institutions,
technologies, arts and artifacts, we attribute relativity to culture in our
understanding that no two cultural orientations are quite alike, though they
may share many parallels, and many are radically different. We can travel over
a mountain-ridge with expectations of encounter people not unlike the one's we
just left behind, only perchance to discover a very different and
contradictory orientation. There seems little systematic order in the
diffusion and adoption of traits and elements across our boundaries that would
allow us to predict with any sufficient accuracy the consequences of contact
we establish between our boundaries. And yet when we scratch the surface of
their skins we find the same basic humaness as that's within ourselves.
It is in our own nature that we need our boundaries by
which to make sense of our realities. The kind of sense we make is cultural
knowledge, and the boundaries that we depend upon are our own reciprocal
cultural constructions of reality. The sense of boundary which underlies our
conception of culture demands also that we conceive of cultural process as a
dialectical continuum which incorporates change and stability along a wide
range of possibilities, which combines and recombines a broad diversity of
elements into stylistically unique patterns.
The boundaries of this cultural continuum are characterized
by the dialectics which its many elements are mutually constrained. These
dialectics articulate our cultural boundaries. They entail the incorporation
of basic tensions and contradictions--the contradictions of cross-purposes and
inimical designs. There is no culture which is without its own special set of
conflicts and contradictions, and there is no cultural grouping, no matter how
enclosed and inbound upon itself in the world, which is complete and
completely separate from the larger world. This cultural continuum guarantees
that we must locate the position of all cultural orientations within its
range, and that the net value of a culture will not be determined in an
exclusive, internal sense, but by the critical conjunction between its own
corporate design and the larger external processes of the continuum itself,
and the world beyond the continuum. We can see human civilization as defining
the boundaries of this continuum, and recognize that the continuum itself,
though vast, is not unbounded within a larger world.
*****
However much we may deny otherness in the world, it is by
only by such otherness that we come to know ourselves in the world.
We cannot have a worldly conception of culture without at
least some kind of implicit comparison between cultural orientations. A
culture defines itself and its own identity not only terms of the
possibilities of its own development, but in its contradictions and relations
with other cultural orientations, which in definition are but realized
extensions within the world of alternate possibilities of itself. The study of
culture is always comparative, no matter how implicit such comparison may be.
It is only by contact with different cultural orientations beyond our own
boundaries that we are able to recognize the potential relativity,
spuriousness and transparency of our own cultural orientation.
Because we are frequently dealing with holistic constructs
which model the complexity of integrated realities, we must often approach the
comparative study of culture on the basis of "types" and reified
constructions which are but poor substitutes for the reality. We tend to reify
culture as something real in and of itself, rather than as just a conceptual
construction representing real historical processes and phenomenological
experiences. We may devise complex models to schematize our cultural
understandings, yet we recognize the lack of a non-relative basis upon which
to base such constructions. When we compare cultures, we lack any fixed
reference, non-arbitrary reference point to guide our comparisons. We select
traits on the basis of what we understand to them to be, often without
consulting the people whose traits they really are. We are thus involved in a
kind of reference, ascription and attribution of cultural identity that we
cannot do without and yet which will never prove to be correct.
We can speak of "basic culture" as what might be
construed semantically as "prototypical" of categorical human
culture. This comprises categories of cultural construction that are similar
to basic linguistic/semantic prototypes, and yet they remain basically the
substance and design of culture. Such elements and traits of culture tend to
be linguistically encoded in very simple, unelaborated terms. The category of
"chair" is quite unremarkable--it corresponds to its counterparts of
"color" or "tree"--and we recognize a chair as something
that is fundamentally cultural, even though not all cultures have had chairs
as a common part of their cultural universe. We should note that this
"basicness" of culture tends to correspond to what some would refer
to as "folk culture" to be distinguished from "high" or
haute cuture the elements of which tend to be marked in special and elaborate
forms.
We have demonstrated a near universal order of acquisition
of basic color terms, an order which is largely determined by culture and yet
which remains pan-culturally the same in design. We might speculate upon a
similar kind of universal order of "basic cultural categories" which
are prototypically convergent upon the same range of phenomena. In this
regard, we can expect some measure of statistical correlation and
corroboration of such convergence. We might eat with fingertips, leaves, chop
sticks or forks and spoons, but the bowls and plates we eat from are nearly
universal in their basic shape and function. We can also expect that from a
point of view of adaptive integration, such basic culture tends to be
practically oriented to matters of daily life and living, things that we take
for granted in the grand scheme of things. Their practicality may include
their expressive and symbolic value, if we think about all the things a simple
ring may bind together, or the tones made by a simple horn or flute.
There is no anthropological study of a group of people or a
cultural orientation that is not inherently a cross-cultural comparison. It is
the intrinsic comparability between cultural studies that constitutes the
primary ground for their empirical character. The empirical value of cultural
studies is not to be found in the descriptions of material contents or spatial
configurations--it is found by the comparison of similar and different traits
between cultures, the establishment of common correlates among cultural
configurations, or what has been called "adhesions" and the
measurement of their distribution in space and time. Though our comparisons
will always fall short of historical determination or scientific causality,
and though they may always be plagued by Galton's dilemma, we can nevertheless
see clearly the substantive, factive basis that the fact of basic difference
and identity establishes in the world. Traits cohere together and make sense
only in comparison with other sets and trait complexes.
The science of anthropology, if we are to speak of a
genuine and legitimate science, is rooted in its basic comparative research. A
study that does not test its conclusions within a cross-cultural context, no
matter how implicitly, remains from an anthropological standpoint incomplete
and scientifically inadequate.
We have not yet learned how to conduct or manage our
comparisons in the most productive manner, though we have made great progress
in the accumulation of a broad, cross-cultural data-base. We face the unsolved
problems of history, of encoder reliability, and the basic validity of our
comparative constructs and categories. Similar to the study of language, we
must see the history of cultural change as complex and dynamic, internally
driven along pathways of divergence or else independent convergence upon a
similar adaptive trait complex. We can also refer to the exogenous forces of
differential acculturation and transculturation that interrupt cultural
processes and redirect them.
It follows that the very boundaries that make possible and
mandatory comparison, also become the principle objects of such comparison. It
is through systematic and rigorous comparison that the boundaries and outlines
of a basic cultural orientation yield themselves before our observations. By
the identification of such boundaries in terms of basic difference and
correlation between cultures, we can gradually piece together rudimentary
range of our cultural continuum.
All such comparison is itself rooted in a basic presumption
of the common ground of humanity--what might be referred to as the
anthropological context or the human condition common to all people in the
world. In other words, all cultural orientations must satisfy on a daily basis
fundamental human needs and aspirations which all people share with one
another. All cultural orientations must define and appropriate a similar range
of basic resources that are considered vital to its survival, whatever the
environment in which it is situated. Cultures must establish and maintain a
dynamic equilibrium in the balanced reciprocities and relations between people
and between humans and their world. This constitutes a basic paradigm or
matrix for the instantiation of the range of variation among different
cultural orientations in the world, one that creates a common frame of
reference for our cross-cultural comparisons.
*****
We define our nature in terms of our culture.
Humankind is characterized by its world openness. Unlike
many other kinds of mammals, human beings lack any definite, clear-cut markers
by which we can identify the nebulous notion human nature. We lack the clear
instinctual patterns found among most other species. Instead we have evolved
to a condition of becoming in our growth and development critically dependent
upon the acquisition and mediation of culture by which to complete and bring
to maturation our character.
