Anthropologos
Essays upon Anthropological Knowledge
For the Phoenix
and the Liberation of Sen Ha
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)
I turn another page of my book
As I glance into your dark face
At first I see my informant's funny look
With tears in the corners of yellow, bloodshot eyes
I turn to the next page
And I look again into your face
To find the lines of lost youth
The wear and tear of age
And the blemishes of another life's vicissitudes
Beneath the rosey blush
And the blue-green mascara
Brushed feintly over epicantic folds
My informant no longer appears tearful
And a smile soon breaks upon the swollen purple lips
Covered by glossy red lipstick
Revealing a mouthful of crooked white teeth
I turn the next page
Then I look again into your face
And find dark eyes of sadness
A puffy cheek that's been abused
A bump upon a low forehead
And scratch marks around the neck
My informant's face is hiding her troubles
Behind an innocent smile
Beneath the front of feline grace
Yet another page
I once again peer into your face
And there I find beneath the feminine mask
The tell-tale signs of advances you wish to make
A silent question you are too afraid to ask
Symptoms of suffering you cannot fake
There the lonely look of a lost child
Longing for the warmth of a dead mother's embrace
The image of a young adult grown suddenly old
From a new page
I see into my informant's face
A foreign past full of strife
Without the full flowering of life
In a world you've somehow missed
And again the next page
I look again into my informant's face
And there discover a touch of my own humanness
I peer into the puffy red eyes of my informant
And find the small reflections of my own face
In the black orbs of a dark distorted world
As I turn another page
I look back into the eyes of my informant
That look back through a world of lies
And there I finally find you looking into my world
I come to the last page
I look one last time into my informant's eyes
And there at last I find my friend
Waiting patiently at the other end
For me to finally close my book
Contents
Introduction
The Dialectics of the Anthropology of Anthropology
Part
I
The Anthropology of Science
The
CORNERSTONES of ANTROPOLOGY
SCIENCE
and HUMAN REALITY
Toward an Authentic Anthropology of Science
SCIENCE
and SENSE
Scientific Consensus and Anthropological Complexity
ANTHROPOLOGICAL
SCIENTIFICITY and SCIENTISM
ANTHROPOLOGICAL FALLACY
Formal, Informal and Unusual
ANTHROPOLOGOS
Science or Humanity?
The
POST-SYNDROME
Above and Beyond Anti-Anthropology
The
ART of ANTHROPOLOGY
Heretical Humanism in the Field
Part
II
The Anthropology of Knowledge
The
ANTHROPOLOGICAL CONSTRUCTION of REALITY
ANTHROPOGENESIS
The Origins of Humankind
REDEFINING
ANTHROPOLOGICAL PROCESS
Anthropology at the Critical Juncture of Past and Present
ETHNO-CULTURES
Emerging Anthropological Categories
RELATIVITY,
RELATIVISM, WORLDVIEW, MIND, BRAIN, CULTURE, the Structure of Complexity
and other Dangerous Anthropological Questions
CULTURE
and CHARACTER
The
OTHER in US
And Ourselves in Others
HUMAN
BEING and BECOMING
Part
III
The Anthropology of Humanity
TRANSCULTURATION
The Historical Process of Human Civilization
EARTHBOUNDNESS
and ANTHROPOCENTRISM
Beyond the Bounds of Anthropologos
WORLD
CAPITALISM, CULTURAL ECONOMIES
Some Unasked Questions of Human History
HUMAN
RIGHTS and RESPONSIBILITIES
The Development of Human Resources
MISANTHROPY
And the Anthropology of Evil
PEACE
and POWER
Anthropological Challenges of Our Future
Introduction
The Dialectics of the Anthropology of Anthropology
Anthropology needs the world, whether or not the world needs
anthropology.
This collection of essays treats general topics of
anthropology. The essay form presented in this collection is meant to be
exploratory. Short in length, treating focally some central topic deemed
important in general anthropological perspective, grouped thematically into
larger sets, this essay form is particularly fitting to anthropological
textuality and discourse, and deserves its own place among longer manuscripts,
monographs, journal articles, and reviews. The essay comes out of the academic
side of Anthropology--remains the primary form for representing of key
readings in many anthropology seminars, embedded as these usually have been
within larger texts, and it would not be too far-fetched to claim that many
important anthropological insights began within a stack of student essays upon
professors' desks.
These essays are meant to be experimental and creative. If
they violate certain cannons of literary style or certain codes of
professional discourse, they do so with the deliberate intention of bringing
into question the modern, immediate necessicity of many of our literary or
profession-bound prescriptions. In written style and form of presentation,
they are meant to be novel and not just a stagnant rehash of interminable
coursework or of the general anthropological literature borrowed off the
shelves of some university library.
They were written during a time when anthropology as an
academic institution; has been passing through some rather fundamental and
far-reaching transitions. The larger socio-political environment has been
increasingly hostile to anthropology. Underemployment, long term joblessness,
and the attendant social anomie, have become an expected part of the average
student anthropologists' career trajectory. The anthropologist's world itself
has been radically changing, and it sometimes seems as if little room remains,
either at home or abroad, for the academic creature called the anthropologist.
I would say that anthropology is indeed a science, a human
science, one with such vigor that it does not need to harness itself to any
narrow positivistic or naturalistic framework. If anthropology suffers in the
world today, it does so alongside a suffering world. If anthropology falls
short of funds and recognition in the academic ranks, then its practitioners
have only themselves to blame--the pursuit of their own narrowly defined
professional involvements at the expense of any larger good of the
anthropological community. It has always been up to anthropologists, both
personally and professionally as a community of scholars and scientists, to
provide a place for themselves in the world whether the U.S. government offers
them funding or not.
The principle dilemma confronting anthropologists today is
to come to terms with, both theoretically and methodologically, a changed and
rapidly changing world, without selling itself out as a change-agent of the
world, and from a more philosophical perspective, to learn better how to deal
with the general problem of change in the World. If anthropologists fail to
change with the world, the world will surely go on changing without
anthropologists.
It is a paradox that though the place of the anthropologist
in the world has been changing and in many ways diminishing, the real need for
a more realistic anthropological perspective in a world facing its greatest
historical dilemmas and problems centrally tied to global human overpopulation
has only increased. The world is rapidly growing to need more anthropology,
whether it needs its anthropologists or not.
*****
Anthropology is an on-going, professionally circumscribed
dialectic about the science of human reality. It had its birth in the contact
with alien peoples and their strange lifeways. Like all such kinds of contact
between different peoples, it tended to erode and eventually undermine any
monolithic, universal charter for our view of how we see our selves and others
in the world in relation to us. Contact brought about the need to understand
basic differences and different identities. Such contact was the
cross-cultural equivalent of a major paradigm shift--for the quirks and
oddities encountered in the world could no longer be neatly fit within a
Eurocentric version of the world, and still lay claim to the title of
"empirical science." As usual, stereotypes, labels and patent
falsehoods which commonly accompany any chauvinistic, ethnocentric point of
view hide more than they reveal, and so soon become no longer adequate means
by which too realistically comprehend our world.
The dialectic of Anthropology continues today, much better
informed, more specialized and compartmentalized than before, and yet one in
which the very intention of the inquiry is, implicitly and often unwittingly,
to undermine the basis for its own legitimacy. For contact is always a
double-edged sword, no sooner do we learn to interpret and accommodate human
differences within our world-view, then the very foundations of that world
view come crashing down around us.
The object of anthropology as science has always been to
bring into critical focus the very foundations of its own premises--to come
into contact with the "strange," to render the strange
"familiar" through a process of reinterpretation, and in the process
to reflexively make the familiar "strange," and to excoriate and
elminate the hidden ethnocentrisms and biased presumptions in which its theory
and praxis is cast.
As the dialectic continues, between what one anthropologist
has referred to as the collectivizing orientation of the "invention"
of Culture and the "relativizing" counter-process of the
"discovery" of cultures, anthropology has been building a kind of
trans-cultural, pan-human bridge between the gulfs separating peoples and
their realities and relativities. Ideally, this bridge provides a kind of
value-free, neutral ground upon which differences can be mediated, on which
different peoples, separated by time, place and social difference, can meet
peacefully, and equally, on common ground.
We have built our bridges without recognizing them for what
they really are--and we have always been quite ready to burn them down at the
first sign of trouble. But the work of bridging continues, as the dialectic
unwinds itself in increasingly complex convolutions, and know it or not,
greater gulfs separating people have no been spanned in the name of
anthropological science.
Anthropology's claim to science rests in its strong,
broad-based emphasis upon empirical observation. Anthropology as an empirical
science will remain long after all the theoretical castles have been razed. It
does not matter so much what form we choose to encase our experience in. It is
the anthropological experience itself that will remain of greatest importance,
whatever theoretical script it may have been conceived and written in. From
the standpoint of anthropology as an empirical science, one good descriptive
metaphor is worth a thousand words of definitive explanation.
A strong emphasis upon empirical observation would seem to
make anthropology primarily an inductive discipline, and the word
"observation" would tend to deemphasize the subjective component of
the process of participation. But humans can intuitively observe with their
feelings and feel with their observations, and feelings may be no less
empirically relevant than observations. Furthermore, anthropology claims a
broader-based view of science as a discipline than what our philosophical
models of inductive and deductive theory allows for. We may say instead that
the dialectic of anthropology remains essentially abductive, but in a
self-realizing, apperceptive and critical way.
Before we delve more deeply into the dialectics of
anthropological discourse, it is important to note that the terms of the
dialectic are not so important as the dialectical process itself. We can
engage in an on-going question and answer dialogue about the nature of human
reality, all the while keeping in mind the fact of the dialectic itself.
Anthropology as science holds as its principle object the
description and explanation of human reality. Enhanced realism is the main
point of anthropological inquiry. Such realism brings with it its own
Pandora's box and its own price tag. We must be willing to regard our selves
and others in the world without the help of our sacred illusions, without the
deceptive veil of our ideological beliefs or our most fundamental mythoi. Some
would say that the price to be paid is the price of reality itself--perhaps
too great of a paradox for mere human mortals. We must walk among the
mountains of gods while remaining tethered to the common human ground of our
own being. back
1
The CORNERSTONES of ANTHROPOLOGY
Anthropology is not constructed of cards upon clouds.
Anthropological knowledge is characterized by four
foundational principles--holism, comparativism, relativism and empiricism.
Whatever else anthropology may or may not be, it can never escape the
consequences of any of these four concepts and still remain genuine
anthropological science. These are implicit presuppositions of all
anthropological method and theory, and they reflect together a general
attitude and approach to human reality that is characteristically
anthropological.
It nevertheless remains true that the four precepts stand
in uneasy relation, and in frequent oppostion, to one another. A comparative
approach often demands an analytical orientation that may defy the attempt at
holistic comprehension, while the attempt at holism sometimes runs counter to
empirical experience. Relativism and comparativism have always been cast in
dialectical opposition to one another, even though each implies and
necessitates the other.
No matter how native an anthropologist may become in the
process of his learning about another culture, the anthropologist nevertheless
continues to compare the foreign culture with his own, even if on an
unconscious level or in a tacit manner without her/his awareness of it.
Comparison is, on a basic, unmarked level, part and parcel of all
ethnography--even the most emically contrived and subjectively delivered.
Comparativism is inherent in the structural relationship between the
anthropologist as observer and the "native" as observed. It is by
comparison that anthropological understanding is achieved, and without it
there could be no systematic construction of a science of human differences
and idenitities.
Paradoxically, comparativism requires
relativism--comparison cannot be realistic or successful without shedding our
own ethnocentric biases that preclude our attempt to understand others.
Relativism allows us to embrace other realities in such a way as to make the
possibility of comparison, and by implication, translation, more of a
realistic likelihood.
In a similar way, holism stands in contrast to
comparativism and is required as well by relativism. Relativism entails that
the relationships prevailing in a situation are somehow intermeshed in a way
that cannot be easily separated. We speak of cultural integration of different
institutions, practices and beliefs and see that change in one area may result
in reverberations in many other areas. Similarly, we seek explanation for a
particular cultural phenomenon not in terms of a single proximate cause, but
in terms rather of a background of conditioning interrelationships which make
the phenomena a possibility in the first place.
A strong emphasis upon empiricism entails that holism
cannot be a purely rational affair of eidectic conceptual structures removed
from the source of their experience in reality. We can generalize about basic
structures of human action or social behavior based upon a handful of assorted
examples, but when we hypothesis at a higher level of generality we cannot be
too overly confident that our limited samples are enough, or are
representative of the universal pool of experience. It is this single feature
which keeps anthropology a science tethered closely to the ground.
*****
A strong and strict empiricism has been one of the
unacknowledged cornerstones of scientific anthropology's theory and method.
Whether we are noting etic blinks or understanding emic winks, it is the act
of encoding experience, a first-hand encounter with the world, and the primary
weighting of this source of infomation over all others, which is the hallmark
of anthropological research and which makes ethnography scientific. Our own
theoretical or operational rationale does not matter so much, whether we are
materialists or idealists, as does the consideration that we are to some
extent, in some imperfect manner, engaged in the world, involved with it,
seeking to learn about it first-hand.
Perhaps this empiricism has been so obvious in anthropology
that its implications have mostly been taken for granted. Almost everyone
would agree on the value of doing sound empirical research, although many
would disagree on exactly what constitutes sound empirical research. And it
does not matter what kind of anthropologist, all would hold as of primary
importance first-hand observation in anthropological research.
To call anthropology an empirical science is not to claim
that it is necessarily inductivist versus deductivist, or that it has its
origins in the empiricist philosophers. It is this primary valuation of
empiricism that anthropology as a science shares with all other genuine
sciences. Anthropology, like any other science, must derive its knowledge and
understanding from the world first and foremost.
The empiricism of anthropology and of science in general is
largely an epistemological and an ontological proposition about reality and
how we can know the world. It holds scientific knowledge to be essentially
presentationalist, as opposed to representationalist, and that all such
knowledge is derived primarily from the perceptual experience with the world
which is independent of our awareness, separate from our own subjectivity.
Such a claim does not deny the fact of subsequent
distortion of knowlegde, or the secondary bias and reinterpretation of
experience by representationalist structures of the mind, or that our
experience of the world, even in its primary form, is constrained in critical
ways by the limitations of our senses and the prejudices of our awareness. But
the possibility remains of a relatively unbiased, "objective" view
of reality which it is science's purpose to achieve, and even though this view
itself might be from a theoretical point of view quite representationalist and
derivative, it is held to remain fundamentally rooted to the basic percepts of
common human experience.
This brings to bear another significant point about the
empirical basis of anthropology--that is that all such basic knowledge must be
"public" knowledge--open to view and subject to multiple evaluations
and the critical process. It must be communicated, or at least communicable,
and it must be shared, or capable of being shared, between many different
people. It cannot be privileged knowledge available to only a select group of
people--all women, only to Americans, black only--nor can it be secret or
specialized knowledge privy only to an insider's access.
It is precisely because the phenomenon that it reports upon
are open to public scrutiny, that such knowledge can claim the possibility of
being presentationally real and empirical. It must also be the case that all
such knowledge must remain open to evaluation and scrutiny.
This brings to bear a basic paradox of the inductive
character of science as an empirical enterprise--no matter how many white
swans we may count, we can never be finally satisfied that the next swan will
also be white. In such an inductively based enterprise, we can never take the
last logical leap of faith in our ascent from the particulars to the general.
Whereas deductive approaches can fall back upon the power of logic, the best
science can hope to do is to provide a statistical measure of relative
certainty. But the virtue of this is that our deductive rationality is liable
to fail us where and when our statistical methodology will not.
Much lip service has been paid to the hypothetico-deductive
method, especially in the advancement of the "natural sciences,"
without recognizing that the whole hypothetico-deductive approach must still
rest upon an empirical substrate in science. The first and last referents of
any hypothetico-deductive approach must remain empirical, or empirically
derived, if the approach is to have any broader scientific relevancy.
*****
Just as the empirical spirit and nature of science has so
often been over looked, so also has the basic instrumentality of science and
the role of scientific instrumentality in the advance of scientific knowledge
been largely left implicit and taken for granted.
By the instrumentality of science is meant something
different than "scientific instrumentality"--though
"instrumentality" for both carries a larger set of connotations
which describes a general orientation and overall approach within science. The
instrumentality of science refers to its practical orientation and emphasis
upon real, measurable results. If it works then its probably scientific.
According to Thomas Kuhn, the measure of scientific advance and of
paradigmatic unity for a field is its achieved progress written in terms of
its past track record. But in this we must separate the idea of an empirically
based instrumentality from the kind of ideological instrumentality which
Gadamer treats and which underlies such sciences as capitalist or marxist
economics--the self-fulfilling prophecy of historical scientific demonstration
after the fact. The instrumentality of science must be demonstrated in a field
of counter-factuals--of contenders that rise to discredit and disclaim a
theory. In other words any theory must successfully compete against other
alternative contenders. Kuhn also refers to the "puzzle-solving"
character of the scientific enterprise. The instrumentality of a science is
its ability to successfully solve the problems which are defined by the
scientific community as relevant, and these solutions are governed by a kind
of selective regime in which there tends to be a more "correct"
solution, which solves more "problems" or more sides to a problem,
than other contenders. The correctness of such solutions can only be seen as
"limited case" solutions which exist temporarily within the purview
of the current or predominant scientific paradigm. New information encountered
upon the margins of the paradigm accumulates to undermine the correctness of
the current received scientific explanations, and open the field for yet
another round of competition and debate. The selection of a newer theory will
rest upon its demonstrated "instrumentality" in being able to
account for and accomodate the newer exceptions to the older paradigm. The
other side of the paradigmatic coin is the instrumentality of received, tried
and true "shared exemplars"--those archetypical test cases upon
which a particular theory rests as a demonstration. From a theoretical point
of view, there is nothing which is prototypically or monolithic about a
"shared exemplar"--it is rather a polythetic set of examples or
models which serve as heuristically powerful and productive orienting models
for subsequent scientific research. One common characteristic of shared
exemplars seems to be their heuristic productivity in generating a host of
derivative corollaries, spinoffs, questions and solutions to minor problems
which becomes part of the footwork of a subsequent generation of "normal
scientists".
The idea of shared exemplars brings into focus the notion
of scientific instrumentality. New ideas, discoveries, inventions and
techniques allow us to see things in new ways, and to rethink old problems.
Often new advances must await the development or refinement of new means for
seeing or observing reality at a distance. The indirect observation and
measurement of discrete phenomena, beyond the bounds of normal human-sized
perception, has had to await the development of techniques and technologies
which have pushed back the frontier of our perceptuality. Exceptions our
counterevidence which accumulates upon the periphery of our predominant
paradigm often does so because of the detailed refinement of such scientific
instrumentalities, and the collapse of the old paradigm and the possibility
for a new way of seeing reality is made possible because of the same
refinements in scientific instrumentalities.
The instrumentality of science and scientific
instrumentality must be seen as going hand in hand in the achievement of
progress in science, and are thus two sides of the same scientific coin of
"instrumentality" in the general sense of the kind of practical,
pragmatic, common sense, result-oriented, technical habits of the
"scientific mentality." Put another way, what works in science is
what proves to be "Instrumental" in the advancement and production
of scientific knowledge--that which is not scientifically instrumental is
usually regarded merely as "trivial."