Culture becomes by definition those external forces and
factors which impinge upon our innermost being from the very beginning, and
which become internalized in place of instinct, to the point that they become
as if primary nature. We cannot therefore speak of a pure human nature totally
unadulterated by the influence of cultural conditioning. We only have to study
the few extant cases of feral children and children raised under conditions of
severe cultural deprivation to witness the helplessness and lack of order of
pristine human nature. But we can speak of humankind having evolved an
inherent, naturally based capacity for culture. Indeed a need and even a drive
for cultural acquisition, one which makes all children so curious and
interesting in the world. We can also speak of human-made, externally based
cultural elements becoming internalized as if they are natural, to the point
that our language, our appetites and aversions, our sexual preferences and
practices, our values, attitudes, beliefs, our feelings and our daily
behaviors, take on a force of habit that has almost the strength and the same
power of control as if fully developed instinct.
With the possibility of internalization of cultural
character as if human nature, comes the reverse possibility of the
externalization of bits and pieces of human nature--needs, drives, emotions,
behaviors--as if a humanly constructed part of the cultural world. The child
not only internalizes the life and life-world of the parents, but in the
process extends its own organic being into this effective environment to make
it intrinsically an extension of its own being.
The process of internalization is characterized by what has
been called subjective inevitability and is part of another process referred
to as primary acquisition, primary socialization and primary enculturation
and, from a psycho-social standpoint, primary identification. These are
different dimensions of the same phenomena. What characterizes all of them,
besides the sense of subjective inevitability, is that they involve a process
of deep embedding of behavior and thought, to a point beyond the influence of
mere habit or acquired patterns of behavior, to the extent that they become a
relatively permanent and subsequently unmodifiable part of basic human
character. Though fixed, they are not so complete as instinct would have it.
We can call this entire phenomena primary process and speak
of humans having learned things so well that it becomes more than second
nature if something just less that first nature. It is upon the deep-seated
level of primary process that we must seek explanations for many social and
behavioral phenomena, and solutions to many difficult and intransigent human
problems.
The point of primary process is that culturally derived
characterized are ingrained to the point of organic being, of even perceptual
experience in framing and modify how we relate to the world we inhabit. At
this level, people with different backgrounds may indeed experience, even see,
the world differently than others.
The principle of primary process explains a cycle of
culture and personality development that can be claimed to have largely taken
the place of natural evolution for humankind. We are no longer constrained by
natural selective forces, but have instead substituted an alternative kind of
developmental patterning in which there is a critical feedback between, on one
hand, the externalized world of culture and the internalized world of human
nature, and, on the other hand, the level of primary process and the
subsequent level of secondary social process.
As we internalize into our own character cultural based
traits, to the point that these become part of our primary being, we in turn
subsequently externalize into our cultural life-worlds that primary being, to
the point of critically influencing its direction of development. As our
characters become, with increasing age, increasingly fixed upon the level of
primary process, secondary process increasingly takes over in subsequent
influence upon our character.
The differences between primary and secondary processes are
roughly the difference between primary and secondary language acquisition.
They do not differ in kind or quality except that the former are characterized
by an inherent capacity or facility, almost an imperative, while the latter is
notably lacking in such a capacity. The primary level is the level at which
things are acquired organically, automatically and reflexively. Secondary
level things are acquired by force of habit and conditioning, but the effect
is far more ephemeral and far less complete than for primary conditioning. The
energy threshold for secondary acquisition is much higher and less
surmountable than for primary acquisition.
It can be said that humans are genetically programmed to
some as yet unknown extent for primary acquisition during critical stages of
early childhood.
Primary acquisition, having been deeply embedded, takes on
an unmarked and largely subconscious influence. It comes to constitute the
background of culture and personality out of which secondary process later
reconfigure human character. Primary acquisition is largely unadulterated and
does not compete with previously acquired traits, except perhaps at the level
of genetic capacities. Secondary acquisition must largely compete with and
take over space of primary acquisition.
The unmarked condition of primary process is important
because it goes on at a level that remains largely out of awareness. A large
amount of nonverbal communication can be said to occur at the level of primary
process, in an unmarked way. Remaining out of awareness, it is largely beyond
the normal purview of our conscious control. It remain largely taken for
granted, implicit, unquestioned.
Cultural constraint, at the level of primary process, is
largely the kind of indirect constraint that constitutes the cumulatively
decisive cultural context for the conditioning of human personality and
character. Primary process comes to control us. We rarely have the opportunity
to control our own innermost character.
It is most likely that subsequent external influence on the
level of primary process is likely to have critically disruptive effects, the
source of events or episodes or crises upon personality and social identity.
Attempts to alter and modify primary process of the adult personality are
likely to be met with a great deal of subconscious and indirect resistance,
negative reaction, and even failure, and may have expectedly yet largely
unpredictable end-results. This is true whether we are a well-intentioned
Psychiatrist trying to cure a patient of her/his childhood repression, or a
well-meaning Professor attempting to alter the behavior and character of one
of her/his prime students in a more professionally suitable manner.
It is at this level that we can experience, and account for
culture shock, and the problem of crossing wide gulfs or strong cultural
boundaries which separate different peoples in time and space. The resistance
and frustration we are likely to feel as an alien in an alien environment,
will most importantly be upon the level of primary process.
It is important to also recognize that our crossing of
boundaries in life, our passages, must be mediated in one way or another by
the critical presence/absence of a significant other. In early stages of
development, this is known as bonding. Later we refer to it as identification,
reference, friendship, modeling, and mediation or brokerage.
Basic cultural differences are to be found to exist mostly
upon the level of primary process. Upon this level different cultures are
pervasive and nearly total in the daily lives of its constituency.
It becomes vital that if we are to understand the influence
of culture upon character, and the influence of human nature upon culture,
then we must seek answers and evidence upon the level of primary process. From
a cross-cultural standpoint, we can see the great difference whether we raise,
in different cultural milieus, children to be independent or interdependent,
sociable or authoritarian, dominant-dependent or nurturant, responsible or
sociopathic, passive or aggressive, introverted or extroverted, open or
closed-minded, honest or deceitful, orally dependent or phallic, taciturn or
talkative, inbound or cosmopolitan, conservative or liberal, tolerant or
intolerant, hierarchical or egalitarian, physical, emotional or cerebral,
sympathetic or apathetic, violent or peaceful, sexually repressed or sexually
liberated, ego-centric or socio-centric.
It is important to recognize the multi-factorial structure
of the influences and factors that impinge upon the development of primary
process--many of which are beyond human awareness or control. We must
critically examine the long-lasting impact that widespread day-care may have
in critically altering the cultural character of its youngest generation. We
must reexamine the case of single parent households, early childhood
separation, foster parentage and adoption, the cases of aberrant or deviant
socialization. We must look at the deep intransigence of cultural ingrained
patterns to change or influence, as well as the long lasting influence larger
historical and social events can have upon subsequent generations of a
culture. We must look at the case of cultural inferiority complexes when a
minority group is subjugated and repressed by a majority group, and the effect
this must have upon the development of subsequent generations at the level of
primary process. We must examine the influence which a pervasive and
omnipresent electronic media may have at this level, whether intentional or
not.
We must see primary process for what it is, as something
paradoxically both beyond our control and yet remaining within the purview of
our power and our patience. It controls us while we try to change it.
It is by primary process that we can account for a large
substantive part of those anthropological relativisms that have plagued the
social sciences since their inception. Cultures caught upon different
historical trajectories have developed and come to transmit primary process in
fundamentally unique ways.
Part of the uniqueness of this primary process is that it
is a multi-factorial kind of thing, probably not accounted for by any single
or even minimal set of determinative factors. The kinds of historical and
social factors which input into it and the resulting character and cultural
patternings are not simply predictable or even commensurate.
This leads us to ask a central and important question, of
what exactly is primary process, and how does it occur. An important component
of this must be the organic program of early child growth and development, and
the many environmental factors that either enrich or stifle this growth and
development. The young child grows into the mold fashioned by the workings of
the cultural environment s/he grows up in. As the child grows into this
environment, extending itself in a ever enlarging circle of the larger social
self, the child also steadily incorporates much of this environment into
itself, such that it forms the basic templates from which all subsequent maps
and models will be derived, or compared or contrasted.
This process is stimulated from within with almost no
natural or built in resistance. There is a natural drive, a cultural
imperative, for acquisition which will prompt a child normally deprived to
explore and seek the nourishment it needs to grow with. A child seeks a
continuous challenge with life, at all stages and levels of sophistication and
difficulty. The challenges that children meet on a daily basis, and which
often defeat them, are obstacles that adults take for granted. Adults have
successfully met these obstacles and have incorporated them at a level of
autonomic reflex that they do not even notice them anymore in the same way
that the same things may become the center of the child's complete absorption.
What significance does the notion of primary process hold
for evolutionary theory of humankind. First we may say that the primary
mechanism driving human evolutionary development must have been the
development of this mechanism, and the unique set of circumstances allowing
for this development, which made possible to externalization of human nature
in the form of culture and which also made possible the internalization of a
rudimentary cultural environment.
We cannot ignore the long period of childhood socialization
and infant dependency, and the strong bonding between mother and child. It
that an extended period that may, in terms of primary process, never really
end, and one which renders the human being a socially dependent
creature--dependent upon the group for more than just satiation of hunger or
sexual drives, but to meet other symbolic, linguistic and affective needs.
These social needs have long remained without any necessary organic basis in
human survival and yet with many important organic associations and effects.
It rendered humankind vulnerable to the condition of the group--subject to its
ostracism and control, even to the point of its physiological wellbeing. It
rendered humankind continually anxious and capable of being easily subdued and
subjugated to the demands of the group. Symbolic forms took on a vital life
within the context of the group that had a strong impact upon the being. It
meant a permanent loss of innocence, and the beginning of a never ending quest
for independence.
It follows that if we are to institute social reforms that
will be effective in inducing social responsibility as well as greater social
equality. We will have to do so mostly upon the level of primary process, and
it will be at this level that our most problematic resistance to reform will
be met.
*****
Our conception of culture must take into account several
important facets. First, though cultures are most integrated, they are not
without significant contradictions. These contradictions as well as cultural
integration, are important to the understanding of the internal dynamics which
drive endogenous cultural change.
Cultures are also mostly functional in their integration
that is they are organized on the basis of achieving certain strategic
purposes in adaptation in the world. This functionality of culture occurs upon
all levels of its integration, and drives what may be referred to as exogenous
change.
Cultures are also symbolic in their integration, and it is
the curious amalgamation of their symbolic functionalism that is most
distinctive. Even the most practical and pragmatic tools and devices of a
culture have some symbolic value, and all symbolism has some material form in
which they are invested. Cultures are as much a worldview as they are a world.
They constitute a coherence system that allows people to make sense of and
adapt to their world. They provide a template that is superimposed in a
representational manner upon experience. The basicness and rootedness of
culture and its boundaries in our organic being, in our innate capacity for
cultural acquisition, accounts for the great conservative stability of
culture.
Nevertheless culture is subject to the forces of change,
both internally and externally. Cultures have for the most part been
self-organizing entities--they function structurally in an anti-chaotic
manner. The superimposition of one cultural orientation upon another, a the
diffusion of a culture, or inter-fusion of different cultures, are processes
which must be seen as secondary to the actual internal organization of basic
culture.
We can specify that cultural boundaries are maintained and
changed upon all levels of anthropological process, both from within in terms
of their incorporation of difference, and from without in terms of their
symbolic and functional value in relation to a larger world. Such internal and
external factors create a basic dialectic that fosters the kinds of boundaries
in our experience we recognize and refer to as culture. Internal dynamics
which result in cultural drift cannot be easily separated from external forces
of history which frequently come to play a predominant role in the
determination of cultural changes.
A comparative science of culture is not unlike a similar
comparative science of linguistics that lies at the core of culture. Certain
cultural processes exhibit an internal regularity that may be remarkable. Like
languages, all cultures must maintain some sense of internal closure and
boundary in the world.
We must also see that in terms of the functional
integration of a cultural orientation, is measured in terms of its relative
equilibration in the distribution of basic resources to humans and of its
human constituency to its basic resources. Many of these basic resources may
be culturally defined and determined--their locus within a specific cultural
matrix will depend upon a number of factors. But we may derive on the basis of
this, a basic functional formula for the relative integration of a given
cultural orientation, one that is multidetermined, and which may have
differential consequences in terms of the internal dynamics and contradictions
and the external, functional strategies and alterations. We can, for any given
culture, configure a general functional calculus in which the primary
variables are the distributive relations between people and their cultural
definition of basic resources.
XI
The Anthropology of Society
We are by nature social animals--in this we celebrate and
lament our human condition in the world.
If we substitute the static notion of "Structure"
which underlies social relations and organization, by the more active and
dynamic notion of "construction," we bring back to
"society" the many implications of its social history, its praxis,
practice, performance and process. Construction relocates the relevant
"structure of the conjunction" in the surface patterning rather than
in its depths and resituates human action and transaction in regard to human
interest, involvement, intentionality, and its counterfactual accounting of
unintended consequences.
We are left with a stage set by individual actors, each
guided by tradition-bound scripts that are improvised modified to fit the
uncontrolled dynamics of human dialectics and social relations. Social
relations are marked by a contradiction between reciprocity and asymmetry of
action. Social patterning, social relations, organizations and stratification,
are largely determined by processes of social production, power and resource
distribution. Social process is in a sense always in the present moment of
action--it is contemporaneous without a deep sense of history. It is both the
beginning and the end of the circle of the construction of reality, where the
actual act of construction takes place.
Social relations describe the character and volume and
differences in social interactions and transactions that occur at any given
moment. In social relations, we can distinguish analytically between the
processes of social organization and transmission--the former being seen
synchronically over space, the latter diachronically through time. Issues of
social complexity, circumscription and stratification are important
considerations in the calculus of social process. Cultural and social
processes are also dialectical--secondary social processes surround, reinforce
and cause change in basic cultural orientations. Part of what is socially
transmitted is cultural. On the other hand, cultural boundaries mark the
pathways along which social relations are possible or probable, and help to
define the character and nature of these relations.
.i.Social relations; have been a central determinant in the
anthropological construction of reality--these have largely driven historical
changes in social patterning, organization and "structure". This is
primarily so because social relations govern and predetermine the distribution
between people and their resources. This constitutes the basis for power in
society, and social relations constitute the social transfer and transmission
of this power as well. It is in this regard that the discussion of social
mobility and mobilization becomes important, as a sense of
"movement" within social relations--a movement of people, statuses
and resources.
Social processes have been throughout history as
destructive as they have been constructive, as competitive as they are
cooperative. Social integration has only been accomplished through increasing
stratification and status-role specialization within societies, and the
centralization and augmentation of destructive forces has only been increased
as a result of this integration.
*****
We know the world by how we are known by the world.
It is difficult to know if the appropriate way of studying
cultural process is analytically through nomothetic use of statistics and
analysis of social status and roles, or else through the use of biography and
corporate institutional history that will secure a greater sense of depth and
understanding of the background causes which set the stage for social action.
A science rooted in comparison must be based upon interpersonal differences of
status, role, resource, power, etc., but any such comparison is bound to be
limited and shallow if it fails to take into account the psycho-social factors
involved in the phenomenology of human interest and involvement;.
Psychological and individual identity and power are inseparable from social
identity and power--each lends legitimacy and efficacy to the other.