It has been this instrumentality of science that has
guaranteed that its practitioners must be something more than ivory tower
armchair philosophers of the world. It placed a premium upon empirical
demonstration and upon the heuristic productivity of knowledge. In this
regard, we cannot clearly separate the philosophy, or the theory, or ideology
of science, from its praxis or its practical side.
*****
The perennial quest for universals underlying human culture
has been one of the primary theoretical concerns of anthropological science.
Different kinds of universals have been proposed, some a little less arbitrary
than other kinds. But no completely satisfactory set or theory of such
universals has yet been discovered or defined in spite of decades of
cross-cultural research, and for many the search, perhaps misled from the very
beginning, has been all but abandoned.
And yet there remains something intuitively and hauntingly
intriguing and reasonable about the concept of human universals--something
strong and stable upon which we could build our science of humankind.
The notion of universals comes squarely up against the
paradoxes of cultural relativism, and "anthropological science" as a
quest for universals and anthropology as a relativistic orientation toward
humanity constitutes a fundamental contradiction within anthropology. On one
hand, we are supposed to seek an insider's perspective in the appreciation of
foreign world views and values with the understanding that there may be no set
of universally shared values or world-views free of cultural bias. On the
other hand we are told to find a common language of translation, a universal
language of anthropologese, which will allow us to adequately reinterpret the
cultural codes of any point and place into our own language of choice, without
loosing anything which may be of substantive, indeed vital, importance. As
anthropologists, we are supposed to be able to entertain some privileged point
of view, a "bird's-eye view," of the bottom line in human reality.
Inherent to the very act of crossing critical cultural boundaries to do
long-term participant-observation is the belief that something of scientific
value, something general if not partially universal, can be carried away from
the experience. And yet the more the field experiences accumulate, the more
aware we are made of all the exceptions to the general rules which once so
monolithically framed our science.
If we are to look for, and eventually find, human
universals, then we must have some reasonable, if not quite realistic notion,
of what it is we should be looking for and what we may or may not actually
find.
If we start with a few basics, like language is a human
universal, or likewise the human capacity for culture, its acquisition,
elaboration, development and transmission, is sort of another human universal,
the most we seem to have accomplished is to emphasize the self-evident.
Similarly, we can stake a claim to certain universal cognitive structures or
even something as indeterminant as "rationality", we do not move
much further in the direction of explaining the foundation of human reality
except to place a priority of mind over matter. Of course, humankind is also a
symboling species, as well as a toolmaking and tool-using. And humankind
everywhere has long had the same basic sets of needs--nutrition, sexual
reproduction (some would even add to things like "love, societas, even
intellectual stimulation to the list). Humans share a similar basic range of
emotions, aggression, and prejudice. And yet, if we tally the list, what kind
of scientific formula are we finally left with.
First we can safely say that there is no such thing as an
exceptionless universal. For every principle we come up with, some exception
to the rule, can be found. This does not disqualify the universal principle in
anyway, but only sets it within a reasonable scope of a bounded, and therefore
scientific, generality. If we presume things to be universally,
exceptionlessly true, then we are setting it beyond the purview of our
scientific control.
Not being an exceptionless universal, does not thereby make
it any less valuable to anthropology.
There is another idealist point of view which sees the
concept of culture as the metaphor of our own making which we apply to certain
kinds or qualities of human phenomena on the basis of certain tacit
presuppositions of cultural difference and identity. Culture does not exist
out there somewhere so much as it is our own invention, itself a part of a
certain anthropological theory about human reality, a conceptual category into
which we fit certain varietes of experience.
On one hand, universals cannot be so empirically
self-evident as to beg the obvious--all human have two hands, so many teeth,
so many bones, etc. On the other hand, universals cannot be so
rationalistically self-defining as to be tautological--culture are the things
that compose culture, the things that compose culture are universal--for
instance the definition of universals as the needs or institutions which
compose culture.
What we are searching for in terms of universals are
bridging, or mediating principles or theories, which link the concrete of
empirical phenomena with the abstractions of our own definitions. We are
looking for such "middle-range" theories that will serve as
adequate, broad-based predictors of certain social phenomena. We are not
talking about the prediction of discrete events so much as probabilistic
tendencies of co-occurrence. Rather than prediction in the normal scientific
sense of the term, we should perhaps be referring to estimation of likelihood.
Similarly, the kind or level of control that we seek in the verification of
our predictions does not have the precision or laboratory-like insulation from
extraneous or unknown variables. The kind of control we seek is rather more
one of relative distance, defined historically, geographically, culturally or
socially. When we speak of an island colony or of a peasant village as a kind
of natural laboratory, we have in mind a pristine state of affairs which
exists in an a historical vacuum, perfectly sealed off from outside contact.
Universals must address some abstract principle which can
be held to sufficiently account for a set or specified range of cultural
phenomena, regardless of the circumstances or extraneous influences which may
result in a great degree of variability in the expression of that phenomena.
Furthermore, universals must be able to account for general directions, and
unfolding patterns of change. Such principles must be able to explain not only
how a given kind of change has occurred, but, from a social and historical
perspective, why that change occurred.
Furthermore, we must distinguish for analytical purposes
different levels at which our theory must account for different ranges of
experience. One level is that of the existential life-world of the individual,
the ego-centered and ego-derived plethora of phenomenological experience
including social relationships, patterns of interaction, characteristics of
individual personality, as well as the interior psychological realm of the
individual. Another level is that of the social institution seen as some kind
of corporate organismic whole, somehow above and beyond the life experiences
of any one individual. Finally, we must recognize a cross-cultural,
trans-historical level beyond the bounds of any corporate organization of
people, and encompassing effectively humankind in its entirety.
We must see that universals operating at one level of
experience and abstraction, may not articulate upon another level. And yet, if
we see human reality as more or less integrated, then we must approach the
problem of the articulation of universal theory upon different levels of
experience.
2
SCIENCE and HUMAN REALITY
Toward an Authentic Anthropology of Science
The informant told the Anthropologist, "it just ain't
so."
And so the Anthropologist, from a careful translation of the
notes, told the class, "It just isn't necessarily so."
And then a student, sitting in the back of the classroom,
went home on vacation to report to her parents--"You know, my
anthropology professor said that it's not necessarily just so."
Human reality always presents itself as is, full
blown. In fact, it can be argued that all reality is human reality, that there
can be no demonstrable reality outside of our human experience of it, and thus
all reality is mediated and represented by our channels of experience.
Thus, human reality is universal and in the primacy of its
experience, unitary and undifferentiated. It is the whole, and we cannot ever
step beyond its boundaries or outside of our own experience of it. In this
sense, human reality is like a cosmic egg, something that is self-contained,
integral, unbroken, and complete. Logically we cannot escape this dilemma.
Empirically, it constitutes the somewhat paradoxical ground of our
anthropological science.
We regularly employ our anthropological science to
analytically separate human reality into its different parts, in order to
better reveal the internal dimensions and relations between its pieces. In
linguistics, we use analytical categories like syntax, semantics, and
pragmatics in order to usefully separate and define what seem to be important
dimensions of our language structure, though in actuality our everyday speech
always has these categories naturally synthesized into a single, coherent,
holistic patterning. Similarly, students of culture conventionally carve up
the cultural universe into its different aspects, traits, or students of
society into its roles, institutions, relations and identities, though our
experience of culture and social life always presents itself in a relatively
undifferentiated phenomenological web of experience.
Our science is depends methodologically upon such analysis
that seeks to separate the parts out and see how they are interrelated to form
the whole. The pattern of organization by which the parts interrelated to
constitute the life of the whole is what scientistists refer to as the
underlying structure. They seek to capture the principles of this underlying
organizational structure, and its processes of functioning, change and
development, as a set of general propositional statements which can then be
applied experiementally to other, similar kinds of entities. It is on the
basis of these inductively derived principles that science proposes
hypothetical theories.
But our science is not just analytical in attempting to
uncover the general patterning and process between the parts in the
constitution of the whole. It becomes also necessarily synthetic in attempting
to put back together the many parts into a new arrangement which is effective
and vital or relevant in some way. Wresting out from the local patterning the
general principles underlying the structure of the whole, science then moves
on to apply those very principles in ways which are useful, in ways which lead
to greater experimental understanding over the processes and patternings which
result.
*****
Whatever the criticism of Thomas Kuhn's seminal work, The
Structure of Scientific Revolutions (1966) the strength and suggestiveness
of its implications and conclusions for the social production and praxis of
'normal' science remains to be fully reckoned with. Usually missing from
critiques of his work are several important points that he makes about the
structure of scientific praxis. These are:
1. Normal science is oriented towards rather specific .i.puzzle-solving;
problems which have definite, correct solutions.
2. The social reproduction of science is based upon the
training, orientation and transmission of central, important 'shared
exemplars' which provide the basis for community organization, and which are
both theoretically efficacious and methodologically heuristic. The concept of
'shared Exemplars' as it is used is inherently ambiguous, suggesting more than
one possible meaning and having more than one set of implications for what
constitutes a 'paradigm' of science, but it carries the overall suggestion of
being a 'Gestalt' or general pattern or model about which a science defines
itself.
3. Kuhn makes a case for a kind of relativity of knowledge
which he holds to be embedded experientially at the level of perception
itself, and which becomes encoded by the idiom of language that a theoretical
orientation, and its set of Gestalts, entail. The community of scientists
become divided into separate camps each speaking in its own idiom and each
having its own way of seeing the world which is incommensurate with the other.
An attempt is made to interpret or translate the new idiom in terms of the
old, but such attempts are only partially successful and ultimately fail. What
occurs is a '.i.Gestalt shift;' as the new idiom, embedded as it is in a new
gestalt organization, is better able to account for deviant phenomena which
the old idiom proved unable to solve.
6. The new theory will successfully account not only for
the annomalous phenomena which the old theory could not successful account
for, but will also successfully incoporate the old theory in a parsimonious
way as a 'limited case model.' The new theory can account for all the
phenomena covered by the old theory, but the old theory cannot likewise
account for the anomalous phenomena upon which the new theory is based.
5. Kuhn's principle of 'achieved' rather than immanent
progress in the development of science is central to his notion of
paradigmatic revolutions. Achieved progress is only measurable in hindsight
indexed by the improved resolution of the new Gestalt to better account for
natural phenomena and to resolve the puzzles which science poses.
Since the publication of this seminal work in the history
and philosophy of science, a great deal of debate has been sparked in the
social sciences over their "paradigmatic" status and over the
general applicability of this model, not only to the natural sciences, but to
the social sciences as well. Kuhn himself alludes to the pre-paradigmatic
status of the social sciences that have not yet coalesced under the aegis of a
single ground, a foundational, textbook theory which all members of the
community are agreed upon. According to Kuhn, the mark of the pre-paradigmatic
period of a science is the divisive nature of its community, unable to come to
terms about the basic, foundational issues of the field. It is as if the
social sciences, sociology, psychology or anthropology, are yet awaiting its
own general Copernican, Newtonian or Darwinian theory. Because such a
pre-paradigmatic science cannot coalesce upon a shared foundation, it cannot
settle into a normal paradigmatic period of puzzle-solving activity which will
lead to the uncovering of anomalous phenomena not satisfactorially amenable to
the normal Gestalt.
It is likely that if the social sciences are to be
considered as yet "pre-paradigmatic," then its ability to come to
rest upon a common ground will not be determined by competitive exclusion in
the academic market place, or by the politicking of departmental and
subdisciplinary factions who promote their own agenda at the expense of other
possible orientations. The ability of social sciences to become scientifically
paradigmatic will also not be achieved by the application of fundamentally
philosophical or ideological principles and programs which presuppose some
kind of "covering law model" which is borrowed from a half-baked
philosophy of science. The philosophy of science is not scientific production
or praxis, and the criterion that determines the value of the former are not
the basis of the validity for the latter. Nor will the paradigmatic unity of
the social sciences be achieved by the somewhat analogical adoption of general
theoretical models borrowed from other scientific disciplines, whether this is
Evolutionary Biology, Information Theory or Ecology.
If and when the social sciences achieve paradigmatic
progress, then it will be on the basis of general theoretical models which are
derived from the phenomenal patternings of the field of study itself, and its
success or failure will be measured by its ability to account for a diverse
range of phenomenon in a relatively axiomatic, parsimonious way, and to
heuristically solve the puzzles that the science can then pose on the basis of
its model. In other words, it is likely that the orienting theory which will
render the social sciences fully paradigmatic is most likely to be specific to
the field of inquiry itself, and not derived on the basis of some other model
of another field of inquiry. Just as Newtonian physics could not have
predicated or predicted Darwinian Evolution, it is likely that a paradigm
creating theory of the Social Sciences will not be predicated upon a revised
model of Darwinian Evolution.
Similarly, the theoretical problematics of forging a
foundational, paradigm theory for the social sciences cannot be reduced to a
language problem which then demands etic/emic distinctions, positivistic
equivalences between the word and the thing, the signifier and the signified,
or a fact-based, logically ordered system of 'operationalization.' Rather, it
is likely that greater idiomatic coherence of the jargon of the field will be
the result, and not the principle causal factor for, the paradigmatic
unification of the field. The theory itself will provide the terminological,
and hence perceptual and conceptual coherence, which such paradigmatic unity
seems to require.
Critics of the application of the paradigm model to the
social sciences emphasis the intrinsically non-paradigmatic character of the
social sciences versus the natural sciences. This distinction follows the
traditional divide between the sciences and the humanities. If the social
sciences are so called, rather than identifying themselves with the
humanities, then has been an attempt to position itself closer to the sciences
that have more prestige value and more success in the modern world than the
humanities, and is likely a reflection of the inherent, underlying status
ambiguity of the social sciences that seem to be interpositionally situated
between the Sciences and the humanities.
These more humanistically oriented scholars emphasize the
distinction between "Naturwissenschaften" on the one hand and "Geisteswissenschaften"
on the other. Scientific positivism fails in the social sciences because it
fails to adequately take into account its own hermeneutic horizons of its
intersubjective language. In the social sciences humankind is both its own
subject and object of inquiry. The cosmographical patterning of human and
social phenomena in the social science fields are held to be so complex and
multiply determined that single, simple models are bound to be inadequate,
that no final covering law model can be nonideologically invoked, and any
unifying theory accounting for such a wide range and complexity of relations
is bound to be metaphysical rather than strictly scientific, and hence the
provenience of philosophy rather than general science. Social science, rather
than being strictly 'paradigmatic' as with the physical sciences, is rather
socially constructed science. The best examples of the social construction of
the social sciences can be found in the fields of economics which, whether in
the guise of classical economics or of Marxist political economy, makes the
claim of being the most 'objective' of the social sciences, and yet completely
fail to step beyond the purview of its own hermeneutical horizon or
ideologically self-serving circle.
Radical critics of the social sciences reject the idea of a
science of human social reality altogether, and would identify the social
sciences as straying from the fold of the traditional humanities. According to
this vision of social sciences, the field is text-producing and discourse
centered, but is inherently non-progressive. If there is any advancement of
social science theory at all, then it is on the basis of a kind of critical
triangulation of insights provided by the enumeration of multifaceted
insights. The conduct of the social sciences is as much an aesthetic exercise
for its own sake as it is a 'knowledge-producing' field of inquiry, done for
the insights it provides into human reality than for any final solution to its
problematics. The number of alternative theories explaining any given
patterning in human reality is potentially boundless, and ultimately, there
are no non-subjective criteria for determining which theory is better or more
valid than another.
A more sophisticated, sensitive and possibly more realistic
position neither accepts or rejects either extreme out of hand. While it
acknowledges the more socially contrived and constructive nature of knowledge
in the social sciences, a thesis which Kuhnian paradigmatics actually extends
to the natural sciences, it also does not completely reject the possibility or
plausibility of some kind of paradigmatic basis of unity for the social
sciences, a unity which is of necessity grounded in the empiricism, however
limited, and in the anti-ethnocentrism, or non-ideological-status, however
culturally constrained, of these fields. Such a compromise position sees the
social sciences as occupying a "Third Culture" the region of which
is between the sciences and the humanities. Its inherently ambiguous
inter-positionality is not a bane, but a boon to the social sciences, and is a
reflection of its distinctive character.
It is not satisfying to view the social sciences as either
a strict science nor as a stray from the humanities. From this viewpoint, the
social sciences are likely to be "quasi-paradigmatic" rather than
pre-paradigmatic or un-paradigmatic. An alternative, rather eclectic view is
that the social sciences are "poly-paradigmatic" and encompass of
diverse variety of sub-disciplinary paradigms which are not so much competing
for the same region of mind as they are mutually constitutive of this region.
A textbook like unity of the sub-disciplines is possible, but this unity is
likely to be superficial, partial and incompletely satisfying. The
proto-paradigm that emerges is likely to be a composite mosaic, a collage of
perspectives, rather than a single, integrated point of view that subsumes
other points of view. The unity achieved will not be the puzzle solving
multiplication of uniformity implied by a paradigmatic prescription, but
rather a kind of paradox resolving organization of diversity that manages to
juggle and synthetically incorporate a rather disparate set of points of view.
The kind of patterning described by this quasi-paradigmatic unification of the
social sciences constitutes a complex kind of social dialectics whose
patterning and progress is emergent and elaborating. Old theories and
frameworks fall by the wayside as inadequate or fundamentally erroneous,
followed by new directions of movement and interest which in turn eventually
grow old and no longer satisfying. Old ideas and themes often become
revitalized in a new way, free of the implicit presumptions and biased
entailments of their previous, outmoded guise. New orientations are never
complete or final, and always have their own tacit biases and hidden
weaknesses, but constitute partial improvements over older, outmoded
frameworks. In a more gradual and less precise way, a foundational structure
for social sciences is laid.
This "Third Culture" orientation for the social
sciences has several corollary implications. First, it is likely that both the
natural sciences and the purer humanities also are dialectical in a similar
way and the social paradigmatic structure of scientific revolutions explicated
by Kuhn are actually the dialectical patterning of the sciences. What
separates the sciences from the humanities, and the social sciences from
either, are not the paradigmatic dialectics itself, so much as the
foundational possibilities which such dialectics entail for inherently
different domains of knowledge, the structural design of the dialectics varies
between these basic disciplinary orientations, and thus result in different
generic possibilities of model construction for each, and the relational
criteria integrating ideas in each of the areas of inquiry. Hence a skyscraper
will not stand on a foundation of earth, and a foundation of reinforced
concrete will crack beneath a mountain of sand and stone. Science constructs
skyscrapers, and the humanities make mountains out of molehills.
The dialectics of inquiry and discourse falls upon a
continuum ranging between polar extremes based upon the pattern-recognition
nature of the knowledge of a discipline and the structure of incorporation of
ideas by other ideas. In the pure sciences, new gestalts incorporate and
adequately account for old gestalts in a way that is relatively complete and
correct. In the humanities, new points of view fail at best only partially
incorporate older ideas, but rather tend to displace these ideas. Progress is
rather an additive and cumulative process of accretion of new ideas to old,
where as in the sciences progress is measured by the incorporation of old
ideas by new ones, and by the discounting of erroneous ideas. In the social
sciences, incorporation takes place, but never so completely as with the harder
sciences.