When we refer to "status-role identity" we must
understand how this secondary form of identification is vital to the adaptive
functioning and health of the individual in the world. The human is by
definition a social being who exists in the world of other humans. Who a
person is and how that person adjusts is largely dependent upon the socially
defined and contrained role that that person acquires in the world. Human
wellbeing is only possible in relation to the social processes of production,
performance and practice.
Thus there is a place for nomothetic statistical
comparisons in the study of society and social relations, but there is also a
great need for a phenomenological inquiry into the subjectively constituted
idiographic dimensions of social process. We properly refer to a
"structure of the conjunction" which occurs at the critical moment
in time and space, which we understand as a social "event," or
episode, or state of affairs, or moment of action. We can see society as an
interlocked web of series of events or states marked by transitions.
It is a wonder why, in our theories about our social order,
we are quick to explain social relations and organization as the result of
basic forces, but we are reluctant to confer upon social process the causal
primacy that may account for society and its many forces. In a sense, we need
to turn Hegel, Marx and Freud inside-out and understand that social relations
are not constrained by a material, sub-structural base, so much as they
constrain the construction of such a basis in the world. Aggression,
male-domination and a "cult of male superiority" may not account for
social gender stratification so much as be accounted for by it. Social
relations permit and constrain the limits and variability of personal actions.
*****
We measure our world by our places within it.
Human relation, or what might be called human social
relatedness, have not only changed in time, but they have evolved. Social
relations and human sociability has an intrinsic character and coherence about
them--they entail transmission and communication which entails the
disambiguation of internal contradiction or external conflict. Their character
is fundamentally different in the world today from what they had been in the
age of Rome, or in the time before human history. If today we speak of the
modern isolation and alienation of the liberated ego, we can refer to
ego-less, totally dehumanized identity of the slave in the time of Caesar who
nevertheless occupied a place in the classical cosmos.
In this regard we can refer to the relative "social
world" and "social world view" in which social relations are
situated at any particular period or place, and to the inherent social
relativity which characterizes the situatedness of people in the world. We are
born into a particular time and place, into a web of relations and sphere of
social action that we cannot escape. Though we will make many transitions in
the course of our life-time, we will always be surrounded by and engulfed
within a sea of humanity. The situation of one person at one point in time and
place, is quite unlike that of another person at some other point.
The paradox of this is that our only standards of
measurement and identity in the social world are based upon the comparison of
only superficially comparable, or else incommensurable realities. Though we
have no real basis in the judgement of others, we must act on the basis of
such judgements. Though we may refrain from such judgement or withhold it in
our relations with others, we are nevertheless constrained indirectly by
society in our capacity to make such judgements. We have no choice but to
adopt the standards and constraints of our society if we are to manage within
it at all.
Thus we are all constrained and ultimately determined by
our social world and our positions within it. Whatever we may choose to do or
to believe in, the consequences of such choices will be weighed in terms of
the social world. We can act to change our positions, and our social world, in
accordance with our wishes or expectations, but even these actions are
ultimately constrained and severely limited within the social world, and were
only made possible in the first place by the room that we were provided within
it.
I will call "sociality" the net measure of any
person's place within a social world, as a nodal point in a nexus of
relations, and as "societas" the net measure of the total field of
social relations at any moment in place and time. It is expected that though
both of these measures would show much turbulence in the local context, but in
the "structure of the long run" they should demonstrate a dynamic
stability upon some level of "criticality" which is related to the
self-organizational character of the total field of social interrelations.
Corporate, institutional social organization is itself defined within this
larger continuum of societas. The structural character of these institutional
forms which organize social relations into enduring patterns are an intrinsic
aspect of the self-organization of society which achieves local acceptance
states.
It is important in this regard that we seek to get away
from a structural model of human society as organized like a pyramid with a
base and a superstructure. Such a model has been an implicit and paradigmatic
design in a great deal of social theory. The centralization of power and
social relations accompanying social integration always occurs within a larger
field of social relations. Though there has been an increasing tendency
towards higher and more encompassing levels of integration, this process is
never complete or comprehensive, and always proves ephemeral and transitory in
the long run. It is always subject to the occurrence of "critical
events" which might bring about a dramatic reorganization or else
decentralization of the overall order.
There is a sense of indirect social relations, such that
the resonance and consequences of social action may be delayed or displaced
from the local context of its immediate social situation. We are forced to act
within situations without really ever knowing what the net outcome of our
involvement will be. Our acts may eventually rebound upon us as their
reverberations come full circle to visit upon our doorstep. We can thus define
a kind of social horizon based upon the situatedness of our social actions,
one that critically limits our ability to act in a larger context of social
significance. This horizon will itself be quite variable for different social
actors, with the span encompassed from one or another's position being much
more advantageous or of greater social elevation than others.
We can speak in this regard of strategic and tactical
positioning of people within the social system, by which people maneuver and
manipulate social relations in order to gain ascendancy and advantage within
the system of stratification. Such movement itself can either reinforce or
else destabilize existing social relations.
If we speak of the changing character of social relations,
we can also speak of the changing character of human social identity. The net
value and profile of sociality and societas will be distinctive and
historically relative. We might refer to the historical dialectics of social
identity and difference as being fundamental to the process of change in human
social relations. People enact their parts in relation to the relative
presence or absence of "significant others" who in turn react,
sometimes unpredictably.
When we refer to the dialectics of identity and difference
in social relations, we are necessarily referring to reciprocity and asymmetry
in social transaction, and to the institutionalization and secondary
legitimization, and internalization of these dialectics in the social
construction of reality. Society knows itself in terms of the stratification
and organization of diversity that accompanies social integration. We must see
in this regard that societas and sociality constitute basic functional
"models" and "maps" of social reality by which we navigate
in our world. These models orient us in the social world and provide us a
sense of direction within that world. They also provide us with a means of
making sense of our own social status as well as the social status of other.
We might refer to "class consciousness" or to
"social conscience" as basic dimensions of such models which
underlie our interpretation of social experiences and which serve to motivate
us in the field of social action. It might be referred to as a critical, if
embedded, awareness of our own and other's relative positions in the world,
which pre-structure our construction of reality via our social relations. This
form of social consciousness can be seen as humanly basic and pervasive in the
assessments and interpretations which we bring to our experience, bounded by
the horizon of our own situatedness in the social world.
There is an inherent tendency to defer the social realities
of our current situation and to displace the consequences of our own social
involvement in such a way as to foster a deceptive illusion of our own
legitimacy and moral efficacy in the world, often at the expense of other
people. People in positions of authority who are conceded even a modicum of
limited power over others, may quickly come to abuse such power in their
lording over of their subjects. These social psychological dynamics will tend
to be excused or over-looked in our social assessments, or framed within
paternalistic terms. Not only will the legitimacy of the underdog in a party
of such relations remain fundamentally ignored and implicitly denied, but
often such people become the hapless victims blamed for their own
victimization. People devise sophisticated strategies and rationales for the
justification of their position and behavior within a social world--especially
if the basic motivation for such behavior entails uneven advantage at another
person's expense. And we can construct external social worlds which will
reinforce stratification in such a way that a sense of contradiction and
discrepancy between our actions and our basic values arise only under unusual
circumstances, if at all.
We can thus speak of our psycho-social conscience as a
system for making coherent our world of social relations, and for dispelling
and dealing with a sense of contradiction or ambiguity which is bound to be
encompassed within such a system. This system is of course bound within a
cultural universe, and itself constitutes a constraint upon this universe.
This system is social because it is collective and shared by many others
within our social world. It is a socially embodied system. Roles and statuses
within the system come to acquire a symbolic value and an action potency. It
sets the common standards by which we judge people and their actions, and by
which we coordinate our own actions and attitudes. Whether or not it is
necessarily a vicious circle of deceit or a screen of obfuscation, it
nevertheless remains a cybernetic circle of meaning and action in the world.