It is in the shared ground between the sciences and the
social sciences, and between the social sciences and the humanities, that we
must focus our attention. The common attributes which the social science
disciplines share with the natural sciences tends to set it apart from the
humanities, and the common attributes which it shares with the humanities
tends to distinguish it from the sciences. On the dialectical continuum, the
classification of science, social science and the humanities is in part
polythetic as well as prototypical in identity. We must also look for those
traits that are prototypically social science, which distinguish it from
either the natural sciences or the humanities.
What the social sciences share with the physical sciences
and which separates it from the humanities is its definite empiricism, its
qualified objectivism and its naturalistic orientation. For purposes of
scientific inquiry the social sciences typically adopt an empirical, objective
and naturalistic attitude toward the phenomena it seeks to describe and
understand. Its empiricism, objectiveness and naturalism are not separate, but
are mutual related facets of the same general orientation toward the world it
seeks to understand. Critiques of the social sciences fail in not taking into
account the empirical orientation of these fields. But its empiricism is not
an unconstrained kind of empiricism. It is a relative and conventionally
constrained attitude, whereas the social sciences are, ideally at least,
absolutely and nonarbitrarily constrained. It is constrained by the very
facets that it shares with the humanities, facets that the humanities
incorporate more completely as forms of rationalism, subjectiveness and
culturalism versus naturalism. Pure humanities tend towards being almost
absolutely arbitrary in its constraint. It posits as a priori rational,
ideologically constructed points of view or rational frameworks. The
subjectivism of the humanities is evident in its unrestrained reflexiveness
and apperceptive, metaphorical metalogicality.
Now the features prototypical of social sciences becomes
more clearly evident when it is configured on the dialectical continuum
between the sciences and the humanities. The point of departure it shares with
the science is its inherently 'non-ideological' claims to knowledge. Its point
of departure it shares with the humanities is in its own critico-reflexive
recognition of its own ideological subjectiveness and arbitrariness. Science
differs from all other forms of human knowledge on the basis to its claim to a
non-ideological status of understanding. Of course, this status is never
unequivocal or without final uncertainty. This non-ideological status is
demonstrated on the basis of its puzzle-solving success, its capacity to
predictably and correctly resolve a wide range of diverse and specific
problems. Implicit in this claim to non-ideological ontology is the general
openness of its knowledge, that it must be public knowledge that is capable of
being communicated to others who may not exist within the purview of one's own
collective representations or belief. This tacit assumption of science is
particularly relevant for the social sciences in which many theories are often
invisibly based upon hidden ethnocentric presumptions or otherwise unwarranted
biases. The criteria for its openness or general communicability is that it is
based upon some set of measures or standards which are readily available or
replicable by others who may be removed from the immediate context. In such a
way the theory can be empirically demonstrated or replicated by a form of
first-hand evidentiary witnessing by others. The notion of shared exemplars
arises out of this form of evidentiary witnessing.
No scientific theory, then, can be seen to gain immediate
or completely unconditional acknowledgement--its success comes after its
proposed recognition, as the result of its ability to generate these Shared
exemplars as demonstrative cases of its validity. In other words, the success
of a theory is determined after the fact of its repeated demonstration, on the
basis of whether it works or not in solving the problems it poses for science.
There is another spinoff to this argument that is directly related to the
purported non-ideological status of such theory--this is the test of
non-tautological or independent verification. Independent verification occurs
externally to the theory, and its terminological domain itself, after the fact
of its proposition, in contexts which are historically unrelated to those in
which the theory is created or defined, by people who are relatively neutral
or do not have an established commitment to the success or failure of the
theory. Especially in the social science, such independent verification is
sometimes extremely difficult, if not impossible, to demonstrate. Though the
theory may generate consequent solutions, its validity must be founded
initially upon its capacity to resolve a problem that was posed before or
independently of the theory itself.
This criteria carries with it the presumption of a
universal homogeneity of hidden structure, and with it certain implications
about the constancy of physical absolutes--of time, space, substance, and even
human perception. It is these very presumptions which violate the principle of
the scientific reality of human reality, and which it is this principle which
links science to the humanities upon a dialectical continuum of relative
knowledge. What science seeks are general axiomatic principles that account
for a wide range of phenomena, but not for universal principles. All such
propositions are by definition incomplete and partial, subject to verification
or eventual falsification by the demonstration of counter-factual or anomalous
evidence. If scientific truth were by definition absolute and universally
truth, rather than contingent and relative, then it would have no need for
improvement, for progress or for independent demonstration. Only knowledge
that is ideological can make such universal presumptions, whether they are
verified or not.
It is these criteria, above any others which have been
proffered by philosophers of science, which serves to distinguish science or
science-like understanding from any other kind of knowledge. It can be seen
that the sciences and the humanities, existing along the same dialectical
continuum, differ more in matters of relative degree than in kind. The
traditional distinction between Naturwissenschaften/Geisteswissenschaften, as
also the etic/emic and subject/object dichotomies often encountered to
distinguish the sciences from the humanities, are in a sense spurious
dichotomies that emphases the differences of extreme, ideal types, and which
cover over the similarities of the middle ground.
We must inquire, then, into what distinguishes the social
sciences as independent of the natural sciences and of the humanities, or, in
other words, those characteristics which are prototypically social scientific
and that serve to identify it as a field of inquiry separate from either the
natural sciences or the humanities. Like the sciences, it attempts to be
empirical, objective and non-ideological. Like the humanities, it takes as its
central problematic the understanding of human reality, including the
subjective, ideological and constructive components of this reality. But for
the social sciences, human reality is not the starting point as it is for the
humanities, it is the endpoint. It is not enough for the social sciences to be
a poem, a story or a myth, though it may be poetic, narrative or mythical, it
must also strive towards empirical objectiveness of meaning.
There are certain definite characteristics that standout as
prototypical of the social sciences--these are: 1) Its use of statistical
correspondences and correlations, 2) Its dependence upon materially
substantive datum, whether continuous or discontinuous, which are subject to
independent manipulation, 3) Its use of diagrammatic representations which
purport to represent or cognitively map significant variable or simplified
structures isomorphic with the patterning of phenomenological experience, 4)
Its use of prose narrative which is formally propositional and coherent from
the standpoint of symbolic logic, and 5) Its heremeneutical/critical
dependence upon printed or inscribed textual records or primary documents that
serve as the principle means of reporting and referencing its results.
The relative and highly tenable nature of each of these
criteria may be criticized. What is counted statistically and what is ignored
is often a purely subjective decision of the encoder, acts that seem
substantively real to the observe may have a different significance for the
performer (a blink may not be a wink, and even a tool may have been just an
object of art), superficial and oversimplified diagrammatic representations
may obscure more 'structure' than they reveal, or falsify more than they
demonstrate, the logic structure of the descriptive narrative may always be
subject to alternative interpretation, correct propositions may rest on false
but hidden premises and explicit and correct premises may generate false but
implicit conclusions, and the authority of written words may only be apparent
rather than actual, while oral discourse, while ephemeral in its mode of
broadcast transmission, may actually be more authentic. But given these
sobering insights into the limits of our social scientific praxis, we must not
thereby discount the overall relative reliability or validity of such praxis
when it is honestly and seriously conducted, or prematurely dismiss its
general accountability in its description or explanation of human reality.
Not all social science texts must contain all of these
elements in order to be good social science--texts may have all of these and
yet be poor science, and texts may have few if any of these elements of design
and still be scientifically superb. Texts may fall way to the humanistic end
of the dialectical continuum, having no ostensible resemblance to science, and
yet reveal generally valid facets of the human experience. Social science can
be aesthetically pleasing and still remain good science.
3
SCIENCE and SENSE
Scientific Consensus and Anthropological Complexity
Common sense seeks the sense of conformity, science seeks
the conformity of the senses.
Science has been and always will be a human
"sense-making" practice--it's aim has always been to make sense of
the world in terms which reflect the world's own intrinsic ordering of
phenomena, and not our own ideas about it. Part of the sense-making process of
science has therefore always been to penetrate the veil of our own illusory
beliefs in order to experience reality in and of itself. Our theories are the
interpretations that we then bring to this experience in order to make sense
of our senses.
Science has always been susceptible to the risk of lapsing
back into the same fold of our preconceptions from which it strives to break
free. Science must struggle with the received view of things to liberate the
vision of the world from the common sense chains of human illusion that bound
our world in ignorance.
Science is the inevitable consequence of the culturative
exploration of the world, and can be found to flourish wherever such
exploration is not overly constrained by the ideological force of tradition.
*****
Science depends upon achieving a "consensus" of
views among its community of practitioners--this consensus follows the form
similar to an open trial in which the facts of a case are presented in a
public forum for critical review and evaluation. It is rooted in a naive yet
profound faith that "seeing is believing" and that "actions
speak louder than words." From this standpoint, the criteria of science
are always by definition public and open for review. A case, for example, in
which several contradictory views seem equally plausible, is one in need of
further empirical evidence or "witness testimony" and cannot be
unequivocally decided until more evidence is obtained.
It is because of this need for consensus that Science may
often be unwitting victim to the received wisdom of culturally embedded
"common sense." The appeal to the common sense value of a particular
point of view is often heard, especially when a theory might otherwise lack
firm empirical ground upon which to stand, or whose architecture appears loose
or overworked.
Common sense "makes sense" of the world, but not
quite in the same manner that good science demands, because its appeal is
primarily to the preconceived frameworks of our beliefs, values and
viewpoints, rather than to experience which may be at odds with such framework
or lie outside our normal horizon of understanding. Common sense is not
necessarily any less logical or more logically fallacious than science, its
theories may be just as elaborate or as rigorous as those of science. The
point of departure between common sense and science seems to be that while the
former never gets beyond the bounds of its own
"facticity"--situatedness of its knowledge in a cultural and
historical context, that the facts must fit the framework. The latter must
bring in the facts and fit the frame to the facts. Science must often fly in
the face of the received wisdom of our common sense--a feat that may sometimes
seem to contradict our sense-making inclinations.
The point of departure between science and common sense is
that science must accord with the natural order of the world, as this is
attested to by the phenomena of nature unconstrained by human involvement or
interference. Common sense remains rooted to the human order of the world, and
depends upon the constraints of its human involvement.
*****
We are left to reconsider in the light of the sense-making
differences between science and common sense, the place and role of science
and common sense in anthropological knowledge of the world.
Anthropological knowledge must deal with the stochastic
complexity of human reality. This complexity is both natural and cultural, and
in its anti-chaotic patterning resists facile reductionistic explanation.
The value of common sense has always been its vast
compression of the complexity of reality into a convenient, conceptually
manageable scale. It makes sense of the world by simplifying its complexities
by several orders. Furthermore, common sense apparatus frequently relies upon
a kind of sleight of hand, tricking the senses into seeing what it believes.
In this regard common sense is not so much "sense-making" but
becomes actually anti-scientific in demanding a temporary
"suspension" of the credulity of our senses in exactly the opposite
way that science sometimes demands our temporary "disbelief."
Common sense depends upon non-contradiction of our
senses--information must be coordinate with our received frameworks of
experience. Contradiction is antithetical to common sense, and common sense
becomes our basic apparatus for dealing with and resolving contradiction in
our world. This also means that our common sense is highly susceptible to the
kinds of internal contradictions that our science must expose. Science seeks
such contradiction as the means to its resolution, while common sense must
deny it. Common sense remains fixed, while science "moves on".
We depend upon our common sense to successfully function in
our everyday world. But the success of our science depends upon how much we
are able to overcome the seductive power of our common sense, in learning how
to see the world the "way it really is." The appropriate attitude of
sense-making science is that of critical doubt and skepticism--which seems
quite contrary to the usual attitude of common sense which is one of naive
faith and unquestioning acceptance.
Anthropological knowledge will stand upon is own as a
genuine science in exact proportion to the extent that it will be able to
divest itself of its own common sense preunderstandings and seek means of
stepping beyond the horizon of it is own facticity in the world, to deal with
the human order of the world upon its "own" terms. This is easier
said than done, because human beings are not atoms or genes or molecules, and
human symbols have this curious, unnatural arbitrariness about them. The Human
order of the world is one that has long been contaminated by the
antiscientific history of human involvement and interference.
Part of the problem to the development of anthropological
knowledge as authentic science is that we yet lack a properly scientific
theory of the kind of complexity that the human world presents to our senses.
Human beings simply do not follow perfectly predictable orbits like planetary
bodies, nor are our wills or imagination necessarily subject to genetic
predetermination in any direct, causal way. We are left in our pursuit of an
authentic science of anthropology with a hodge-podge of many science-like
pieces of an enormous jigsaw puzzle, but with only a fragmentary sense of its
edges or corners or the patterning its center might present to the senses. In
this regard the only map to guide us becomes the patterning of our common
sense that has been tempered by our scientific skepticism.
******
Of what might an anthropological science of human
complexity consist? In the first place, we must consider the possibility that
our anthropological jigsaw puzzle is not a static, set-piece problem promising
one finite, correct solution. Rather it is a dynamic game we play, with the
many jagged edges and borders becoming altered as we try to fit them together.
As we add more pieces to our picture, its patterning changes in ways we can
hardly predict. The pieces that seemed to fit together a century or even a
decade ago no longer seem to cohere in exactly the same way.
We must see the anthropological field of view as an
evolving, epigenetic landscape. The surface patterning that has been apparent
to our senses are epiphenomenal forms of underlying currents and processes of
which we are scarcely made aware. If it is evolving, we must see that it must
be an infinite state machine that is nondeterministic--yet it remains
stochastically ordered because it is a self-perpetuating patterning--one that
is anti-chaotic. It's structure may not be so much some underlying static
law-like order, but rather the dynamic relational structuration of the many
parts in relation to the whole and to one another. In other words, the changes
in any part of the entire pattern are critically constrained by the nexus of
relations with many other parts, and the random changes of these relations.
Thus the total history of the whole puzzle plays an important role in the
patterning and net value of any of its parts.
Because the total history is virtually unrecoverable, and
because the net value of any of its parts approach virtual infinity, we must
seek in our science a statistically systematic means of eliminating the
impossible from the possible, and then of deriving from the statistically
possible the plausible, and then the most probable. In such way we may come to
gain a sense of the overall scale and dimensionality of our puzzle, and
determine the proximity of its outermost boundaries. We will never have much
more than a global weather-map of the human world, from which we can read the
general trends and make short-range forecasts, but of which we will never be
able to predict or control the complete concatenation of factors which go into
its creation.
If general laws can be found to underlie this patterning,
we must seek them as basic relational principles that govern the order and
possibilities for change between elements in the system. We might also
speculate that certain transformational rules apply with some regularity in
the derivation and expression of the possible patterning Whether these basic
principles and derivational rules apply in a completely deterministic manner
is open to serious doubt. They may apply or not in any given instance in a
boolean manner. Furthermore, in regard to human reality, many of these
determining principles may be more or less "arbitary"--subject to
volitional human agency--therefore lacking the imperative "force" of
"natural law".
This picture of an authentic anthropological science which
does not depend upon the reductionism inherent in common sense, speak for a
deeper and widened role for cross-cultural research and comparative studies in
providing a systematic methodology for approaching the complexity of human
reality in this manner. But we must construe such research in a revised way,
one that is assisted by computer processing. But when we consider the problem
of the integration of over a trillion neurons of several billion people in a
multi-trillion dollar world economy--we must see the fruits of such an
anthropological science as a remote objective.
How to revise cross-cultural research to better fit this
expanded role of anthropological science. One suggestion is to frame its
database into an historical time-line--to use a temporal framework to fit and
frame the facts of our cross-cultural comparisons. Another suggestion is to
deliberately cultivate a "trans-disciplinary" perspective that is
able to coordinate and integrate knowledge of various fields into somekind of
meta-synthesis. Finally, this suggests the value and necessity of adopting, at
least for heuristic purposes, the so-called "pan-optic" point of
view which seeks to "comprehend" in the patterning of human reality
in its entirety, with the paradoxical understanding that such a perspective
must necessarily always be conditional and incomplete--an authentic
anthropological science must remain as holistic as it is relativistic and
comparative and empirical in orientation.
There is another principle involved in the patterning of
the whole of human reality. The consideration of its many possible parts
cannot be had in isolation from the history and patterning of the whole--we
must somehow take the whole into account in our anthropological science. We
must deal with a dilemma in this way--the whole may exhibit a robust sense of
stability which belies the actual dynamic action of its many parts, and the
transitional dynamics of the whole may proceed inspite of or only indirectly
dependent of the actions of its many pieces. If we look at any local
situation, we may come away with a sense of stability and dynamic that may not
directly accord with the long-term patterning of the whole.
In the anthropological science of our human complexity,
there is a place and an important role for our common sense when it is
unfettered by the conditional cultural logic of our own context in reality. It
will be our common sense, liberated from its boundaries, which will serve to
simplify our complexity and serve as the basis for achieving a scientific
consensus. Our reformed common sense, reminded of its own inherent limitations
and contradictions, can be put to the service of our anthropological science
in helping to prune the complexity of human reality to a maneagable scale.
*****
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 which function at 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 superordinate levels, though the laws and
principles obtaining upon a superordinate 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
governability. 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. It is something that 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 benetic
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 psychosocial 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
electro-magnetic 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 subcritical,
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. back
4
ANTHROPOLOGICAL SCIENTIFICITY and SCIENTISM
The proof is always in the pudding.
Science has been surprisingly successful in coming to grips
with reality and in wresting from nature its secrets. It is little wonder that
science has become the new secular religion of modern civilization. Its
promise is of a real world utopia in real human time. There is no problem that
is beyond the power of science to eventually resolve. If we wish to shroud
ourselves with a veil of respectability and of credibility, then we could want
no better than to don the garb of the white lab jacket and to call whatever it
is we do a science. And there is a great deal of ritual in scientific praxis,
and many legends of great men and even a few myths and more than a mere
modicum of magic, and its professors sometimes resemble an officially ordained
priesthood.
Perhaps it is to be expected when Social scientists and
others with a "softer" more humanistic field of inquiry adopt or
reinterpret many of the traits of the physical sciences. For many it has been
a way of selling one's wares in a System that prizes and puts a premium upon
scientific research, but which affords little compensation for more
humanistically oriented endeavors. Maybe it is a means of career advancement,
or professional survival, or even "just a living." The need to dress
up basic interpretations with numbers, diagrams and statistics to provide the
front of respectability and authority of science, just in order to publish
what otherwise remains an interpretation, makes a hypocrit of many professors.
We must separate the issue of the reality and praxis of
science from its ideological sycophancy and promotion in the world. We must
learn to recognize its many limitations and its boundaries. It is not so that
anything that is not amenable to science is without value or credibility, or
that any question which is deemed unworthy of scientific method is somehow
trivial or irrelevant in the world. Science cannot answer some kinds of
questions, but these questions are therefore no less important to ask.
Philosophers argue the finer points of the significance of
science, and even the issue of exactly what it is or how it works is a topic
hotly debated in some circles. Though many people may call themselves
scientists and act the part, they may not actually have a very detailed or
complete idea of what science really is. In fact, though many of its
sychophants talks as if they know what science is really all about, no one in
the world has a bottom line on the subject.
Science has been judged primarily in terms of its
successful track record--we know it works and this seems to be enough. But we
do not know if it will keep on working forever or if it will sooner or later
fail us.