As reiterated before, though such systems work to eliminate
a sense of contradiction or conflict within its social nexus of relations,
never are they completely without contradiction or conflict. All social
organization entails the incorporation of contradiction and the management of
conflicting, schismatic relations.
It can be said that a moral question mark always hangs over
the state of affairs of human society, a question rooted in the ethical
dilemmas inherent in human relationship, over reciprocity or asymmetry of
transaction. This question mark becomes only more critical if more diffuse
when it comes to the social institutionalization of corporate organizations.
This question-mark about moral legitimacy of human social order always
threatens to undermine the basis of human social relations. These questions
are tied up not only with the legitimacy of the social world, but of the
social world view which we have as well--with questions of its ethical
efficacy and philosophical status, with its validity and relevancy in the
world. Societies can provide simple "Solutions" to such questions,
by effacing all fronts of respectability or of moral goodness--but never can
we act in the world free of such questions.
XII
The Anthropology of Humanity
Ours is a world of moral dilemma we cannot escape.
If the view of the
anthropological construction of reality proffered within these pages teaches
us anything, it should be that we must learn to exercise extreme caution in
our judgements of the realities of others. Our sense of morality and ethics
are as much anthropological constructions of our reality as are any other
facet of our world. There exists no simple anthropological calculus or general
solution by which to make such judgments or by which to construct our world.
And yet we are always challenged by the dilemma of a moral imperative for
acting and yet to act within a vacuum of moral justification. And we must also
accept that anthropologically people are neither good nor bad, but are
intrinsically capable of acts that may be both evil and good in the world.
There is no person or social system that is without ambiguity or
contradiction. Humans are by definition the creatures of imperfection prone to
making mistakes in their constructions of reality. It is by virtue of our
vices that we have the opportunity to learn.
The principle moral call of anthropology has been one of
universal tolerance for human variation and difference, a call that is itself
relative in falling short of the "tolerance for intolerance".
Toleration for difference does not necessarily constitute by itself a
justification of evil and misanthropy in the world--it entails only that we
seek rehabilitation of the harm and its sources rather than nihilation or
vengeance. Those who confuse tolerance with indifference are themselves
morally confused and contradictory creatures.
For good reason, anthropology has been aptly characterized
as the most humanistic of the sciences and the most scientific of the
humanities. We are left to consider the question of anthropology as a humanity
as well as the humanity of anthropology. It is not enough to consider
anthropology as only a history, or as a philosophy, but as its own kind of
humanistic inquiry and its own separate form of humanity.
Anthropology as humanity values the human differences which
underlie all our illusions of identity, and thereby seeks the identity and
unity of anthropological difference in the world. It leads to an appreciation
of the common humanness and human condition in our world. An archaeologist who
discovers a ten thousand year-old baby doll in a child's grave has established
a strange bond with the human objects of his study. Our humanity is to be
found only in the buried realities of our world.
The construction of reality is inherently a human
construction of a human world. An intrinsic part of our humanness is that we
are morally and meta-ethically constrained in the world, whether we like it or
not. The Nuremberg trials taught the world of the universal efficacy and
legitimacy of the moral basis of our own humanity, the imperative of which we
cannot escape in our actions, the consequences of which violation must sooner
or later rebound upon ourselves in the world.
If we search for the source of such humanity in our being,
we must find it ultimately in the possibilities created by our own human
sentience that allow us to feel the feelings of others, and sense the meaning
of others places in the world. It arises from a recognition of the possibility
of our own error in the world--in short, it is a product that we have no
choice but to live within a world of our own making.
The moral efficacy of our humanity is thus intrinsic to the
very process of our anthropological construction of reality, whether we
acknowledge it or become aware of it or not. Moral dilemma is implicit to the
happenstance of our own anthropological contradictions in the world--part the
fact that we are coherent creatures who must make mistakes in order to become
more human.
It is possible to formulate a universal moral calculus
rooted in the social dialectics of human rights and responsibilities, of human
needs and resources. Such a calculus would yield a basic contradiction to
anthropological knowledge itself--the anthropological world has been mostly
one built of stratification and as=symmetry, with all its implications of
violence and promotion of aggression. Historical processes of modernization in
the mobilization of the earth's resources, with all the evils this entails,
are seemingly irreversible and inexorable. We can scarcely imagine no other
effective form of social integration which does not institutionalize or
incorporate some measure of asymmetry and violence in social relations. And
yet, somehow, we must resolve this contradiction in our anthropological
construction of reality, because morally speaking, we have no other choice.
An anthropology of humanity might begin with the premise
that all human construction is reality is oriented by some fundamental
contradiction which involves a basic moral dilemma. Every human situation,
every anthropological dimension, is morally constrained within this kind of
contradiction. The sense of contradiction, and the demands it makes in any
given context will never be exactly the same. Such incorporation of
contradiction will constrain anthropological processes in certain historically
decisive ways. Furthermore, we can speculate that each person's life is
endowed existentially with a central purpose, or a basic anthropological
"reason for being," by which, from a humanitarian point of view, we
can make sense of that persons life experiences.
XIII
An OUTLINE of a THEORY
of the ANTHROPOLOGICAL CONSTRUCTION of REALITY
The world reflects our image and resonates with our voices.
This chapter presents
in succinct form an outline of a theory of the anthropological construction of
reality that summarizes the contents of this book. It incorporates a number of
general theories which are found to be convergent in such an outline--a theory
of human language and the anthropology of language, a theory of mind and
meaning, a theory of human culture, society, a theory of anthropology in
relation to history, philosophy, science, academia. Any one part of this
theoretical construction could stand upon its own, but the broader perspective
of the anthropology of knowledge is sought for its thematic unity.
There is an inherently reflexive dilemma of an
anthropological construction of the anthropological construction of reality,
of the anthropology of knowledge about the anthropology of knowledge. We
cannot be too sure where our own theoretical construction of anthropology ends
and the presupposed anthropological construction of reality actually begins.
We begin by noting that this very kind of dilemma, of the anthropological
reflexivity of our knowledge about our selves and our world, is inherent and
inescapable to both our condition and our knowledge. We are human because we
understand ourselves thus, and our humanness is anthropological constructed in
such understanding.
Should we need to escape the horns of this dilemma of our
anthropological reflexivity? The fact of this dilemma seems to be a relatively
recent discovery in the march of anthropological knowledge--though it was
implicit in almost everything anthropologist did and thought from the very
beginning. We must learn how to live in the world of our own making, in the
contradictions inherent in it, without allowing those contradictions to take
over. Many believe that we cannot hope to have a genuine science of
anthropology within such contradictions, that a genuine, logical science of
anthropology must be necessarily a non-contradictory science. But how can we
have a non-contradictory understanding of something that seems inherently
contradictory. If it means that we can never hope to have a non-subjective,
totally "objective" science of anthropology, what some would dub as
"etic," then so be it, but this does not thereby preclude the other
possibility of building a subjective science, one that is "emic",
that is, by definition, a science of human subjectivity. It must be genuinely
asked why "the emic enema" should be such a threat to the world
order of so many anthropologists--except as a purgative for their intellectual
hang-ups.
In this regard, a theory of the anthropological
construction of reality is both consistent and coherent in making sense of the
contradictions that plague general anthropology in search for a covering law
or a genuine scientific identity. It is both comprehensive and systematic
because it explains a wide diversity of anthropological phenomena within a
unified theoretical framework, yet without the oversimplification and
reductionism that such theoretial unification usually entails. It is
productive both because it specifies directions in which to seek solutions to
specific problems, and also points to specific methods and empirical
procedures for doing so. But there is no need to promote the sale of a new
formula or theory for intellectual consumption by professional
anthropologists--it must succeed or fail by its own merits, or not at all.