The many technological spinoffs of science and the
scientifically organized process of progressive development in the world seems
to be generating many unintended side-effects which our original models and
equations had not anticipated. We might call this a kind of iatrogenic
disorder of Science--diseases and problems that are the result of the
treatment of other diseases and problems.
Science as a construction of reality has been as much an
ideology in the world, a kind of history in the making, as it has been any
genuine attempts to account for the natural processes of the world. There has
been science, and then there has been scientism and scientifism. In this
regard, it should be emphasized that governments and corporations can fund
science and even direct its development, but it cannot appropriate science to
its own ends and still call what it has appropriated "science."
And there has been an inherently destructive side of
scientific praxis. Its tampering with natural processes and the natural order
has in many ways irreversibly destroyed or disturbed natural rhythms. And
scientific discovery has led to the technological production of many deadly
weapons--in fact the quest for more lethal weaponry has been one primary
motivation for the support of scientific research. So much destruction has
been wrought by science in the name of progress that it has led a few skeptics
to speculate upon the thanatological side and motivations of science, and
perhaps to even see in the dogma of science the harbinger of death.
The pure scientists of course can claim a well guarded
neutrality in this matter, and point blame to their less respectable
"applied" cousins who will work for whoever will provide the most
funding. But scientific neutrality is as much a vain claim to untouchability
as it is a necessicity in the objective advancement of a value-free
orientation. All people, pure and applied, must acknowledge the responsibility
for which their own actions and decisions play in a broader world.
Science is, in fact, not value free. Whether we adhere to a
dogma of positivism or to a more open version of our science, we are in fact
tacitly affirming certain loaded values and conceptions about a scientific
worldview, about the nature of reality, the value of knowledge and the power
to interfere with and control the natural order. And scientists as human
beings cannot long feign a protected neutrality from the many consequences of
their own work, to be human in the world is to acknowledge one's unavoidable
involvement. Science is in fact a world-view and value orientation in the
world with many profound implications.
Like it or not, Science is probably not the end all or be
all of modern life. Science may not be able to solve all our problems, and may
in the long run lead to more problems than it will be able to redress. Science
is not without its own limits, and failure to recognize or to live within
those limits may have more unforeseeable consequences for the world. This is
not an anti-scientific call to a return to basic fundamentalist Christian
values. A realistic science is a limited science, and a limited science is a
safe one.
But because no one has a bottom-line on science, about what
it is or how it works or why, no one can play the final authority in judging
what is genuinely scientific from what is not. It is not satisfactory to most
scientists if Thomas Kuhn finds the ground of science to be subjective
intuition and epistemologically, phenomenologically relative. It is a paradox
that much of what passes for hard science may in fact be quite spurious and
superficial, while much which gets passed by as "unscientific" may
actually be quite scientifically suggestive or profound. Science has little to
lose and much to gain from adopting a more open and broader account of it
self. It is not a unitary phenomenon. It is many different kinds of things to
many different kinds of people. We cannot too easily prescribe what science
can and cannot do, what kinds of questions science should or should not
answer, or what kinds of solutions we ought to label as scientific or not.
There is a great likelihood that as the world changes and
as science changes the world, science itself, as a part of the world, will
also change and become something different from what it is today or has been
in the past. It is very likely that the science of Archimede's day or of
Ptolemy's was very different than Galileo's or Newton's science, and that
Einstein's or Max Planck's science was different from the science of today.
And if science has taught us nothing else about our world, it is that we
probably cannot predict what our science will become like.
*****
We again must look for a critical conjuncture between those
anthropological aspects which underlie the criteria of science, and those
scientific aspects which underlie the legitimacy of anthropology as science.
For reality, however else we may define it, is inescapably a human reality
from the standpoint of the knowledge of the human observer, and human reality,
from the standpoint of the world encompassed by the knowledge of the human
observer, is a universal reality.
The criteria claimed to underlie science has been variably
defined as demonstrability, verifiability, falsifiability, productivity,
predictability, replicability, or explanability. Truth as it is held to be
scientifically verifiable, is subject to certain tests or cannons of
tenability which are used to determine its acceptance or rejection. These
tests are rarely defined formally or explicitly, and some would claim exist
more as the function of social consensus or of casual praxis than anything
that is rigorously or rigidly followed.
I would add to the criteria of science the relative values
of openness and communicability of the system--something which is it self a
difficult thing to measure. But there is good reason for such values, as it
places upon the proof or disproof of science the responsibility for its public
access, as an "inter-subjectively verifiable" phenomena, and for its
necessary lack of closure in its connections to a larger and always
encompassing universe.
It has also been asserted by some that different
"paradigms" obey different standards of truth and different ways of
knowing reality. Religion relies upon the authority of sacred texts as the
basis for its truth-value, and upon the willingness to believe, or to accept
by faith, the truth of its doctrine. Art, on the otherhand, relies upon an
intuitive and appreciative faculty, and has as its criteria perceptive and
sensational experience of aesthetic phenomena. Philosophy looks for the truth
of logos and reason, and rationality is the principle means and avenue for the
attainment of such understanding. Science, as noted previously, is primarily
empirical in orientation, and applies certain specific, "objective"
criteria of public verification.
In this regard we might speculate whether Anthropology, as
a science and as a field of the humanities, must strictly follow the criteria
applied in the harder sciences, or else must have its own paradigmatic
criteria of validity and verifiability. And we may answer this that
Anthropology follows both its own and a broader set of scientific criteria of
openness and communicability at the same time. The special criteria of
anthropology has to do with inter-subjective validation,; and its principle way
of knowing is the knowledge of the self in relation to the other. It follows
the broader criteria of science that is similar to other fields of inquiry,
but it translates these broader criteria in its own special way, in terms of
its own way of understanding the world.
*****
For good reason, statistics has become the preferred
language of description in Science. Statistics forces the quantification of
values upon a mathematical field of relational saliency that may or may not
reflect the actual empirical field of relations it purportedly represents. The
critical point of conjuncture (or disjuncture) is the arbitrary assignation of
numerical values to observable things in the world. Such quantification has
several consequences. It renders as discrete and discontinous variables that
may in reality be indiscrete and continuous. The resulting numerical values,
and their quantitative loading within the mathematical field, may or may not
realistically reflect the actual, intrinsic differential values of the things
so represented. Some things and kinds of things lend themselves more readily
to numerical quantification than other things. The result of these two
discrepancies is the likelihood of distortion that would tend to favor the
biases of the individual who makes the decisions. Finding three or more
"blind" coders will probably yield three sets of biases that may or
may not have a net effect of neutralizing one another. Also, the assignation
of values quantitatively defined to things fundamentally qualitative in
definition has the effect of superimposing a superficial sense of one-to-one
correspondence, or of isomorphic congruity which remains part and parcel of
the positivist presumption.
The translation between a quantitative, formally
constrained language and one that is qualitative, and informally ordered, may
or may not be correct or accurate, and depends upon the reification of natural
language, an informal fallacy, for its justification. Also, all statistics
contains the intention to "average" together sets of values that may
or may not be meant to be averaged together. In the first place, the causes
and contexts of one suicide may be very different, and virtually incomparable,
to the reasons and factors lying behind another. Calling both by the same name
as suicide will not yield a solution, but rather serves to obscure the
original problem of their many incommensurability. This broaches another
important part of statistical description, the comparing together of things
which may fact be otherwise incommensurable. Finally, if we take both suicides
to be variants of the same basic kind of thing, and we "average" the
two together to find the modal kind of "suicide" we face the
consequence of foisting upon reality as a ideal fact what is in actually an
average fiction. If we then compare all our examples of suicide with our
average form to see how much or in what way they may very from it, we risk the
illusion and fallacy of comparing, and implicitly defining something in the
world, in terms of what it is not, and in terms of something which does not
have any substantive basis in reality. Another problem in statistical
description is the bounding of a universe for a significant sample. If we rely
upon our own definitions for determining the boundaries between phenomena, we
risk the fallacy of reifying our own superimposed definitions and taxonomic
schemas upon the world which may not necessarily be so ordered. Especially
important in this are the exclusion or inclusion of "inbetweenies."
These dilemmas are especially apparent to the
anthropological investigator engaged in cross-cultural research. A great many
different, arbitrarily defined traits or institutions may be in essence
"lifted" from their original ethnographic context, and thrown
together into a common pool based upon criteria of common definition, type,
etc., which may obfuscate the complexities of the reality in which they are
ethnographically embedded. Coders in the field may not know whether to call
the twitch of an eye a wink or a blink, nor how many times a person winked and
how many times the same person blinked--but it might make a decisive
difference if we believed winking to be a significant tactic in social
interaction or if we believed that blinking may be a significant symptom of a
certain culture-specific nervous syndrome.
Inspite of these shortcomings of statistical science, we
must acknowledge the important role which statistics has come to play in the
articulation of the dialectic of science, and of anthropology as a science.
The very factors which are the inherent limitations of statistical methodology
also constitute the basis for its greatest strength--the capacity for
comparing together otherwise incomparable things, and for deriving significant
correlations and central tendencies from such comparison, correlations which
may not otherwise be obvious or available for evaluation. Statistics, if
correctly done, will yield conclusions which will be independent of the
evaluator's own biases, and therefore can be used as an independent check and
gauge against which different evaluations can be measured.
But statistics is important for another reason. Statistics
allows us to model in fairly precise terms, and to simplify in a systematic
way, what would prove to be otherwise impossibly complex to model or
represent in more naturalistic terms. Because of its reductionistic
tendencies, and the systematicity with which it does so, statistic offers the
potential for capturing in relatively simple and concise terms aspects of
reality which, because of enormity, scale and complexity, would not be
otherwise describable. Statistics offers us a way of handling and finding
order in chaos, in terms that we can quickly comprehend and facilely
manipulate.
Furthermore, statistics is a language par excellence for
dealing with relativistic phenomena, and for defining the relationships
between different things. Heisenberg gave us a paradoxical account of a
physical universe that is fundamentally statistical in nature. It offers a
kind of relativistic degree of association and significance which does not
discount the possibility for error or bias, and which takes into account in
its basic formulas the inherent indeterminancy of the final definition of
reality. Because statistics is written in terms of probabilities,
significances, central tendencies, uncertainties and likelihood, it offers us
an alternative language relatively free of the fallacies of the essentialist
bias found in our natural discourse--that we can come to terms and capture on
paper the "essence" of things instead of just their most likely
appearance.
6
ANTHROPOLOGOS
Science or Humanity?
Do we really need to finally answer the question
anthropologists seem to so strongly need to ask--namely is anthropology more
of the .sciences or of the humanities. Eric Wolf wrote that Anthropology was
of between both--the devil and the dragon so to speak. A more sober attitude
might perhaps view this question as perhaps the two horns of a spurious
dilemma which anthropological knowledge poses for our world. Another view
might see the social sciences as forming a "Third Culture" in the
style of C.P. Snow's classic distinction. Franz Boas thought of anthropology
as both a universalizing science and a particularizing kind of
"cosmography."
Some have argued that Anthropology is paradigmatic in the
Kuhnian sense of the term, others that it is "non-paradigmatic," and
still others that it is "poly-paradigmatic" or
"pre-paradigmatic" or else "quasi-paradigmatic." The last
decade has witnessed the flare up of new debates within American Academic
Anthropology, especially as this question is regarded by recent critical and
"post-" theorists and "reflexive anthropologists" who have
come to review more critically the functional and perhaps classist foundations
of anthropological knowledge within a larger world order.
It is difficult, to say the least, to approach
anthropological knowledge in exactly the same manner that a physicist or even
a biologist might be said to approach her/his data, with the same degree of
scientific neutrality and hence "objectivity". The problematics of
understanding human reality inevitably poses for us the paradox of the
humanness of our understanding in ways which are not so directly obvious in
other fields of the natural sciences. This is especially so when such
anthropological knowledge resolves itself centrally upon the reality of
another human being (and therefore, by implication, of our own humanness) in
the world.
Those who want to see anthropology in a positivistic sense
as a "hard science" of facts neglect the "facticity" of
their own definitions of the data. They seek a comparative, universal
conception of general anthropological knowledge that will yield basic laws of
human history, culture, behavior, values and mind. They decry those who
renounce this scientific role of science as at worst an anti-scientific threat
to the very order and progress of anthropological knowledge, and at best
unproductive and unprogressive in any constructive, uncritical sense. The
self-styled "anti-anthropologists" and "humanistic
anthropologists" disclaim any final version of anthropology, or even the
possibility for the emergence of any progressive paradigm of anthropology from
the "marketplace of ideas." These anthropologists are regarded as
promulgating the "Celebration of the Difference" and a delight in
disorder in a somewhat Dyonysian manner. They regard the strength of
anthropology to come from the diversity and multiplicity of ideas and
perspectives that emerge out of its on-going dialectic, and this diversity
along is the justification for anthropological research. The superimposition
of uniformity or unity of theory upon anthropological knowledge is bound to be
spurious and ideologically self-serving and therefore anti-intellectually
dangerous. For them anthropological patterns, like historical patterning of
which it is a part, is a neverending and unpredictable unfolding of infinite
variations and possibilities upon common themes. The most that can be had is a
regionally limited sense of order, one conditional to prevailing
circumstances.
It is important not to overlook the part played by the
often cutthroat competition for funding and power within departmental contexts
in the drawing of the battlelines about this basic question. The user usually
pays, and in a post-Republican, pro-biological unanthropological era, only the
user pays.
So must we answer this seemingly most important question?
Perhaps, but maybe not in the way that would seem very satisfactory for either
those who prefer to take sides or for those who wish to occupy somekind of
conciliatory middle-ground. First, we might say that such a question is but
one basic facet of an on-going dialectic that has always informed
anthropological knowledge--one that Roy Wagner referred to as
"collectivizing/relativizing." But it doesn't seem enough to merely
talk about the dialectic while keeping one foot inside and the other outside
of the terms of the debate. We might further argue that this dialectic is part
of an even more basic, larger dialectic which has informed all of Western
knowledge, and perhaps human knowledge in general--thus the question confers
and important anthropological dimension to the knowledge of anthropology, and
the anthropology of knowlege in general. Furthermore, we might speculate
whether or not this basic dialectic which seems to inform Western-styled
consciousness, if not human consciousness in general, itself is based upon
somekind of basic contradiction or conflict which might underly such
consciousness.
I suggest that elements of the current debate are
historically situated in the contemporary "Modern" epoch of
humankind, and in certain fundamental ways reflect basic contradictions and
conflicts which confront the contemporary "World-View" as this has
become globally defined. We must not overlook the place with World War II had
in the situating of a Whitian version of General Cultural Evolution based upon
the augmentation of energy. Similarly, the role of the U.S. in Vietnam, and
during the Post-Vietnam era, as an imperialist Rome in a unidimensional
Capitalistic World System, cannot be overlooked in the cry for the
multiplicity of voices, and the bringing home of the third world empire to the
domestic Uniteds States does not just fortuitously parallel the call for
greater reflexivity in a more domestically oriented American Anthropology. And
if Anthropology can be construed as a mode of representation dealing with the
incorporation and collectivization of diversity in the world, it can also be
seen as a complementary mode of reflection which shows to us indirectly our
own most pressing preoccupations and concerns, even our calls to greater
reflexivity and multiplicity of voices in the world are a part of this
"mode of information" which further augments the very integrative
processes which such orientations critique.
We cannot escape the hermeneutic circle posed by the
historical situatedness of our anthropological problematics except to look for
more general patterns of our dialectics which transcend the vital issues of
the moment and which unite our concerns and contradictions with those of other
periods and places.
The question then, with its relativistic trappings boiled
away, becomes not whether anthropology is or is not a science or a humanity (a
question that by itself we cannot hope to answer but within the context of our
own historical situatedness), but rather how anthropology has and has not been
a science and how anthropology has and has not been a humanity, and how it has
alway been both, neither and either simultaneously.
The unity I seek to answer this question with is not so
much the notion of the "psychic unity of humankind" but rather the
"unity of the human spirit and reason in anthropological knowledge and
inquiry." As much as we may chide Christopher Columbus and his kind for
the "Discovery of the New World" I suggest that we should not see so
much contrast with his spirit of exploration and our own spirit of
anthropological inquiry, and as much as we might ridicule the Medieval
worldview who saw antipods and humans with tails and other anthropomorphic
beasts upon the corners of a flat earth, this worldview was so different in
function than our own anthropological worldview that has divided the world
between literates and primitives, the "Dani" here, the
"!Kung" there, etc. In the light of our emancipated science, we
might see our view of the world as somewhat more free of ignorance and
supersitution than those medieval map-makers, but by what absolute standard
shall we measure the level of our own ignorance and bias. If we are ignorant
about are world, then we do not know about it, and if we know about it, then
we cannot be ignorant. Perhaps it can be claimed that we have grown, in our
civilization, a bit older and wiser than that adolescent vision of the world
which covered Medieval Europe in a shroud of darkness, but not enough to
justify our treatment of our anthropological ancestors with disdain and
ridicule for their ideas. Their legacy of ignorance and brutality has been our
inheritance, and if today we cannot look beyond the first pages of their
histories to view the "native" in an "untouched" state, if
we cannot be certain what exactly what existed before the devastation wrought
by the Western "discovery" of the New World, then we have no one
else to blame but ourselves, because we cannot be too sure we are serving the
interests of humankind in any wiser or superior fashion than our ancestors
did.
In other words, whatever our contemporary intellectual
hubris, about the only thing we can really be sure of is that we are probably
no less historically situated by the hermeneutic horizon of our
anthropological knowledge than were our anthropological ancestors, and if
nothing else, this should be a sobering reminder about the limits of
anthropological knowledge, whether scientific or humanistic.
Standing behind the question posed as to whether or not
anthropology is a science or a humanity, is a more basic question as to the
human status of anthropological knowledge in the world, and the basic
contradictions of human reality which underly and constrain this status in
vital ways. Is anthropological knowledge about human reality amenable to
scientific methods of study, or is it, in the complexity of its pattern,
fundamentally resistant, if not completely immune, to such analysis, and thus
best served by "looser" if not less rigorous approaches. But such a
question, when rephrased, still belies a more basic issue of the boundaries
that separate domains of knowledge in the world. The differences in inquiry
between physics and philosophy, or biology and history, or art and
anthropology, may be somewhat more substantial and significant than those
traditional differences posed between "The Two Cultures."
The fundamental question then becomes, not whether
anthropological knowledge is "scientific or humanistic" but whether
anthropological knowledge occupies its own distinctive domain in the
intellectual landscape, one which is not a subdomain of a larger field of
inquiry, and if so, then what are the boundaries and the provenience of this
domain in relation to other domains of inquiry.
What then, is the status of anthropological knowledge in
the world? It is as anthropology relates to the status of human reality itself
that we must seek our answer. In other words, it is to be found in our own,
shared attitudes towards human reality, whether we seek a wide vision of the
field or a narrow point of view, whether we seek an unchanging, static
conception of our reality or one which is dynamic and subject to continuous
variation. And in a very fundamental personal way, it belies our own attitudes
and orientation towards reality--whether we seek a world composed of
difference or defined by common identity.
It is not unreasonable to suggest that this basic
orientation, and the fundamental contradiction between identity and difference
which it belies, may be at least in part conditioned by our own historical
situatedness in relation to a wider world--who we seek as the source of our
funds, our inspiration, our guidance and our beliefs.
What is recognizeable is a call for the rehabilitation of
the anthropological attitude and orientation in relation to humankind, such
that it can no longer serve, whether naively or deliberately, the interests of
impersonal and inhumane powers, and can be used in the advocacy and promotion
of the rights and interests of people. We see applied forms of this in
individual cases, such as the Native NorthAmerican land claims filed agains
the federal government, or the support by anthropologist of native groups of
the Amazon to discourage encroachment by Brazilian development interests. But
for these few positive examples there are numerous counterexamples of
anthropologists playing as pawns of power.
The real danger to the future of anthropology in the world
will finally be decided in terms of its general relevance to the world, not in
terms of the marketability of its suggestions or its ability to attract the
highest-paid brains in academia, but simply in terms of the general relevance
of its ideas--its capacity to cross intellectual boundaries as facilely as it
crosses cultural boundaries, and to retrieve from such crossing perspectives
which transcend the dialectics of its own historical boundaries. The risk
anthropology runs is of falling into the very academic banality and mediocrity
that is a symptom of its dependency upon external supports and props.
But the kind of rehabilitation of anthropological
perspective desired does not have to play the role of applied or advocacy
anthropology, but it must be something more than the mere reflection of its
own implications in the struggles for power in the world. We can legitimately
speak of a kind of reformed anthropology which knowledge is neither
exclusively of science or of the humanities, but is self-sufficiently
anthropological in orientation. Such an anthropology must seek to step beyond
the boundaries of its own hermeneutic horizon, and to define itself
independently of the research prerogatives and priorities implicit within a
"publish or perish" or "user-pays" imperative. It is a
kind of anthropology that can and must provide itself enough room in the world
to grow into its own. back
7
The POST-SYNDROME
Above and Beyond Anti-Anthropology
The possibility of translation is its impossibility
I would call the "Post-Syndrome" the need to
hyphenate long latin words with the prefix "Post" and the need to
put every third or fourth word within quotation marks, and the need to attack
the legitimacy of sound science with the use of obscure self-contradictions
and sophisticated, groundless "tropes."
This is not to say that much of the Post-Structuralist, or
Post-Humanist, or Post-Modernist perspective; is without value
whatsoever--only that the anthropological value of a perspective which comes
primarily from literary criticism is critically limited, and is not overly
productive as a fruitful way of seeing the world. If we were to adopt
unequivocally and whole-heartedly the pessimistic "Post-" point of
view, we would risk self-destruction and self "de-construction" to
the point of existential despair and academic anomie, and in the process we
would undervalue and short change the real work of many an anthropologist.
Anthropology can be seen to be a symbolic and ideological
component of the social construction of reality, one in which truth and power
relations have too high degree of positive correlation to ignore, one in which
playing the neutral, innocent, knowledge for knowledge's sake, ethnography
carries many hidden and tacit presumptions of espionage, voyeurism, the
reinvention and appropriation of culture, etc. It has served the interests of
a predominant western point of view, as much colonial, "post-colonial' or
neo-colonial as "scientific". The line between genuine science and
spurious scientism becomes stretched, blurred and too thin to clearly see the
difference.
The critique of anthropologos, of a pan-optic principle of
presence in turning the histories and subjectivities of
"Others" upon the periphery of our empire into the reformed
objective history of our own making, a denial of otherness as self which
accompanies the inexorable exploitation, subjugation and desocialization of
distant others in the world. We must question our taken for granted tropes and
view the political history of many of our most unmarked metaphors.
But this line of criticism can only go so far in the
reconstruction of anthropological reality. The view from comparative
literature which equates ethnography with fiction and mythology is at best
naively mistaken in its failure to recognize the historical and empirical
basis for such field work, and is at worst a case of dogmatic denial of the
real world role that the anthropologist commonly plays in the promotion of his
field of inquiry.
Ethnography in particular, however it is written, and
anthropology in general, constitute kinds of information, or knowledge about
the world, which are essentially neutral. Anthropology is not necessarily an
"objective science of disinterested inquiry" which becomes a mere
marionette of power. Its information, its knowledge and its techniques can and
have been used for the purposes of power, and anthropologists have sometimes
either deliberately or unwittingly been dupped into serving such interests,
but by and large anthropology as an empirical science remains but a neutral
tool that can be used either as a weapon of power or as a means for producing
greater good in the world.
The structural inequality of power which underlies the
relationship of the ethnographer with her/his subjects of inquiry is perhaps
of necessity an uneven one. But the fact of this structural inequality does
not preclude the possibility of neutral, relatively unbiased results, nor
prevents objective "progress" from being achieved in the advancement
of understanding about human reality, nor does it preclude the possibility of
personal equality and even genuine friendship with many "others" in
the world
Whatever its vices and virtues, Anthropology remains an
imperfect human science about human reality. It is subject to most of the
weaknesses, and many of the strengths, that anything human in the world is
prone to.
It is not too long before the fertility and productivity of
the "Post-Syndrome" leads to a kind of mental and creative
exhaustion. It leaves in its wake of theoretical devastation little fertile
ground with which to rebuild the anthropological mansion. Sophistry and
Cynicism are no substitutes for sublimity and subtlety. Anthropologists must
learn to listen to, but not take as their prime directive, literary critics or
professors of English who may hypocritically espouse Heidegger or Foucault.
Anthropological style cannot be too profound if it always frames itself by
quotes, if it always traffics in self-contradictory obscurities and stylish
innuendos, and if its primary agenda is always and only the
"destruction" of its own and other peoples' work.
The way past this critical period is not to refuse to look
at the shadow it casts upon our anthropological fields, but to learn that a
world without shadow is a world without depth or dimension. There is life past
the "Post-Syndrome", just as there is meaning to be found in the
world without the need for qoutes. The net result of the
"Post-Syndrome" is a kind of stultifying corrosion of the capacity
to be constructive and creative in the world. It is a juvenile,
anti-intellectual reaction to a petty kind of adolescent perfectionism that
successful Academics are not taught to outgrow. Creativity does not depend
upon being or becoming perfect--rather it comes from the natural curiousity,
free play and willingness to make mistakes--just as truth or progress does not
always depend upon being right--rather it comes from having proven oneself
wrong in the world. Unharnessing ourselves from our own perfectionist
obsessions unleashes our creative energies that are otherwise tied up in a
self-frustrating knot. Perfectionists chronically fail to learn by their
mistakes.
If any translation in the world is as good as any other,
then there would be no need to practice anthropology.
*****
The critical charge that anthropology has been the
stepchild of colonial imperialism has been a valid one. But we must recognize
that anthropological research and knowledge is constrained in critical,
necessary ways, by its historical situatedness in the world, as is any related
field of inquiry. We must also recognize that anthropological knowledge by it
self, is neither inherently virtuous or vicious. Relativistic romanticism
which glorifies the often mean and brutal life of the native other is as
dangerous, if not more dangerous, than a coldly "scientific"
anthropology of "disinterested inquiry which seeks to transform the
subjective reality of the other, according to the principle of presence, into
an objective, reified entity to be manipulated within a culturally hegemonic
world order. Anthropological knowledge, as science, can be used for both good
and evil, and the author of this knowledge cannot be held responsible for what
others may or may not do with it. It is the power and value intrinsic to
anthropological knowledge that we must learn to appreciate and by which we
should seek to judge it--and not the purposes to which it has been or will be
put.
On the other hand, all anthropologists, as human beings,
have an ethical responsibility to the people they study that must transcend
and come before their professional obligations or interests as
anthropologists. Anthropology that deals with human relations cannot be
totally disinterested or subjectively uninvolved--it then becomes at best
hypocrisy, and at worst, a danger to human freedom. back
8
The ART of ANTHROPOLOGY
Heretical Humanism in the Field
Good ethnography, like good art, succeeds at the test of
time.
Most professional anthropologists who hold strongly
to an ethos of a scientific anthropology would regard the idea of ethnography
as an "art" as blasphemous, and yet this is precisely what I would
contend that ethnography is and has been in most instances. Knowingly or not,
every would-be ethnographer carries into the field a range of models, sets of
anthropological experiences, and a "tool kit" composed of proven
techniques, tricks of the trade, and special tactics. The ethnographer,
whatever her/his prior expectations or designs, is bound to encounter a series
of events which will require ad hoc decision-making and fast and loose cutting
and pasting. The ethnographic project is always guided, from start to finish,
by the final goal of writing a good ethnography. The medium that the
ethnographer as artist has to work with is the information, the
"data", which s/he is able to elicit from involvements, observations
and informants within the field setting. The intent of the ethnographer in
her/his project is to draw out from this material a sense of pattern, a
configuration, a form, which has some degree of aesthetic value and integrity.
The artist becomes as a poet, a painter or a sculptor in creating a vision of
human reality that has a sublime sense of aesthetic vitality. As an art form,
its criteria of validity and acceptability are inherently different than those
we conventionally apply to our science.
What the ethnographer produces, like the artist, is an
artefact that embodies in itself a new vision, a vital idea that serves to
augment the sense of reality from which it was drawn.
Like all artwork, the scientific question can always be
asked as to whether or not the representation is realistic or not, or if
biased or distorted, then in what ways. But this is not the question the
ethnographer, as artist, must normally ask her/himself unless s/he is intent
on doing realistic ethnography.
The key question is if good art, whether poetry or painting
or ethnography, has an equivalent power to science to inform its audience
about something significant in reality. We do not criticize ethnography for
being poor science, but for having been poor art.
The appropriate attitude of the ethnography, as artist, is
one of an open and honest vision of the world. This is the difference between
art and propaganda, and is part of a basic conflict between the function of
art in relation to religion and symbolic ideology. From this standpoint, as
Marshall Mcluhan wrote, the artist is the anti-environmental sleuth who is not
comfortable with the received, "correct" version of reality. About
the most that can be said of art as propaganda is that it is most liable to
suffer the fate of its own mediocrity--its stratigraphic taphination,
fossilization and "petrification" as a dead artifact and anachronism
of a bygone era. Viable art has a certain vital "elan" about it
which resists such ossification--the distinguishing mark of its vitality is
its capacity to stimulate fresh and newer meanings with each rereading. An
artist may choose to work with symbolic thema that is essentially religious or
ideological, and do a superb job of it, but not for religious or ideological
reasons.
While the ethnographer does have an obligation to stick to
the facts, as must as this is possible, and therefore does not have the same
kind of imaginative freedom as a novelist or storyteller, this falls short of
meeting the stricter scientific criteria of "replicability" and
"falsification." The anthropologist as scientist may sample a
statistical universe and submit findings for review and retesting by other
colleagues of the scientific community, but the ethnographer as artist does
not have a commitment to produce a repetitious account of the "really
real."
The value of ethnography is not the rhetorical or ertistic
value to persuade its readership of its "truth." It is the
witness-value of a first or second or third hand testimony that is publically
open for weighing and evaluation. Perhaps anthropologists have too
conveniently depended upon this witness-value--"I came, I saw, I
conquered"--approach in their ethnography--leaving their presence, as a
matter of good "style", for the reader to take for granted.
Ethnographers have also been known to be masters of certain literary tricks of
the trade, certain contrivances, allusions, convenient or commanding
metaphors, etc., to lull the reader into a certain naive gullibility in
accepting the authenticity of the vision represented. It is often undesirable
to describe every detail of one's ethnographic involvement--leaving it for the
reader to sort through and decide which are relevant or irrelevant to the
theme.
The effectiveness of ethnography of art critically depends
upon the openness and honesty of the ethnographer. Art depends utmost upon an
open and honest view of the world, one that resists the deception and
illusions of preconstructed points of view. The witnessing of ethnography in
the field must often go uncontested. We are often left without any choice but
to take the word of the anthropologist as the first and last, because no other
testimony may be available. But even the sincerest and most well intentioned
of ethnographer's may still see the world in a fundamentally biased
way--honesty has its own relativity of truth about it--as has been attested to
by the ethnographic work of many missionaries and priests. Though rooted in
honesty, the vision of the artist also depends upon critical skepticism which
questions all received forms as these are presented to experience. This
fundamental doubting leads the artist, via her/his work, upon a course of
discovery in the world of unknown possibilities which leads to the
reconstruction of a world more genuine than the one from which it departed.
This is one of the prerogatives of the ethnographer as
artist. All art work, as representations of reality, are artifices and
simplifications of reality. All such artwork involves distortion and selective
bias. Art would not succeed otherwise. The virtue and integrity of any work of
art is intrinsic to its own design, and transcends the considerations of its
context of production or appreciation.
But we must also resist the fallacy that those who critique
ethnography from the standpoint of literary criticism commonly make, to
confuse ethnography as just another genre of fictional literature which
resonates, however awkwardly or brilliantly, with its own symbolic mythoi.
This is the rub that drives experienced anthropologists crazy with the radical
literary account of what they do--anyone who has spent a significant amount of
time in the field will understand the disdain for those who haven't and yet
presume to be able to judge the merits of their work. As an art form,
ethnography constitutes its own specialized genre, one which is not fictional
so much as fictionalized, facticious if not factual--the merit of ethnography
is determined upon its ability to frame the "facts" and remain as
close as possible to the "history." In this sense, ethnography
shares more with narrative history or journalistic reporting than it does with
fictional literature or poetry. It can be poetic in style and force, but it
faces the challenge of artistically recording and recovering the
"realissum" of reality.
An artist with a keen eye and a creative imagination can
often create a vision of reality that is more real than reality.
No doubt that a good novel will reveal dimensions of human
reality the surface of which a scientific ethnography cannot even scratch. In
this regard we can legitimately refer to the virtue of the aesthetic
sensitivity and sensibility of the ethnographer as artist--to what might be
called ethnographic virtuosity in being able to turn a vision of reality into
a good story while still sticking to the "facts."
Sometimes, even severely scientific ethnographies achieve
such virtuosity and become as aesthetically viable as they are scientifically
interesting or information, while oftentimes ethnography framed as poetry
fails in its virtuosity as a work of art. In other words, even science can
have its aesthetic virtues that many works of art lack.
The training of good ethnographer's may not necessarily
depend upon the development of a hypercritical, and often hypocritical,
outlook upon the world--such exclusive criticality is often anathema to
aesthetic awareness that depends primarily upon the ability to achieve an
atunement, and an "appreciation" of phenomena. It is the critical
difference between looking and "seeing"--to take "notice"
of something as a "thing in itself." If we teach student's of
anthropology to be mere critical of their world, without first showing them
how to appreciate and involve themselves in the phenomena of the world, in its
own terms, then we are producing imbalanced ego's lacking in the capacity to
experience reality, with reversed priorities to judge before they see.
We can also in this regard refer to the therapeutic
function of ethnography as art to integrate in a meaningful way the
"marginalia" of experience, and at the same time to provide the
"anti-structural" relativization of "normality" by which
identity and difference achieve value. This is just the reverse of a
"nihilating" function to critically destruct and therefore obfuscate
marginal realities. The ethnographer as artist yields a productive
interpretation of realities that would otherwise remain foreign and
strange--in the process estranging the normal realities with which we are
familiar. It is just this, an interpretation of reality, a representation, and
not the presentation of reality itself. It is not the ethnographer who
necessarily reifies reality, wether ethnography becomes used to reaffirm some
cognitive, symbolic or moral order or not is another, ethical, not aesthetic,
manner.
*****
The perspective of anthropological research, especially
participant-observation, as phenomenological process, has always been readily
apparent and available, but nowhere has it been fully exploited for its
implications for such research. Similarly, the view of human reality as
phenomenological process has largely been left unaddressed by serious theory,
except in more recent ethnographic accounts which deal with "pathways of
practice" and which attempt to bring the subject-centered world back into
focus--this is inspite of the belief that the anthropological construction of
human reality is irreducibly "phenomenological" in its subjective
ordering of human experience.
The phenomenological process of anthropological research
can be seen from two points of view. The first is that of the researchers own
streams of conscious experience and transformations as s/he moves from
beginning to end of research projects. The phenomenologicality of this
perspective presents an inherent "witnessing." It is through such
witnessing that the researcher becomes placed in a strategic,
"pan-optic" point of view which offers the possibility of not only
destructing the previous order of experience, of passing from one field to
another different field and therefore demonstrating the situated, differential
relativity of knowledge, but of also reintegrating this order in a new way.
This strategic location of the participant observing researcher occurs not
only in the "ethnographic field" but in the "field of
anthropology" as a whole as but part of a larger "field of
Mind." It is accomplished because the research presents to himself as
wide a variety or variation of experiences as possible, experiences which
would normally or otherwise prove disruptive or unlikely, and thus provides
her/himself the potentiality for the subjective incorporation and
reintegration of a new range of experiences. This strategic locating of the
researcher coincides with a critical moment during which the research is able
to fully exploit and capitalize upon the experiential resources made
phenomenologically available--it is a moment in which a new vision of reality
may be born.
The experience of the ethnographer is framed in terms that
are subject to disruption. The encounter of alien experiences leads the
ethnographer to elicit subconscious frames which then become subject to
disruption and which require reevaluation. This process continues until a
state of phenomenological "fusion" is reached in the state of mind
of the ethnographer, one that does not entail the energy invested in
reinforcing preconceived frameworks and the reinterpretation of experience.
The phenomenology of the observed, versus that of the
participant, presents another kind of perspective that the researcher must
deal with. Part of the implication of the phenomenology of the anthropology of
knowledge is "getting behind veil" and into the heads and hearts of
the other--the exploration and coming to understand the subjective perspective
of the other's experiences, feelings, beliefs and intentions. This presents
from the researcher's perspective, as an observer, versus a phenomenologically
oriented participant, a critical phenomenological horizon to the experience of
the researcher which the ethnographer is challenged to overpass and thereby
expand. It is assumed that the native point of view is not just an important
perspective, but is critical unexpendable in the phenomenological realization
of human experience. Our anthropology cannot go without it, because it
provides an important boundary and challenge to our own frames of experience.
Penetrating the veil of phenomenological experience
requires a "fusion" of the horizons of the observer and observed, of
the phenomenological experience of the participant and the observer. The
phenomenological experience of the other does not remain totally inaccessible
or unavailable to the researcher--but its position in the strategic
perspective of the researcher always remains somewhat problematic and
paradoxical.
Passing into the world of the other usually proves much
more circumspect and indirect than a simple straightforward projection would
appear. It is a series of gateways and passages in a complex labyrinth of
experience. We approach its center without really knowing where we are in
relation to its periphery. We are caught up within its forest of subjectivity
and our map is based upon the phenomonological history of our own pathways. We
may be right by the center, and not realize it, we may be going in circles and
think we are going in a striaght line--going south while headed north.
The strategic power of the phenomenological research is
always complemented and constrained by the phenomenological power of the other
to obfuscate and the dependency upon the researcher upon the witness and
testimony of the other to guide the research into its world. We cannot
penetrate the world of the other without their willing acceptance and
mediation. The other then becomes the mid-wife to the birth of the
researcher's phenomenological baby.
*****
These considerations lead to a related notion of
"existential ethnography" taken in a similar way that Jean-Paul
Sartre autobiographically framed his own life-experiences as well as those
existential "raison d'etre" of artists.
Existential ethnography; effectively combines both the
phenomenological perspective of the researcher and that of the other in to an
aesthetically and ethically integrated synthesis.