*****
The anthropology of knowledge can be centrally
characterized by several elements. First, the boundaries of the anthropology
of knowledge are constituted anthropologically by the boundaries of human
knowledge itself. We learn about these boundaries by the empirical exploration
of what we do not know. Secondly, these boundaries are constituted internally
in part by the representational constraints that the facticity of our own
knowing places upon our knowledge of the world--we can indirectly infer these
constraints, but we cannot step directly beyond them. In other words, our only
anthropological windows upon the world constitute themselves our principle
"anthropological veil" which we must penetrate. The fact and
facticity of this veil is normally transparent and invisible to our
consciousness. The reflexive role of an anthropology of knowledge is to bring
this transparency and its distortions into recognition. Third, the status of
anthropological knowledge is situated within a all encompassing hierarchy of
determinations, which constrains all our scientific understanding of the
natural world, and must always be located within this hierarchy. Fourth,
anthropological knowledge is highly susceptible to certain informal fallacies
of understanding, namely reification, abstraction, reductionism and
anthropomorphization, which constitute the basis of central biases in relation
to which it becomes a central project of anthropological knowledge to liberate
itself of its own "centrisms." These fallacies stem from the
"mythological" substrate which characterizes all human knowledge as
symbolic construction, and it is the project of a science of the anthropology
of knowledge to demythologize its own knowledge in the understanding of its
principle object of inquiry, namely itself.
It is in regard to these anthropological
"horizons" of our knowledge that we can speak of the
"anthropological construction of reality" as a central theoretical
framework for the anthropology of knowledge. Where before we think in terms of
"structures," if we substitute the notion of
"constructions" we have a better sense both of their theoretical
facticity of the knowledge situated in our world, as well as of the basic
anthropological processes which underlie all knowledge in and about the world.
It is in this universal facticity of human knowledge that we find the common
basis of our being in the world. The anthropological construction of reality
holds that all human knowledge is perforce anthropologically
"situated" knowledge and thus is relative to the contexts of its
situatedness in the world. Another way of putting this is that all human
experience is intrinsically, organically, cultural experience (if by culture
we include language, Mind, society, etc.) and as such has been
anthropologically constructed in those special processes in which humankind
has made itself in the world.
The anthropological construction of reality involves
several dialectically interrelated and dynamic processes upon several levels
of human reality. We can refer to organic process, psychological process,
cultural and social process, and "trans-culturative" processes.
These processes combine in a holistic manner to constitute what can be
considered a complex dialectic of mutual, dynamic constraint.
The anthropology of knowledge is therefore interested in
the differential distribution of knowledge in the world which is the result of
these anthropological processes, as well as in the intrinsic constraints and
extrinsic reasons for this differential distribution. It also strategically
relocates the subjective, phenomenologically and psychologically constituted
experience of the individual human being, as the principle anthropological
knower, or ego, in the center of its theoretical framework, as well as a place
for biography, as the principle basis for the temporaneity ordered knowledge
of the individual in the world, and, in a broader context, social history, in
anthropological theory. We must deal, in the anthropological construction of
reality, therefore, with the related problem of the psychological and cultural
constructions of reality, and their interplay in anthropological processes.
The anthropological processes can be divided analytically
in their moment of constructive realization into three phases which correspond
to the human externalization into the world, the objectification and
reification of these externalized constructions, and then the subsequent
internalization and subjectivation of these constructions. Language figures
centrally in this entire process, and lies at the center of the
anthropological construction of reality. The organic foundation of language
allows for the embodiment of knowledge via language, and also for the
linguistic disembodiment of organic experience in the world. These phases of
anthropological process are analytically important in describing the
fundamental dynamics of its basic dialectical patterning between mind and body
and nature and culture.
*****
The anthropology of knowledge must have a philosophical
foundation--and the foundation constitutes the anthropological basis for
philosophical knowledge. Philosophy takes form around the dialectics between
rationalism and relativism, which doctrine it has most denied. Anthropological
knowledge is situated in and by its intrinsic relativity. We can refer to
anthropological relativity of knowledge as the foundation for the various
forms of relativity that we recognize. The problematic paradox presented by a
doctrine of relativism centers around its refutation of the received
anthropological notion of "the psychic unity of humankind", and the
positing of a priori, "universal" structures of Mind, language,
culture, society, truth, etc. Relativism is not inherently inimical to notions
of universality, but only to notions about their a priori, absolute and
unchanging character.
The doctrine of relativism, tied to the relational basis of
human knowledge in the world, and to a doctrine about the holistic character
of human reality, has long constituted a central tenet of anthropological
knowledge. It is on the basis of this refined relativism that we can find a
philosophical premises for anthropological knowledge and an anthropological
premises for philosophical knowledge. We can find the reason for anthropology
to be rooted in both a critical skepticism toward received "truths"
to reality, as well as in what can be referred to as the human imagination
which makes it possible to realize alternative possibilities and human
difference in the world. This anthropological imagination is shared by all
human beings in the world, no matter how it may be denied, and is what makes
of all people part time anthropologists. Anthropologists seek a special sort
of identity in the world--the kind of Identity that underlies and constitutes
the basis for human differences. This quest for knowledge is guided by the
fact that some differences seem to make more of a Difference than others.
Humans delight and celebrate the possibilities that such differences make in
their world.
*****
The anthropology of
knowledge must begin with the situatedness of anthropology within the confines
of a tradition-bound and authoritarian academic insitution. It must come to
terms with the departmental social dialectics and petty professional politics
which guide its research agendas, with the basic contradictions which are
rooted in academia between its function in a larger political economic
framework as a "mode of information" and the "user-pays"
dependency, and its commitment to the pursuits of genuine science and freedom
of thought. American academic anthropology is also saddled with the
competitive, authoritarian and egotistical American character that constrains
its own cultural dynamics in "critical" ways. Traditional
intellectual boundaries within Academia may no longer be the most flexible or
best boundaries for knowledge of the world--knowledge in the real world does
not necessarily reflect these intellectual boundaries--there is thus a
growing, critical need to encourage and develop means of interdisciplinary
integration. In this regard, we must see our cognitive models and maps as
based upon implicit cultural models which we may well be taking for granted in
our constructions of reality. In these regards, Anthropological could lead the
way, but ultimately its only real guide is our own intuition.
There is a real and fundamental difference between the Two
Cultures of Academia--two basic orientations which, in their mutual
dialectics, more often talk past one another than with one another. It is
vitally important that anthropological knowledge define itself in its own
terms, not in negative terms of what it is not or analogically in terms of
what it should be like. Anthropology suffers a double bind by being marginally
defined between the two cultures, thus a full fledged member of neither and a
potential traitor to both. It is of paramount importance that anthropology
come to form its own "Third Culture" which stands on its own,
instead of being merely a marginal science of the exotic and esoteric.
*****
Anthropology as History must be regarded as an important
dimension of its general problematic. The problem of history always serves to
compound our anthropological answers--whether this is Galton's problem or the
archaeological problem of "reconstruction" or the cultural problem
of seeing into the well of time that we call tradition. Our science of
anthropology would try to define itself a-chronically, as if time did not
interfere to complicate the basic patternings and sense of our human reality.
Anthropology and History share a basic relationship with one another in that
History deals with change and differences in time, where as Anthropology deals
with the equivalencies of the same phenomena across space. But time invites
change and change entails complexity. We superimpose evolutionary frameworks
as a substitute for the solution to the problem of History, but these
frameworks are spurious at best in regard to the past. Anthropological History
is not only natural history, but human history as well, and this sets up its
own problematic dialectic that no simplistic evolutionary schema can hope to
resolve. Though history is basically empirical in its orientation, it
nevertheless is not nor cannot be a "science" because of the
intrinsic inability to recover its primary phenomena of interest.