The existential perspective of the ethnographer, involves a
series of existential dilemmas and decisions, a phenomenological train of
situational encounters in which the ethnographer must act and choose paths.
Often serendipidity becomes involved in this process, but also a mysterious
form of synchronicity and "kharma" in which the ethnographer's
intuition leads to the predicated discovery or encounter. There is much risk
in this process, because it entails an openness of the ethnographer that can
be easily victimized by the other. At every turn, encounters force upon the
ethnographer choices which are not just aesthetically or anthropologically
significant, but which also have an intrinsic ethical dimension. The
ethnographer must choose, for better or worse.
The existentiality of the other's world is perhaps the goal
of the ethnographer's journey. It is to describe/explicate the significant,
phenomonological life-world of the other in terms of that other's existential
"reason for being" and delimmas for existential encounter. The
exploration and discovery of such reason for being may be elusive or oblvious
to the other. But its investigation is based upon the faith that there is an
important "phenomenological sense of order" in every human beings
life--if we are all by definition subjectively sentient. This means that even
insane people, who from a normal perspective may seem to lack any order at
all, may exhibit nevertheless an internal sense of order--an wonderland kind
of world, which is more ordered than sanity, or else a kind of order of
disorder. But existential reason for being exists not just exclusively in
terms of the phenomenological process of the other's subjective, inner
experiences--their existential dilemma is rooted in a wider life-world whose
avenues branch out in many directions, and which has its own raison d'etre.
The foundation of the meaning of being human in the world
is centrally located in this existential reason for being of the
phenomenological other. This "reason for being" is to be contrasted
with the "purpose for becoming" which either the ethnographer may
ascribe to the other, (in terms of development, equality, etc.) or which the
other may ascribe to himself or to the ethnographer. The "purpose for
becoming" entails the superimposition of an alien, objective perspective
upon existential world, constraining it in human ways it would not otherwise
have been constrained.
Part of the principle of a person's reason for being is
that we are all, as human beings, "culture bearers" and it is this
fact which constrains how we construct and order our experiences and make
"sense" of the world. The anthropological paradox of humankind's
reason for being in the world is that for each individual it is culture
historically unique and different from any other's. This makes a
phenomenological, idiographic approach to its understanding paramount. And yet
we all similarly share in the burden and consequences of such a reason for
being in our lives that we cannot escape, except perhaps in death or madness.
In this regard, we might refer to "ethnographic
ego" as incorporating the "ethnographic self" and the
"ethnographic other." It is neither the experience of the
ethnographer nor the subject/object of her/his research. It's theoretical,
scientific counterpart is what I refer to as the "anthropological
ego"--the "subject-centered human reality." It is what emerges
as the phenomenological birthing process proceeds to its resolution. It is a
transcendent sense of identity that is based upon the incorporation of
differences--it is the sense of human reality that results from existential
ethnography. back
Part II
The Anthropology of Knowledge
Taking its lead from the sociology
of knowledge, we can construe the question of the anthropology of knowledge as
being centrally focused upon the problem of the anthropological construction
of human reality and of the culturally constructed "facticity" and
"historicity" of human knowledge in the world. We must see the
problem of the knowledge of anthropology as inextricably enmeshed in the
problem of the anthropology of knowledge, conferring an inherent paradox of the
reflexivity of anthropological understanding of human reality.
9
The ANTHROPOLOGICAL CONSTRUCTION of REALITY
What would be the human tidal wave to sweep clean the slate
of history?
Leaving aside the sticky issue of the reflexive paradox of
the anthropological "reconstruction" of the anthropological
construction of human reality, the scientifically objective point of view is
taken of human reality as a process of anthropological construction--of
humankind making itself in the world while reconstructing the world in itself.
Peter Berger and Thomas Luckman's "The Social Construction of
Reality" (1967) provides, as a seminal essay in the sociology of
knowledge, the platform for the anthropological construction of reality. They
wrote of the centrality of language as both the basis for the public stock of
knowledge reinforcing "objectivity" and as a subjectively
reinforcing "conversational apparatus," of the convergence of the
three dialectically related processes of externalization, objectivation and
reification, and internalization during the critical "moment" of
socialization in which a social world reproduces itself in the individual and
the individual produces her/himself in the world. They mention both an
anthropological theory of the order of acquisition of human symbolic capacity
and of uniquely human "world openness" which allowed humankind to
remake itself in the world, and of the human incorporation of social processes
as if natural, the expression of natural factors as if social, and the
necessary dialectical balance between social and natural, ideal and real
forces in the construction of reality. They refer to a psychological theory of
discrepant internalized realities due to incomplete primary socialization or
contradictory secondary socialization. Nevertheless, the work is to be
critiqued as privileging a sociological and social structural framework, and
of implicitly rendering as of secondary and derivative importance either
anthropological or psychological alternatives. Any outline of a theory of the
anthropological construction of reality must strike a delicate balance between
psychological and sociological versions, and we may then speak of the
inauguration of a genuinely scientific "anthropology of knowledge."
Taking our lead from a Post-Modern point of view, we can
calmly claim that Anthropology is a construction of human reality. It is not
human reality itself, except inasmuch as this too is anthropologically
constructed, nor is it a "reconstruction" implying that there was
ever something originally "constructed".
If it is constructed, then it is a special kind of
construction. From the standpoint of the sociology of knowledge, we can refer
to the classic case of the social construction of reality. We speak of the
tripartite dialectic in which humankind externalizes its reality, reifies this
external construction, and then subsequently internalizes what it originally
externalized as if a natural part of itself, all three phases coming together
during the critical moment of the socialization of the individual through
which a society reproduces and perpetuates itself.
This formal dialectical structure of the social
construction of reality can be seen as privileging a structural, sociological
account of human reality, albeit a comprehensive and inclusive one, which
casts the possibility of the "psychological construction of reality"
as but the consequence of the process of socialization. A model of the
psychological construction of reality, coming from a psychology of knowledge
perspective, would probably reverse this order such that humankind would make
its external world a reflection of its internal designs--the projective stage
upon which all the human emotions, mentations, drives, play themselves out.
From an alternative point of view of the anthropological
construction of reality, there is good reason to seek some kind of middle
ground between the sociological and psychological poles. It would privilege
neither perspective in its attempt to seek a balance between them.
The anthropological construction of reality then would
derive from a kind of anthropology of knowledge, one which, like its
counterparts in sociology or psychology, would necessarily open the doors of
understanding onto a world of relativistic paradox. Such a perspective would
also have to embrace the inherent reflexivity of "trying to push the bus
while remaining on the bus"--the anthropology of knowledge is necessarily
a constructed anthropology.
The question remains as to what precisely such a reflexive
"anthropological construction of human reality" would amount to. It
would combine both the objective elements of the sociological construction of
reality with the subjective elements of a psychological construction of
reality, and it would recast this recombination as the "cultural"
elements of human reality. Culture would be seen as existing somewhere within
the no-human's-land between "Self" and "Other", or between
many selves and others. It is demarcated by the phenomenological patternings
of interaction between many different selves, seen internally, and many
different others, viewed externally. If humankind is by necessity a social
being, it has also become irremedially a highly individuated, interiorized
being.
Of course, as with the social construction of reality,
language is to be seen as a central mediating mechanism of the entire cultural
process. From the standpoint of our linguistic encoding of a "common
stock of knowledge" which nevertheless has a differential landscape of
saliency, we can speak of cultural codes and cognitively internalized maps of
the cultural world that remain in the implicit relational fields of our world.
These codes are schematic chunks that are transmitted between individuals and
between generations, and which, in the process of transmission, become
gradually modified. From an internal point of view, these cultural codes and
the patterning of their interrelationship remain remarkable conservative, and
yet retain a capacity for chaotic reorganization. Language comes to embody and
contain within it the entire cultural field of meaning.
Because it is the medium of primary enculturation, the
language, and all that it encodes, takes on a degree of "subjective
inevitability" that reaches the level of primary process, of
psychological primacy, that it becomes, in the process of its acquisition,
organic. The integration that exists in one's effective life-world, one which
exists within a viable cultural context composed of significant others,
becomes the foundation, and the reflection, of the integration that comes
naturally within the self. At this point, we cannot clearly separate what is
nature and what is nurture, or what is internal and what is external, as
others are in us and we are in others. This is called primary bonding, and,
upon an unconscious level, becomes a near total imperative in our lives.
The language that is the principle medium of our cultural
instruction and information about the world becomes also the primary mechanism
for the mediation between inner and outer worlds, between self and others--it
is no coincidence that so many pathological psychic process are evidenced in
terms of linguistic disorder. Language is more than a kind of
"conversational apparatus" for reinforcing the subjectively
internalized constructions of reality. It is in a sense the active substance
of meaning, the actual construction of the cultural world--a construction that
has both internal, psychological resonances and external, sociological
reverberations. For the ephemeral moment of its being thought or spoken, for
the brief period of its scope and intentionality, language precipitates the
culturally constructed sense of reality--as both unconscious ground and as
social background or cultural context--as the vehicle of world knowledge and
of common sense.
What we refer to as the objectivation of constructed
knowledge and its subsequent "reification" in the world, is in fact
the process of the concrete precipitation of cultural meaning in the world
through communication. It amounts to the realization of cultural reality and
its process, somewhere in the no-human's-land between self and other. However
briefly, realities merge instead of colliding--figure and ground become a
single totality--and meaning is made.
It is to be seen from this standpoint that what we are
accomplishing with our science, and our anthropology as science, is the
construction of an alternative cultural language, one which transcends the
historical contingencies of the cultural process but which is nevertheless
susceptible to these contingencies, and one that can maintain an objective
dialectic beyond the dialectic that is part of the normal processes of human
reality. Our sciences accomplish this feat of objective transcendence of the
cultural ordering of human reality by forcing knowledge to meet certain
rigorous standards of control--that it is publically universal, or open
knowledge, and that its terms of communication are not restricted by internal,
privatized definitions, but remain relatively or potentially available to
everyone. By its reflexiveness, anthropological science, and the science of
anthropology, as linguistically encoded, behaviorally expressed constructions
of human reality, transcends its own dialectic while remain within the bounds
of the terms of its dialectic.
We must see the achievements of technological progress, of
social organization and scientific development, as but extensions of this
cultural process in the anthropological construction of reality--our world has
become, for better or worse, a human-made world which nevertheless remains
susceptible to all the whims and vagaries of human nature.
*****
A psychological version of the model of the social
construction of reality might reverse the order of presentation, such that the
issues of internalization, socialization and the positing of subjective
structures of knowledge would come before their reification and subsequent
externalization in the larger world. Like the hen or the egg question, we
cannot really say which should come first, and it is on this kind of dilemma
that the holism of an anthropological version of reality pivots. The holism of
such an anthropological version does not preclude analysis of the processes of
the human construction of reality, but only renders all such analysis
conditional to a kind of stochastic symmetry between knowledge and reality,
and our own anthropological self-awareness.
Any such theory must contain the following elements: 1. An
explanation of enculturation and the internalization of the external human
reality within the human, and an account of the organic processes which are
inextricably tied to such enculturation and internalization. 2. A theory of
mythological symbolization and of symbolic processes of projection and
informal "fallacy" which permit humankind to organize its behavioral
realities on the basis of internalized beliefs and symbolic schemas. 3. A
theory of the historical embedding of the anthropological constructions of
reality upon many different levels and the framing and precipitation of
cultural experience by this embeddedness. 4. A theory of the functional
grammar of language as a broader social phenomena and as social praxis which
is both psychologically constrained and psychologically constraining. 5. An
anthropological theory of meaning which sees information as a kind of
parallel-processing dialectic which goes on simultaneously upon the different
levels, on a broader socio-structural level in terms of roles and status
identities, on an interpersonal level of dialogical and nonverbal interaction,
on a psychological level of the internal functioning of the personality, upon
a biological level of the organic functioning of the brain, and even of the
genome, itself. 6. An accounting of a kind of anthropological relativity and
relativism of knowledge, understanding that is intrinsically, normatively
arbitrary and descriptively nondiscrete, that is historically and culturally
constrained and constraining, that is socially conditioned and conditional,
psychologically centered, and even from a purely perceptual point of view,
that is fundamentally "representational" rather than
"presentational" about human reality. 7. Finally, any such theory of
the anthropological construction of reality must provide an adequate account
of human paradox, the source of anxiety and "antinomality" within
knowledge, and of the anthropological role of science in the resolution of
such paradox, a question which must inevitably confront the issue of the
reflexive anthropological reconstruction of the anthropological construction
of reality.
*****
For humankind, nature and culture and mind and body are
inextricably fused as a single synergistically integrated reality. The
inherent "world openness" of human being is linked to the fact that
our behavior is not instinctually determined--becoming free from the bondage
of instinct allowed us to slip out of the fold that natural selection provided
our progenitors. It meant that we faced an imperative of cultural
dependency--to be complete we must incorporate into our organic being as if
natural a cultural contrived substitute for our loss of nature. It also meant
that our cultural realities would become the primary vehicles for expression
of our innate drives and needs. It also gave us our first curse of our
capacity to incorporate into our being as if natural and automatic things
which are of humanmade construction--things which are by definition
"cultural." And we cannot clearly say whether it was our first
rudimentary cultural artifacts, our guttural gesticulations, our first efforts
with our fumbling fingers to hew a stone, or the first fire that sparked the
imagination, which freed us from the burden and security of our instinctual
dependency, or whether it was our liberation from our own biological drives
and needs which fostered our first capacity for culture. More likely it was a
kind of dialectical cybernesis.
What remains certain is that this process involved both
belief as well as behavior. It freed the mind as well as the body--and also
that it occurred simultaneously upon several different levels of human
experience. I will refer to this as "organic process" and will make
the distinction between "primary process", "secondary
process," "phenomenological process" and "social
process". Primary process refers to the acquisition and internalization
of cultural traits at a level that is organically "natural" and
automatic. Secondary process refers to the subsequent acquisition of traits in
terms of identification, habituation, appetites and aversions on a level which
remains available to our awareness and yet usually out of our awareness.
Phenomenological process refers to the kind of dialogical
"structuration" and "pathways of praxis" by which we
biographically, idiographically arrange our lives. Social process, or
structuration, refers to the wider socio-structural patterns, the networks and
social action, mobilization and mobility of social resources, the constraints
and screens of opportunity, the labeling, reference and status-role
assignation which impinge upon our world and our lives in so many ways.
Historical process, or "transculturation," refers to wider processes
of intercultural exchange, contact and historical civilization.
*****
We can speak of internalized cultural schemas, codes,
models, cognitive maps and the symbolic, emblematic organization of experience
in terms of experience, expectation and encounter by which humankind must
frame, evaluate and respond adaptively to its environment. Humankind is always
faced with a basic existential decision to modify its internalized scaffolding
of human reality to better fit its experiences in the world, or else to
attempt to moderate its external experiences in order to fit its internalized
framework. And in this regard we can more often than not be regarded as
neurotic failures.
It should go without saying that such internalized mapping
of the world occurs primary in terms of mythological and symbological process
in which we ask of symbolic forms and functions, emblems and icons, the double
duty of standing for many things at once and to often stand in place of the
realities it represents. And in terms of this fundamental process, one which
entails psychological processes of repression and projection, rationalization
and delusion, the average modern human being is not fundamenally different
from his most "primitive" forebearers. The savage mind is indeed
incapable of the modern paradox of admiring a good hater.
Cultural constructs, traits, knowledge and experience
becomes historically embedded both within the personality and within social
patterning as praxis. This embedding entails a kind of conservative resistance
to radical change as well as a kind of perverse "history of unintended
consequences"--the chaotic history of underdetermined multifactorial
systems. We can speak of a kind of historical momentum that carries the human
world forward down its own course to construction and destruction. It is a
momentum that accretes itself in ideology and systems of rationalization, in
religious systems of ritual, mythology, of belief and value, in social custom
and constraint, as well as within the internalized, socially reinforced
character of the individual personality.
Diverse cultural schema become reiterated, recreated,
revitalized and in the process reworked and modified in the successive
performances and reproduction of cultural reality. In this regard we may also
refer to a kind of cultural "unconscious" which remains contextually
embedded in both the environment and our effective experiences of our life
worlds, one which tends to be all encompassing and "larger than
life" in appearance. It conditions and constrains not only our individual
and social action, even the possibilities for such action and intention in the
world. Because of its all consuming embeddedness in both our common sense and
our consensus, it remains normally out-of-awareness, given, taken for granted,
tacit only, beyond the ordinary purview of our critical faculties or our
conscious control. And yet it constitutes the socially real substrate for our
consciousness, for our capacity for inference, belief, for our normative
decision-making and even our imagination and creativity.
From this standpoint that we can reconsider an
anthropological version of a "functional theory" of grammar, and,
implicitly, a theory of "mind." This theory must contrast with the
predominant structural psycho-linguistic paradigm that explains language
primarily in terms of its organic foundation in the brain and precludes the
analysis of language as a social, cultural and historical phenomenon. Language
as social process can be seen to be a nested cluster of contextual frames and
figures within yet other frames and figures of signification. These symbolic,
linguistically encoded frames are not unlimited, but constitute a minimal,
paradigmatic set defined upon limited number of definitional dimensions and
design. They remain prototypically, statistically "basic" in their
derivation from and of human experience, and they are polythetically
constituted. These basic, primary frames are "universal" in the
sense that they underly the range of human variation. Derivative
transformational rules, culturally and historically specific, are applied to
these paradigmatic frames in such a way as to render speech production
generative and the possibilities for linguistic permutation boundless.
Both linguistic frames, and the transformational rules
applied to these frames, become embedded and internalized to the point of
"native speaker intuition". The frames are, by design, intuitively
self-evident and immediately available to human awareness. Such a capacity
comes from our superb faculties for pattern recognition, faculties that allow
us to keep everything else implicitly constant while we can focus our
conscious attention upon particular "figures" which are changing
within our field of view. The innate capacity for such linguistic acquisition
is as much a function of the generalized capacity and organization of the mind
as it is a matter of any localized, specialized seat of syntactic organization
or of universal deep grammar in the brain. The capacity of the human mind is
to store knowledge frames within other overlapping knowledge frames in such a
way that a limited capacity can yield an unlimited range of possibility. The
organization of the human mind relies upon the ability to accommodate and
assimilate minor adjustments and shifts in patterning while keeping all other
frameworks in a "steady state"--a kind of frequency modulation
similar to the functioning of a television set. It also relies upon a
background field of passive, instantaneous recognition from which it
configures experience, and upon a trick of "passive processing" of
information that does not require our conscious attention. It is a
"trick" that the mind plays upon our awareness to fill in the gaps,
to render as if animated and continuous the flow of experience what may in
actuality be a discontinous series of events or discrete series or array of
signals.
*****
Pan-linguistic frames and mention of mind brings to bear
the critical question of the anthropological construction of meaning in human
reality. Meaning is not arbitrary in the construction of reality. It is
conventionally constrained and historically condtioned. Meaning is embedded
within the Mind and enacted in the world. Meaning is a universal field of
significance and possibility that remains implicit in the organization of
human consciousness and experience. It can be seen as a human horizon and
universal human context of consciousness which is itself multidimensional and
mulitleveled.
Meaning is constituted by the mediation of boundaries
between two or more parallel but dialectically interactive sets that produce
constructive and destructive patterns of interference. It can be seen as
multi-lateral symmetry/assymmetry and complex dialetical system of cybernesis.
It occurs in the split structure of DNA codes, in the hemispherical
lateralization of brain function, in the dialogical interaction between self
and other, as well as in the internalized dichotomy between ego and id, or
superego and ego, or between conscious and subconscious, or presented sense of
self and background self, and also on a larger social frame work between
people defined by status-role identity and corporate superoganizational ethos.
Meaning is the by-product, an epi-phenomenal patterning, the residuum of our
principle existential challenge to deal adaptively with change, chaos and
entropy in the natural order of things. It nevertheless becomes the
mythological ground of our being to which we primarily refer our experiences
of change--though derived from change it comes to constitute the basis for
change in our culturally constructed world.
*****
We are left to reconsider the general problematic posed by
the anthropological relativity of our knowledge, and the paradoxically
reflexive relativism of our understanding of this relativity. Human knowledge,
culturally constructed and organically embedded, is neither unlimited nor
universal in its purview. The field of meaning consists of an epigenetic,
convoluting topography of the mind. It is both historically and culturally
variable. There are different regions and localities of mind in the world that
remain mostly resistant to translation. We can transcribe signals, translate
significations, interpret definitions and evaluate foreign symbolisms, we can
even get into the heads of others, but we cannot readily transfer one range of
meaning or superimpose one area of the field upon another without undue
distortion.
Such anthropological relativity has certain implications
for our world. It entails the possibility that disease and illness may be as
much a phenomenon of social pathology as it is a question of biological or
organismic health or dysfunction. It entails the impossibility of rendering
absolute, nonarbitrary judgements about the qualitative status of human events
in the world. It does not preclude the possibility of universally general
"covering laws" but renders these highly unlikely and always
conditional to specification. It entails a statistically determined yet
undertermined model of reality. It entails the inexorable antinomal paradoxes
of trying to define infinities in finite terms, finite things in terms which
are infinite, of capturing change in terms of things which seem static, of
finding unity in diversity and identity in difference, of making the strange
familiar, and rendering discrete that which appears continuous.
Anthropological relativity entails that our science of
anthropology and our anthropology of science shall remain a metalogical
exercise in reflexive, apperceptive human awareness. It guarantees that our
constructions of reality, however validated, shall remain irreducibly human
constructions, and that our knowledge and experience of the world, however
objectively based, shall remain inherently subjective in constitution. It
reminds us that our belief in the materially real, alienated objectivity of
our knowledge of the world is but a delusion, a trick of our imagination upon
reality. We cannot know or even imagine a world that is not a humanly
constructed one--for in our very act of imagining or knowing, we are
constructing it in our own image. back
10
.c.ANTHROPOGENESIS
.c.The Origins of Humankind
Our origin is our natural liberation and cultural bondage
The complete origin story of .i.human beginnings; will
probably always remain shrouded in silent mystery. But we have accumulated and
analyzed a substantial amount of evidence to enable us to assert with
confidence some basic pieces of the human evolutionary framework. We know, for
instance, that bipedalism preceded the marked increase in endocranial
development, which itself proceeded in a stepwise fashion over several million
years. We have an idea of the areas of the first australopithecines, and the
earliest tool associations. We have a general idea of when Humankind first
came to tame and depend upon fire. We know now that the factors of prolonged
infant child dependency, and the reproductive and productive role of the
mother in the transmission of early human proto-culture, must have played an
important role in the stimulus for cultural and cerebral development.
We no longer can look to simple models of tool use, or to
language, or to increased brain capacity, or social organization, as suitable,
prime mover explanations for the beginnings of humankind. Our models of
.i.anthropogenesis; today must reflect the sophistication and the complexity
of our fossil record and associated genetic and primate evidence. We know that
all of these factors, along with others, were important parts of the process
of the emergence of human culture, but what we may never know is exactly how
or why these factors came together in such a way as to make anthropogenesis a
reality. What we confront with our patchy evidence is a problem of history, of
constructing the uncoverable parts in such a way that the resulting picture
satisfies all our questions. We can call it natural history, or the beginning
of human culture history, but it remains essentially an historical dilemma.
And in this it matters less whether the time depth is a thousand years or a
million, except that a million years is much further removed from the bounds
of normal human experience.
But the problem of .i.anthropogenesis; will always remain
an important question to be asked by anthropologists, not only because the
answers we give it will inevitably reflect our own contemporary concerns, our
own unconscious preoccupations, our own values and our own interests, but also
because the kind of answer we give to it will be a measure of how we
comprehend and construe other important aspects of human reality. This
includes how we understand human nature and culture, how we look at human
social organization and human character, how we see primary socialization and
the transmission and evolution of cultural traits.
Our answer to this question is important in yet another
way. How we fill in the question of our own origin is mythologically
fundamental to the sense of completeness of our human identity in the world.
In order to keep a relatively unbiased and universal sense of human identity,
we need to have an unbiased sense of our own beginnings.
Anthropogenesis must take into account the anthropological
processes of humankind making itself in the world for the first time. In this
process the role of language must figure as a central mechanism in a similar
central way which language figures in the development and primary acquisition
of the young child.
The human capacity for language is unique in the animal
kingdom, as are humankind's capacity for tool manufacture and use, and human
bipedality, year-round female estrus, prolonged infant dependency. From an
evolutionary standpoint these were perhaps minor adjustments to be
made--rather like the breeding of a strain of dairy cows from an originally
feral herd of bovine. They were perhaps transitions that were made within a
rather narrow window of space and time--but once accomplished having
revolutionary consequences for human adaptation and cultural advancement.
Perhaps they occurred only at one particular time and place, within a
relatively narrow frame, but once occurring, diffused rapidly to the furthest
boundaries of human habitation.
We must also see the complex of uniquely human traits that
are associated with anthropogenesis as in some way holistically integrated.
When they emerged, they either emerged together, or at least in tandem, such
that the acquisition of one trait opened the door for the acquisition of the
others.
It must also be seen that the development and subsequent
elaboration of this complex of human traits entailed or brought about certain
special environmental conditions that fostered such development. Perhaps our
original protohuman ancestors had carved themselves out of a particular
adaptive niche of the pleistocene. We can only speculate what this particular
niche was like, except that subsequent adaptive success must have led to an
adaptive radiation of the human species, to their subsequent differentiation
and elaboration of a range of different eco-niches
We can speculate that the early traits evolved in
adaptation in a rather specific and narrow econiche of one era, were in
someway triggered toward an adaptive generalization which allowed humankind to
break free of its natural selective pressures in subsequent periods. Perhaps
the triggering mechanism was the change in environment.
*****
We must learn to see as separate but interrelated processes
of anthropogenesis as the evolution of humankind and the cultural evolution of
human civilization. A theory of "gene-culture coevolution" would
want to see cultural evolution as secondary and subsequent to the
determinations of genetic evolution, closely tracking the biological evolution
of humankind. But genes may follow as much as lead cultural development, and
it seems more likely the case that cultural development gradually "took
off" the runway of anthropogenesis some remote time ago and was thus
launched on its own trajectory. We can only see a "biocultural
miracle" if we step back from the local details to take in the entire
panorama of the evolutionary process. Then the brief five million years of
hominid history pales in comparison to the three or four billion year history
of the fossil record of life on earth. It is certain that the kind of
selective regime predominant when humankind first evolved on earth are not the
same kind of selective regime which prevails today on an earth which is
becoming increasingly dominated by human civilization.
In the evolution of culture we must look to a few horizons
of significant changes. One was the development of agriculture and the
resulting development of stratified societies. Prior to this neolithic period,
people for the most part lacked the scale of social organization that became
possible afterward. The problem of the "prehistoric" period is to
explain the development and dynamics of small group cultural traditions--the
kind of gemeinschaft cultural groupings that has been stock in trade of
anthropological research. The problem of the "protohistoric" period
is to analyze the inception and transition toward state organization before
the period at which written records can be utilized as evidence. The historic
period proper begins with the institution of writing, and continues until
today. There is in this transition from a prehistoric, through proto-historic
to historic periods, a shift from kin-based mode of social organization and
production toward a corporate institutional mode.
There is a sense that in the prehistoric world, culture had
come to mean something very different than what it later became during the
historic era. The raison d'etre of cultural organization during the
prehistoric period was fundamentally altered by the time history had arrived
to document the changes that were going on. And the basis of these changes had
little or nothing to do with genetic evolution or modification. During the
prehistoric period, culture was in a sense more "complete" and
served a wider set of political purposes that it later came to signify--it had
not yet become the impersonal kind of constraint it was later to become in
peoples' lives. It had a deeply personal, and vital significance. Durkheim
referred to its sense of social solidarity as "mechanical" versus
the kind of compartmentalized and specialized "organic" solidarity
of later civilizations. Culture during the prehistoric period more directly
mediated the relationship between humankind and the natural world. It was
frequently humankinds first, last and only defense against the vicissitudes of
the natural order. Culture was a lifeboat, a means of survival, a plan for
action, and a proscription for taboos.
As history advanced, small culture became increasingly
embedded within a larger and larger context of sociocultural relations.
Culture became something limited and limiting, subordinated within a larger
socio-cultural field
Two basic processes are at work in cultural dynamics. These
are the innovation and transmission of cultural traits.
.i.Cultural traits; are largely like genes, and the process
of cultural transmission is in many ways analogous to genetic transmission.
The levels of significance for the two systems are different, and yet many of
the basic processes are the same-both may be seen as different levels of
articulation of the same field of relational meaning. Both may be construed as
dual or parallel-processing systems that function cybernetically and
anti-chaotically in a complex kind of dialectic. The kinds of forces and
factors impinging upon one level are separate from those operating at the
other level. If selection is occuring at the level of cultural evolution, it
is governed by paradigm very different from the kind of selective regime
operative upon a genetic level of evolution.
We can speak of basic and derived traits. The .i.invention;
or innovation of basic traits is virtually irreversible, and once coming into
being in the world, their subsequent transmission becomes practically
inevitable. Fire, the bow and arrow, the wheel, ideas of zero, all were basic
cultural traits which once having come into being, became more or less
permanent features of cultural reality. All fires may go out, but the idea of
fire will long remain to burn in the human imagination. Furthermore, these
kinds of basic innovations have been transformative of the cultural universe
of humankind. They permanently alter the calculus of ratios upon which
cultural selection and human success in the world are based. Of course, these
transformations often result in unintended consequences.
Derived .i.innovations; can be seen as the subsequent
revision, elaboration and refinement of basic traits to meet a broader range
of applications in the world.
It is this aspect of cultural evolution which has made the
advance of human civilization a fundamentally transcultural and irreversible
historical process. It ushers in a whole new era of change. It is essentially
a transcultural phenomenon because no single culture can forever claim an
exclusive monopoly upon a particular trait. The transcultural transmission of
traits, even just as an idea, becomes virtually guaranteed by the
acquisitiveness and interest of people who are able to see the consequences of
such innovation.
*****
What kinds of selective factors have been operating in the
course of human evolution and human history, and how have these influenced the
subsequent development of humankind.
Early .i.selection; must have favored certain capacities
and characteristics--these include the capacity for cultural acquisition,
linguistic competency, the physiological capacity to endure extreme physical
privation and stress such as hunger, long term thirst, etc. It may well be
that the character and capacity for aggressive violence has also played an
important part in human development--the stronger and more dominant have long
been selectively advantaged over the weak and submissive. In a similar way,
the capacity to make tools may have been a selective force in the emergence of
humankind--the capacity to make superior tools confering upon an individual,
and a group, an adaptive advantage. We see a similar force still operating in
human history when the possessor of superior technology comes to quickly
dominate and control those who lack such technology. Social dependency may
also have been a trait selected for--humans coming to increasingly need and
depend upon the joint labor of the group, and the resources of other groups,
for cultural adaptation and survival. It follows that the more sociable would
gain selective success over the less social. Evolution for human sexuality,
for sexual receptivity, may have also been selected for. Those children who
could bear children year-around, and those men who could steadily and
dependably provide for young mothers, were selected for.
The early evolutionary epoch of humankind must be
characterized as one of survival under conditions of extreme hardship and
physical stress. The lifespan of the average adult must have been relatively
short. The human body must have been adapted as an organism for enduring such
deprivation. Famine must have been frequent and pervasive, infant mortality
high, and degree of physical injury also high. Early life was brutal, bloody
and short, offering little hope for escape. The value of a woman would be
measured by her reproductive capacity, combined with her productivity in
procuring basic food resources to support herself, her offspring, and any
other attached people. The value of a man would have been his fearlessness and
ferociousness in attacking and dominating others and in defending himself and
his group against predators or other aggressors.
We confront a basic paradox in our model of this early
phase of human development. Human population, perhaps a driving force in
subsequent culture history, was always in a local sense "dense" but
in the global framework small. Early groups could have produced offspring
limitlessly. Excess population would always be drained off by an exogenous
pull. High mortality and early depradations tended to set natural limits to
the rate of increase and survival of the offspring of these early populations.
A continuous transgenerational fissioning and splintering
of locally overgrown groupings into smaller, dispersed groups, and the
gradually movement and spread of these groups across the uninhabited frontier
landscapes, must have been a fundamental pattern for most of human prehistory.
Early groups must have been highly susceptible to long periods of isolation in
which they had to be self-sufficient for their survival, and to frequent
episodes of violent, aggressive contact.
Early eras must have been characterized by a high rate of
transience and a basic lack of regularity or stability of social patterning.
Early transience may have been such that contact between groups may have been
unpredictable, erratic and irregular. Small bands may meet peacefully one year
only to vanish without a trace by the next. Human development was marked by
increasing regularity and stability of social groupings and relations between
groups.
If we are to mention other early selective factors
influencing early human evolutionary development, we might include selection
for a group orientation--in-group-out-group conscience--for an inherent
conservativism as well as for creative adaptation, and for a capacity for long
range strategic planning which allowed a group to calculate, and anticipate in
advance, the movements of other groups, etc.
There must have been an optimal range of adaptation for
survival. Groups that remained too home-bound or tied to a central place for
subsistence, probably faced the prospect of eventually being wiped out. Groups
that ranged too far out and abroad, and which wandered aimlessly without a
sense of habitual orientation, were probably quickly eliminated. There must
have been an intermediate range in which groups maintained a relatively wide
arc of external contacts and relations with a range of environments, but
focused this range upon a central home area, or even set of places to which
they could periodically retire. Such central places must have provided certain
safety nets in times of hardship--protection from predators or intruders,
access to fresh water and to some kind of dependable food resource.
Early existence involved a daily gamble for survival. One
wrong move could spell final disaster for an entire group. Those willing to
risk everything, or daring to risk nothing, eventually lost out. Only those
who could play the odds, risking here, sandbagging there, stood a chance of
winning out in the long run.
Selective forces and factors must have long been at play in
the development of humankind. These factors and forces must have been complex,
tending to cumulatively or synergistically add or detract from the
anthropological complex that was at the core of anthropogenesis. It an
erroneous misconception to try to link special significance to a single kind
of selective mechanism as decisive in the history of human evolution, or to a
single trait or even genetically linked set of traits that would be
systematically, overwhelmingly preferred over any other traits.
What we know is that all human groupings tend to be
relatively heterogeneous in their overall genetic composition. Biological
differences that exist between groups, differences in height, stature, skin
color, stamina, blood type, etc., tend to be minor and inconsistent when
compared to the complete profile of human traits and the total arc of human
possibility. Genetic inbreeding tended to favor a loss in overall fitness for
a group, and probably spelled the eventual demise of the group. Heterogeneity
was long maintained in the human gene pool by frequent cross overs between
groups.
We do not yet know exactly how selective factors may have
worked in the course of human history. They were certainly variable in their
influence. Selection working at one level or in one context may have been
overridden or reversed or neutralized by counter-selective forces operating at
another level. Selection must have been a complex set of influences operating
upon several levels simultaneously--it was rarely if ever a single cause with
a single set of consequences.
And the question remains unanswered as to how much
selection is necessary before its influence is noticeable or even decisive in
determining the direction of human development. What percentage of a
population over a given area must come under the purview of a given selective
regime, and how completely, before selection can be said to have been
effective in altering the subsequent course of human history.
And then there is also the necessary chaos that must always
be taken into any account of selective processes. Chaos may yield the entire
field to a single random event, a butterfly effect, and yet may prevent a
widespread selective agency from coming to fruition.
The chaos operating in the earliest phases of proto-human
development must have been at a sub-critical level. Local events or minor
perturbations, though many and frequent, would have little net consequence on
the entire course or sum of events in this evolutionary process--while the
chance for a single, major cataclysmic event affecting most human remained
relatively small.
It also remains fairly certain that the kind of selective
regime operating when humankind first emerged was not the kind of selective
regime which was operating at the neolithic dawn of human agricultural
civilization, or at the later dawn of historical civilization, or now in our
scientific technological epoch. The kind of selection operating today, if
there is any that is not canceled out in the complexity of the global system,
may be producing a kind of human very different from what we have witnessed in
the past or might imagine today.
We must distinguish between natural selection, cultural
selection, social selection and human selection;. Whatever kind of selection
we are referring to, we may talk about the same basic consequence of
selection--conferring reproductive success upon a specific individual, and
similar kind of individual, as well as success in trans-generational
transmission. Selection which leads to the procreation of a certain males
offspring may not have a net positive contribution if none of these offspring
survive and in turn continue procreation. The selective regime favoring the
procreation of the father may in fact disfavor the procreation of the
offspring.
A particular selective regime cannot be demonstrated by the
success of a single individual or even by a single generation--its
transgenerational success must be shown before its net value can be measured.
Selection must be seen as an entirely statistical kind of
phenomena, conferring advantage to one group over others entails game of odds.
Single instances may well prove to be the exception to the norm. Furthermore,
we can only hope to find measures of correlation between different factors, or
between different causes and their associated consequences.
The issue of the total effect and net complex of selection
cannot be taken in an exclusively particular or local context--it must always
be measured from a global standpoint of chaos.
Theory of human evolution recognizes the value of selection
for prosocial behavior. Those actions that favor the interests of the group
survival over and above the interests for individual organiismic survival. In
this regard we must refer to a kind of symbolic selection for sycophancy, for
the capacity to identify so strongly with the reified interests of the group
as to lead to self-sacrifice. We refer to kin-fitness, as well as to
species-fitness, and recognize as evidence of such eusocial behavior
altruistic and heroic acts of self-sacrifice for others survival. Similarly
so, we might as well also refer to self-fitness, or to class-fitness or
caste-fitness or to ethno-national-fitness. We must see in the willingness to
victimize and exploit another in order to advantage oneself the alternative to
much rarer ability to sacrifice oneself for one's family or for one's group.
Does a eugenic program by an upper caste necessarily build a super-race, or will
whatever effects that are produced be ephemeral and quickly nullified by
subsequent episodes of miscegenation. Does a program of genocide have a net
consequence unless it is 100 percent complete in exterminating a group--and
can
the group that is doing the exterminating really be sure that they do not have
any heterozygous "bad blood" coursing through their veins. Will
countless years of "higher" education or innumerable sessions of
psychotherapy necessarily produce a newer, improved generation of World
Systems Managers. Any formula for human fitness must beg the question of whose
fitness, and for how long.