History is important because it is an inseparable part of
our anthropological construction of reality--to deny a person's history is
tantamount to a denial of their humanity and humanness. We share then, in the
depths of our past, a common history that unites humankind as of one family.
We can speak of history as human history, and as human-made history, and we
infer in this all the subjectivity that comes from the phenomenology of its
biographical experience. We replace "structures" and the laws upon
which they are presumed, with the processes and practices of
"construction", of which History itself is a part. From a
perspective of the anthropological processes of the construction of reality,
history can be seen to be a study of the patternings that these processes have
assumed in the past. We can thus see human history from the vantage point of
several different, interrelated levels--we have biographical history and
phenomenological accounts of "pathways of practice, we have social and
cultural history of human networks and traditions, involving institutional
histories of corporate social organizations.
There is no simple solution to the problems presented by
our human history. But there is recognition that the general principles
underlying the study of history have their own theoretical system that is
fundamentally different from the scientific study of natural phenomena.
*****
Despite the problematic of human history, anthropology must
still address the issues presented by "Human nature". Many
anthropologists bent upon turning their field of study into a positivistic
science see the common sense of basing such a science upon human nature, and
thus using universal laws of human nature as determinative of culture. The
result has been the propagation of so many specious "just so"
stories in anthropological literature that seek to explain everything from
human evolution to human social organization. The social dangers in terms of
its legitimization of unjust policies far outweigh their theoretical or
intellectual value.
This has been the case despite the fact that from the
standpoint of the anthropological construction of reality, human nature seems
by definition to have been naturally "underdetermined" and that this
indeterminancy of human nature made possible and even necessary the
construction of culture in the first place. We can even go on to claim that
far from nature underlying and explain culture, it is more plausible to regard
culture to a great extent underlying and explaining "human nature."
The point is that we cannot clearly separate where nature leaves off and
culture takes over, and the two have, evolutionarily speaking, growing
dialectically interdependent. If we wish to propagate our own "just
so" origin myths, then we must take this dialectical interdependence
between our culture and our nature centrally into account. In this regard, we
must see the evolutionary importance of human acquisition processes that are
organically embodied and developmentally controlled.
*****
We can bounce to the other extreme and speak of the
anthropology of Mind. The quest for the universal structure of mind that would
serve as the basic template for our cultural designs is about as hopeless as
the search for the sentient, conscientious and self-determining gene. There is
an anthropomorphic fallacy of strong artificial intelligence that believes
that, via the programming of "mind" we can recreate intelligent life
and living sentience in machines. But unlike our biological counterparts, an
anthropology of mind in the manner of Gregory Bateson remains relatively
unexplored in terms of its possible theoretical implications. The conception
of a universal Logos as an ordering principle of the both the cosmos and of
humankind, is rooted in our rational Greek tradition. There is a sense in
which science is based upon "natural information theory" and we can
properly speak of a "hierarchy of determinations" controlling the
design structure of natural systems. Human with their culture and their nature
share inextricably in this hierarchy of determinations, but we must see a
fundamental difference between the semiotic design of natural information and
the symbolic design of human knowledge. We must deal with a "World
View" problem that attempts to triangulate human meaning between
cognition, cultural construction and our language.
From the standpoint of natural systems theory, we must
consider the basic design features of human knowledge and informational
systems. An anthropological theory of Mind is necessary a theory of meaning
and its anthropological construction in the world. An alternative theory of
relational logic with its own functional calculus is proffered as inherent to
the design of human meaning systems. A relational system is one in which there
are no absolute anchor points, everything within the universe of the system is
defined in terms of everything else, and each thing has a dual value, of being
itself, and the net sum of its relationships with the universe. We must
further regard living systems, and systems of culture "as symbolic
transmission" and of human mind as "symbolic processing" as
formally complex and dynamic dialectical systems which are stochastically
adaptive to changes in its life-world.
*****
Language is central in the process of the human
construction of reality--it is central in the worldview problem and in the
human world itself. An anthropological theory of language must take into
account several fundamental questions about human language--it's dynamics of
change, its structural and systemic stability, its basic social functionality,
its central relationship in the "World View Problem", and the
problem of acquisition. A "functional-constructionist" theory of
language is proffered based upon a "holistic-relational" grammar.
Language change involves a maintenence of a boundary
between intrinsic, endogenous changes in language, what can be referred to as
linguistic "drift", which occurs upon all levels of language
process, and extrinsic, exogenous changes due to inter-linguistic contact.
Endogenous change tends towards disambiguation of meaning as it is
linguistically encoded, but leads to the formation of functional linguistic
boundaries, schismogenesis and divergence of language--what can be referred to
as linguistic fission. Exogenous changes tend tends to increase linguistic
ambiguity, but leads to processes of language convergence and
"fusion". The history of language is complicated by this dialectic
between internal and external sources of language change, thus any simple
evolutionary framework for the origin or basis of language is bound to be
superficial and probably in error except in local, limited cases. A language
boundary is set up, based upon a robust profile of its net processes of
change. The basic mechanism of change in either case is held to be the
stylistic variation that is rooted in the inherent flexibility and tolerance
for ambiguity in human language. Such flexibility is also the basis for the
functional power of language in its external social contexts.
Language structure must be understood holistically as
embedded in the context of its speech production. The notion of a universal,
abstract deep structure of language is one that is a reified residuum of our
own literacy. To the extent that language is a coherence system that depends
upon a boundary with the outside world, it is seen as integrated, and to the
extent that it is relatively integrated, it is holistically and relatively as
separate system. We must see language structure as a dialectic between several
levels--what correspond to the semantic, syntactic and pragmatic levels of its
patterning and structure-- on a basic "mimetic" level of its
signs--there intrinsic-extrinsic functionality which is organically encoded in
the brain. At this level we can speak of a continuum between implicitly and
basic, prototypical constructs of meaning, a range involving embedding and
elaboration of meaning, to explicit rules of "marking" and
definition which govern the differential deployment of terms and the
exceptions. The second level of syntax focuses upon a sentential and internal
level of sentence construction which constructively mediates between the
internal and external world, and which structure tends towards the
disambiguation of meaning based upon a basic relational paradigm and basic
transition rules which are implicitly encoded and which guide the possible
transformations available to any particular language. This sentential
construction of language is situated within ongoing external social contexts
that are discursively mediated. The construction of language above the level
of sentences is guided by functional considerations in the adaptation and
coordination of the individual in relation to the individual's life world.
This is the pragmatic level in which an adaptive equilibrium and linguistic
coordination is sought between linguistic and meta-linguistic levels. A large
part of linguistic, discursive process involves the elicitation of
internalized relational frames of meaning, their "testing" in the
world, and there reevaluation in relation to the world. We can speak of
language creating an "inner voice" of consciousness that is
self-monitoring in relation to external speech.
The social functionality of language has to do with the
mediation and legitimation of change in the world. Language is a social
phenomena, and cannot be properly understood outside of its context of speech
production. The power of language has to do with its relationship to social
change in the world--language, at the center of our construction of reality,
functions to integrate reality and to legitimate its integration. Language is
the glue of our construction of reality.
In terms of the worldview problem we cannot clearly
separate the centrality from language from culture and cognition. It is an
interdependent system tied together upon several levels. We cannot imagine a
world without language, nor can we think of a language without a world. The
function of language is to serve as a glue in the symbolic construction of
reality--it is the principle mechanism underlying human symbolization. Thus it
encodes meaning in the mind, and precipitates meaning in the cultural world.
It also refers back to itself. Language and its construction thus
"triangulates" meaning in reality within the worldview problem,
serving to situate it within its field of relative significance and salience.
Linguistic acquisition is the basic design of
anthropological acquisition. We must understand the evolutionary and cultural
importance in the formation of language in terms of primary acquisition of a
child. In this case, we might refer to a valid principle of "ontogeny
recapitulating phylogeny"--in all cases basic linguistic acquisition
remains the same, except that in original acquisition, the developed
linguistic structures were not yet in place. As adult language acquisition is
to a child's acquisition, so also are the child acquisition and creolization
process in the formation of new languages similarly related to the original
acquisition of language in humankind. The study of linguistic acquisition is
fundamental in understanding the biological foundation for language and its
development. We have been genetically preprogrammed for linguistic
acquisition.
*****
An anthropology of psychology is implied within such a
theory of language, and provides a ground for the understanding of some of the
questions about language. From the standpoint of the anthropology of
knowledge, we cannot have a psychology that is not necessarily a cultural and
a social psychology. And question of cultural context is the most problematic,
uncontrollable and complex for an empirical science of psychology. Such an
anthropological theory of psychology is rooted in a theory of meaning, and,
therefore of "Mind". Internal human psychology is governed by the
relationship between the Mind and the brain, and the mind and the body. We
have not a clear sense of what these relationships really are, of the
psychological organization of the mind, or of the nature of Mind. I propose a
theory of meaning that is encoded organically in the brain in terms of basic
prelinguistic constructs of meaning that I refer to as "mememes." I
refer to a mimetic system of the brain that is implicated in human memory
organization. This is enmeshed in a systemic hierarchy of the Mind, and
includes several systems arranged in an ordinate manner. The linguistic and
mimetic systems are interdependent, such that a great deal of meaning depends
upon its linguistic encoding in order to be precipitated in consciousness.
Psychological experience is inherently phenomenological process and therefore
temporaneity. It is thus subjective and biographical in character. The basic
symbolic linguisticality of experience entails that there is a fundamental
ambiguity and paradoxicality about it, since this linguisticality is itself
phenomenological, and yet constitutes its own contradiction in its
non-phenomenological constitution.
In this regard we can speak of the psychological
construction of reality, as basic to the process of the internalization,
subjective instantiation and embodiment, and the identification with
culturally constructed forms. The systems function in an integrated fashion to
produce a characteristically human sense of anthropological ego-identity--an
identity that is critically situated in a world that is primarily socially and
cultural constructed. Psychology is itself a theory about subjective human
identity and identification, and individual and cultural psychology involve
the process of subjective and strategic identification and
"location" in world. Such theory of identity entails theories of
attribution, ascription and attitude that are fundamental in our psychological
construction of reality. Psychological identity is inherent in human meaning,
in that we "identify" some elements as significant in relation to
our experiences. Some basic theories about identity are fundamental symbolic
systems--mythology, religion, ideology, worldview and common sense. These
theories are essential in reinforcing the psycho-social integration of human
experience. This form of identity is holistic, and wholly human. Such identity
and its symbolic processes of identification are complex and have many
consequences for the construction of reality.
Human identification as an anthropological process in the
construction of reality goes on simultaneously and dynamically upon many
levels of experience.
*****
In regard to the psychological construction of human
reality, the anthropology of abnormality becomes an important consideration.
Abnormality can be thought of as a critical discrepancy in the processes of
identification, such that there results a symbolic "disintegration"
of reality. We lack a non-relative and non-arbitrary theory of
"normality" and "abnormality". We cannot properly speak of
"normality" outside of a normative context. Yet we can speak
relative abnormality from an implicitly functionalist perspective which deals
with the relative integration of reality at all levels of anthropological
process.
It is by comprehending "abnormality" that we can
define the boundaries of what is anthropologically speaking to be regarded as
"normal". We can properly only understand "abnormality"
then in a relative context of alternative states of what is normal. The
presence of alternative states of normality relativizes what is normal, such
that it is the differential and transition between such states which becomes
anthropologically significant as "abnormal". Transition and
transformation is the main adaptive function of integration by which we
understand normal as "healthy". The crossing of cultural boundaries
that precipitates a condition of "culture shock" is a form of
anthropological abnormality.
We lack a systematic theory of group pathology and of
cultural and social abnormality. We construe almost the entire phenomena of
abnormal experience as psychologically based, and therefore we burden the
individual almost entirely as the source of abnormal adaptation. We can infer
that social pathology and cultural archosis involves states of transition and
symbolic disintegration--what was referred to in relation to Vietnam as
"desymbolization". Such disease can become institutionalized and can
serve as a support mechanism for individuals disturbed by some form of
pathology or personality disorder. We can speculate that social
authoritarianism and authoritarian power structures are such instances of
institutionalized pathology.
There is a sense in the anthropological construction of
reality that symbolic abnormality is a necessary "anti-structure" in
the reinforcement of normal experience. Destruction of reality is to be seen
as an antithetical and dialectical counterpart to the construction of reality.
*****
From this standpoint, we can redefine our conceptual
construction of culture from the standpoint of symbolic "boundary"
which is phenomenologically defined at all levels of our experience. Because
it is phenomenologically experienced, we can bring the subjective self as
central actor in culture, and biography as historical experience, back into
focus in our conception of Culture. Boundaries are never fixed for very
long--they define a complex cultural calculus that comes to rest at some
central point of balance. Boundaries are flexible, permeable, and changeable.
They are, in short constructed. Such cultural constructions are made in the
context of a larger cultural continuum. We know ourselves in relation to
differences and possibilities of others.
We must understand how basic cultural patternings and
boundaries can become organically embedded and embodied in our experience in
such a way as to be reflexive and construed unconsciously as an vital,
inviolable part of our basic being in the world.
It is the basic boundary underlying our conception of
culture that entails our anthropological science of culture shall be a
basically comparative approach that seeks the identity of difference in the
world.
*****
There is nothing human in the world that is not without
contradiction.
Given a rehabilitation of the concept of culture as not a
bounded, timeless circle, but as a boundary of phenomenological process, we
are led to a revision of our sense of society as not a "structure"
but as a process of "construction", a performance, a practice.
Society becomes a field of human interrelationships which are symbolically
mediated, and which are functionally structured in relation to the
distribution between human beings and culturally defined resources. We are led
to a basic form of social relativity in which our identity and our view of the
world is largely defined by our social position within it. We attempt to
manipulate and change our positions, but always within a larger field of
unintended consequences. We are always constrained and situated within a
larger context of a social field that is itself enmeshed in a dialectic
between social construction and destruction. We construe our social identity
and mediate our social relations in symbolic terms. We are also enmeshed in
the dialectics of social identity, defined as status-role identity, and
difference. Social relations are defined by the dialectics of reciprocity and
relative asymmetry of relation.
*****
The possibility of human perfection is rooted in human
imperfection.
Finally, we can conclude with a reconsideration of
anthropology as humanity. It offers us a view of humanity that is neither
inherently good or evil, but is capable of both. Our humanity is defined by
our construction of reality, and the sense of identity that we bring to this
construction. We are nevertheless constrained by a human dilemma of our basic
moral being, intrinsic to the very nature of our human sentience that allows
us to imagine the possibility of our own evil and of the suffering of others.
Whatever we do in the world, we are implicitly acting under this moral
umbrella constituted by our basic humanity--we cannot escape its imperative in
our any of our actions, and it is in terms of these that we shall ultimately
be judged. All construction of human reality incorporates basic contradictions
in the integration of reality. Anthropology as humanity has the purpose of
discovering these basic contradictions and their moral calculus in any given
context or event. By it, we define the "reason for being" of our own
identity, both personally and collectively.