Finally, what is the net product of all this selection. We
must somehow account with all our evolutionary algebra for the human
being--modern Homo saipiens saipiens--multicolored, a fast talker, big
brained, narrow-minded, variable stature, short-sighted, two-footed, hairless,
family oriented and helplessly dependent creature with a history of violent
tendencies. This is a strange and unique combination of traits that no single,
simple formula for fitness can fit.
11
REDEFINING ANTHROPOLOGICAL PROCESS
Anthropology at the Critical Juncture of Past and Present
Our human condition is the state of being forever unfinished
The Anthropology of Knowledge, elucidating the
anthropological construction of reality mediating the boundary between the
psychological and sociological, between self and other, subjective and
objective, must come to terms with the related concepts of Culture and
cultural character as these have played a critical part in the scientific and
humanistic integration of knowledge about human reality. Anthropology is
confronting its ultimate crises of its own boundary definition in the rapid
and mostly irreversible loss of cultural variability and viability on earth.
As different cultural orientations continue to converge and become submerged
within a globally stratified continuum of developmental modernization, the
opportunities for anthropologists to study their traditional subjects in the
time-honored manner of extended participant-observation, become
correspondingly fewer and further between. As a consequence, Anthropology is
left to either redefine its objects and methods of inquiry in a world which is
increasingly changing and becoming increasingly complicated in its social
patterning, borrowing upon other research traditions better equipped to treat
and investigate modern social settings, or else to risk its continual erosion
of identity as a crucial, critically relevant discipline of inquiry. It is
suggested that the solution to this anthropological crisis of identity will
not be found in bio-cultural reconstructions of a mythical past, in
developmental or applied anthropology projects, or in the retroflexive
critically styled self-alienation of the anthropologist but it may be found in
the confrontation and role of mediation of the challenges and contradictions
of a changing world.
The relative presence of Culture has been of
critical importance in both human evolutionary development as well as in
individual human development. The many parts played by culture in human
development can be referred to as "cultural process" and this
process can be seen as having had a continuous and continuously changing
influence upon the anthropological construction of reality, the ongoing
definition and redefinition of human beingness, or "humanness" and
of the human condition in the wider world. Culture itself, lacking any
well-agreed upon definition, can in part be defined by the shaping role it has
played in this developmental process. Risking a tautology, we can describe
culture as roughly those external, material, symbolic and social components
that are necessary to the normal, natural development of the human being.
Personal adornment and dress, language, aesthetic sensibilities and affective
expression, familial relationships, social values and attitudes toward social
relations, strategies and economies of food-getting and material acquisition,
technology, religious beliefs, collective representations, ritualistic
ceremonies, values of work and play, all must be seen as important cultural
components which have some differential bearing upon the development of the
human being and the human group from the earliest moments. Of course, child
culture can be seen as rudimentary or lacking in many of these respects, but
child-culture is in fact a sub-cultural extension of a broader adult world,
and the child normally has little if any choice but to share naively in the
full cultural life of its care-takers and compeers.
Human beings have come to depend upon culture as if this
were a vital "need" or condition for their survival and successful
development. Culture serves to continually support us and mediate for us basic
conflicts and existential challenges which we may be ill-equipped to deal with
if left to our own, organically defined resources. Indeed, we might well
reverse the conventional formula in this regard and say that it has not been
genes that have determined our cultural possibilities, but culture that has
constrained our genetic possibilities.
Humankind cannot be conceived of without culture. Culture
has long been a critical component of human reality--and yet for the most part
the role of cultural process in this most fundamental aspect remains largely
unexplained and unexamined. We search for culture in many strange places in
the world, and yet consistently fail to define the place of culture in
anthropogenesis and human development.
Culture undergoes a process of organic internalization as
it embeds itself upon the primary levels of human character. Simultaneously,
the sense of human beingness, the expression of organic drives, becomes
externalized upon a cultural constructed world, and comes to depend for its
expression upon such externalization. Culture, from a social-psychological and
psychosocial point of view, comes to mediate the boundary between the
culturally defined internal world of the individual and the organically
defined external world of living culture. Culture becomes vital in the sense
that it is an active, living linkage in human beingness. Cultural elements
mediate this boundary while simultaneously constituting the boundary. Culture
lies somewhere between the self and the other, the product of relation between
these two worlds.
From the standpoint of internalization, the emphasis upon
the subjective side of cultural process, in particular as a distinctive
contribution by anthropology to the understanding of human reality, is as
equally important as the focus upon its external "objective"
manifestations. Subjective evaluation and reevaluation of culturally derived
characteristics have an historical consequence in human development and
change.
If we define culture as that externalized and internalized
portion of human acquisition and adaptation, those means of cooperative social
behavior which have helped to free humankind from the natural preoccupation
with survival to pursue other interests, including the development of the
intellect, we must see the very important and original evolutionary place of
culture in human development, and we must recognize the importance of culture
as an externalized facet of human organismic adaptation, one which entails
concommittant internalization of "arbitrary" or constructed or
conventional elements, the tight connection of culture with primary
acquisition. If the original cultural connections are not made in the early
years of life, all subsequent development will be retarded.
This aspect also accounts for the tight linkages to culture
and personality, and to the intransigence of culture in the formation of
individual character. It constitutes the basis for claims of a deep-seated
cultural relativity.
In this regard, language, systems of symbolization, as well
as technology and systems of social organization, must be seen to play a
central cybernetic role since the earliest transformations of humankind.
Neurological evidence and case histories of severe
childhood deprivation support the hypothesis of critical stages of brain
development during which new capacities of mind become inaugurated. If missed,
permanent retardation of brain development will be the long-term consequence.
The delayed development of the brain among higher mammals,
and especially marked for humankind, can be seen as a critical period of
cultural nurturance during which the relative presence or absence, deprivation
and enrichment of an effective cultural life-world, will have a critical
influence on the subsequent characteriological development of the individual.
We must speculate whether the ontogeny of
characteriological development, such as the timing of learning to walk, the
acquisition of speech, or learning the principles of classification and
conservation, may in certain fundamental aspects reflect the general order of
the phylogenetic sequence of human cultural acquisition--the rate and timing
of the process being pushed further and further forward in both the life-cycle
of the individual human being as well as in the sequence of evolutionary
emergence of new capacities and characteristics.
It is crucial in this regard to view culture as integrally,
historically holistic and organic. It is a living process that has its own
unique sense of history and of rootedness within a particular
home-environment. It is important to realize that it is not enough to
analytically dissect the socio-cultural world in order to discover its
functional order. It must be observed naturalistically in its cultural
environment.
Cultures as social and historical realities are not without
contradictions or loose ends, but for the most part they present themselves to
the newborn as full-blown, fully coherent systems--they are effectively
complete and total, and "subjectively inevitable" in their influence
upon human development and environmental adjustment. It is by virtue of their
completeness that they must be studied as if complex and holistically
integrated systems.
They constitute the basis for the channeling,
externalization and displacement of internalized controls and
"needs" or "drives" which become posited in external
forms. By virtue of this innate cultural dependency, humankind in its
development has been always incomplete in a sense that most animals can be
considered genetically finished. This unfinished state of the human condition
entail that without culture, humankind would not be merely animals, but as
"monsters" without even the kinds of coordinated instinctual
patternings which animals possess. We therefore cannot conceive of humankind
without culture.
Emphasis early in life upon some styles and genres of
cultural components, including expressive and affective modes, aesthetic
sensibilities, casual normative and social evaluations, symbolizations and
ordering of behavior must be seen to confer upon cultural processes a sense of
historical conservatism and resistance to change, and a lasting intransigence
to superficial, subsequent modifications.
We must refer to basic cultural factors which underlie and
give rise to subsequent complex, anti-chaotic cultural patterns constrained
and reinforced by the sanction of custom, the force of habit and acquired
traits, and the easy preference for the conventional.
*****
It remains the principle purpose of the anthropologist to
elucidate this cultural process and the part it plays in human adaptation and
integration.
Culture has been the special provenience of the field of
anthropology. With the rapid disappearance of cultural differences on earth, a
disappearance that parallels in some respects the loss of species and genetic
variability, the varieties of cultural forms have been rapidly diminishing.
Anthropology has not only been losing the principle object of its
investigation, but with it, the loss of its own identity and raison d'etre as
a science.
With the disappearance of culture from earth, we are facing
an anthropological disaster in the rapid reduction of the variability of
cultural patternings-the historical evolution of which probably required at
least a few million years.
It is upon the anthropologists shoulders to carve out a new
science of culture, one which has no other reference than its own object of
study, and yet one which is by definition cross-disciplinary in its resources.
The science of human culture has not yet been written. It must borrow from
biology, genetics, neuroscience, as well as from systems science, artificial
intelligence, and from history, philosophy, economics, psychology, etc.
And yet it must remain to the anthropologist to define for
the world the critical place which culture plays in the human scheme of
things.
Anthropology must seriously take up once again the question
of cultural acquisition, and the role which cultural process has played in
human development. If culture plays a crucial role in human acquisition, then
we must discern which of those aspects and elements are more basic, which are
derivative, and which are primary and which secondary in importance.
This brings back into view the problematics of cultural
focus of elaboration, and the continuum or arc of cultural variability.
Such a study comprises a renewed foundation for comparative
research--the broad-based search for similar cultural correlates that together
comprise basic cultural categories, categories which are empirically,
statistically derived. Cultures vary widely in the kinds of cultural
institutions and in the way in which these institutions are constituted and
reconstituted within the cultural configuration.
It is up to the anthropologist to recover ground that has
been lost in the wake of the advances of other human sciences and studies.
Anthropology cannot continue to contribute critically to
the discourse of the human condition if it remains too attached to archaic
intellectual attitudes and canalized by a narrow academic tradition of
scholarship. On the other hand, Anthropology could make crucial contributions
to this dialogue in terms of its holistic and cultural orientation, as well as
in terms of being able to cross the traditional academic boundaries and to
assimilate into a coherent order different, often contradictory traditions of
knowledge. If anthropology cannot carve out for itself a niche in a modern
state of knowledge, a niche that is regarded as vital and necessary, then
anthropology must face the consequences of becoming increasingly narrowly
defined as specialists in the esoteric nature of things.
*****
Anthropological process refers to the psycho-cultural
dynamics that underly change and development in human historical patterning.
It describes humankind making itself in the anthropological construction of
human reality. But anthropological process also refers to the primary
acquisition of the young child in its human world. It refers to the process of
becoming human in the world, and to the process of humankind making itself in
the world--the process of the human construction of reality.
It should go without saying that anthropological process is
never complete, that it remains unfinished business well into an elder's
senescence. Being an unfinished part of human reality, it also has the virtue
of being always open and subject to change and modification in a way that is
not available to species more instinctively "set" in their ways.
When we seek a finished definition of what is human
reality, or human "nature", we fail to realize that such a
definition can never be unequivocally determined, but must itself remain open
and subject to modification.
There is a virtue in the openness of anthropological
process, for it affords humankind the possibility for becoming something
other, something different, and perhaps even, something better than what it
was before. At the same time that such openness threatens the human condition
with the vertigo of moral relativity, it offers the paradox of a ground for
the justification of the enlightenment and emancipation of humankind from the
violence and bondage that has been its predicament in the past. The ideal of
progress and moral improvement finds its metaethical justification in the fact
of this possibility for becoming afforded by the openness of anthropological
process.
At the same time, there is also the dilemma that the
possibility for greater evil is also realized at the same time as the
possibility for improvement. Becoming then is always a double-edged sword,
fraught with as many problems as solutions, threatening as much bondage as it
promises emancipation.
The paradox of anthropological process is that humankind
has a choice to become what it can make itself, and yet has no choice but to
become what it makes itself--choose or not it is the predicament of the human
condition to become something other than what it is.
Anthropological process lies at the root of the human
condition and explicating anthropological process shall shed light upon the
foundations of the human condition. back
12
ETHNO-CULTURES
Emerging Anthropological Categories
Rich and poor alike, we are all cultural refugees of modern
development.
The process, prospect and presence of global
stratification has brought with it the emergence of a new sense of social
solidarity and new anthropological categories and models of identity and
difference.
It is appropriate to refer to "ethno-cultures" in
a similar sense that Immanuel Wallerstein refered to "ethno-nations"
which are defined primarily by their interrelationship and positionality
within a Capitalist World System. Ethno-cultural identity, process, praxis and
boundary must be seen as defined primarily by its relative social-structural
interpositionality within a regional-interregional framework, in relation to
other ethnocultural categories and groupings.
The social and structural relations that serve to demarcate
these emergent categories and groupings can be principally defined by a
multi-factorial model of religious affiliation, political-economic role, and
social, symbolic-ideological reference within the System.
These categories share some characteristics of previous
social anthropological categories--class, caste, corporate organization,
party, ethnic grouping--but in their unique recombination of these different
facets they tend to be historically unique and unprecedented, and also they
tend to be crosscutting most of the other categories. In one sense, they
resemble castes by virtue of broadly defined roles in specialized economic
sectors, by certain endogamous or hypergamous marriage patterns among some
groups to the exclusion of others, and by relatively closed vertical mobility.
In another respect, they are more like class institutions defined by their
relative dominance and command (or lack) of the critical moment of the
marketplace in the uneven acquisition and distribution of status wealth and
material and social resources, in the availability or desparateness of screens
of social opportunity and support, and in their defined sociality as
dependent, dominant, desocialized or prosocial. Within ethnocultural
categories there is a certain degree of class hierarchy and mobility defined
by the relative degree of openness of the grouping. They resemble ethnic
groups as ethnization and ethnic identity tend to be principal modes of social
mobilization and organization within ethnocultural groupings. This kind of
ethnic stratifications vears off into a form of "rainbow racism."
(Koreans are good businessmen, Vietnamese women have tricky, nimble fingers,
poor Blacks are indolent, poor Whites are trash") One's nominal
identification within one ethno-racial type or another becomes broadly
determinative of one's status positionality.
In such a context "Social racism" also becomes an
exclusive prerogatie of the "Beautiful"--it will not matter what
color the multicultural anti-drug squad is, as long as they are all young,
talented, handsome and athletic. In this regard Americans are not the only
global consumers suffering the burden of high-speed trauma, over-dieting,
overweight and cosmetic surgery.
In regard to axis of stratification, it is useful to regard
such ethnocultural differentiation as being based upon a form of
"diagonal stratification." It lacks the verticality of a strongly
class stratified system, and the horizontalness of a caste-stratified system.
Diagonal stratification is characterized by the competitive coexistence of
multiple, skewed, overlapping hierarchies. Individuals within a broader social
order may come to occupy a place in several different hierarchies
simultaneously. It is no longer useful to make distinctions between Jews and
Catholics, or between Blacks, Browns or Whites. It becomes more important to
determine whether we are refering to an Orthodox Jew or a Jewish American,
whether we are talking about a professional Black from Diamond Bar or a poor
black teenager in Compton, or White Italian Americans or Anglo-Americans from
upper-middle class suburbia of New Jersey or their West-Coast counterparts in
Anaheim Hills or Irvine. These kinds of fine-tuned distinctions of
contemporary, domestic American Society, can be extended to practically any
continent in the world today. The San bushpeople now are defined in their
present ethnocultural identity not so much by their distinctive, and
anthropologically romantized past, as they have become encapsulated by a
dominant African society. An educated, westernized Malay from K.L. is not the
same kind of social creature as his/her bumiputra cousin from an ulu kampong
in the hinterland provinces. An educated Japanese businessman from Tokyo is a
different kind of person than an Okinawan sugarcane grower.
This points upon a peculiar characteristic of ethnocultural
groupings--from an outsider's point of view, the internal differences and
sub-ethnic distinctions are invisible. To a large extent one's relevant social
identity is situationally and contextually defined. If one were a U.S.
serviceperson in the gulf, relationship to Saudi's or Iraqi's would be
measured principally by their shared "Americanness" rather than by
their being black, hispanic, southern white or male and female. These are
distinctions that may yet continue to make a critical difference in regard to
within-group social relations, chances for promotion, etc.
What is important to recognize from an anthropological
perspective is not only the cross-cutting nature of these distinctions and
their emerging preemience in the contemporary world scene, but that an
individual's existential predicament, life-chances, perspective, and
life-trajectory will be to a significant degree predetermined by their local,
specific ethno-cultural identity. Chances are good that an abandoned child in
the streets of Rio de Janeiro will become a victim of the Brazilian death
squad if that child cannot find an adoptive American parent, but are virtually
nil that s/he will make it to Harvard. On the otherhand, a third Generation
son of Havardians stand prettty good chances of graduating with honors from
Harvard, but will most likely not be assisinated in the backstreets of Rio.
These examples are not exceptional by their extremeness--compare the likely
life-trajectory of an average poor black kid in South Central L.A. or a
Chicano in neighboring Southeast L.A. with that of an average son of a Korean
or Vietnamese Businesss man in the same areas.
There are some noteworthy properties emergent from the rise
to predominance of ethno-cultural identity. One's local ethnocultural context
will present coherent models and categories and cognitive cultural landscapes
for interpreting the world which will likely take precedence over other,
alternative schemas which may be broader-based or more strategic. More often
than not the high visibility and marked character of these local identities
will be overwhelming for the average person caught upon in the daily
predicament of social adjustment and survival. They will be seen to have more
immediate relevance and will present a stronger force of social solidarity
than other agencies of order. Under such circumstances, the voices and points
of view of one's compatriots who share the same ethnocultural identity will be
heard before the distant, often anonymous voices of social workers or
representatives of a big, impersonal system.
One does not need to look to the dramatic historical events
in the former Soviet Union or Eastern Europe to see the importance of the
emergence of new ethnocultural categories and identities. One can see a
parallel and similar phenomenon here in the U.S. in gang activity of inner
cities which spill out into many suburbs and commercial districts. But again,
we can interpret the activities and political maneuvering of an Orange Country
republican, of a university administrator, or of a presidential appointee of
the Bush administration as being guided by a similar set of ethnoculturally
defined interests and models. From this standpoint, American government may
not be generally regarded as inefficient and disfunctional because of an
over-weaning bureaucacy or a top-heavy administration, but because the
predominant motivations and incentives which lead critical actors to make
choices may have become redefined within an international order of
ethno-cultural stratification. In such a context, the only genuinely spurious
fool is the ultra American Hero--a young reservist veteran of the Gulf
War--who believes naively in doing duty to his country. But even then, the
socio-cultural relativity implied by the notion of ethnocultural
stratification assures us that even this actor has a deeper sense of history
and may most likely simply following the tune to a different drummer.
Several interesting aspects emerge from this consideration
of ethnocultural stratification. Competition and cooperation may be defined by
a differential, variably defined range of group reference. At one level, one
may be an hispanic employer cooperating with all who may however vaguely fall
under the umbrella of "hispanicity" in competition with any and
every Gringo. Upon another level, one may be competing for economic survival
against other hispanic businessmen, and on yet another level one may in fact
not be so much symbiotically cooperating with one's ethnocultural
subordinates, as taking advantage of their ethnocultural predicatment or even
grossly exploiting them. Of course, when and if it comes to government sugar,
it may behoove the same person to emphasize one's American citizenship or
residency before one's hispanicity. And if your Gringoized daughter ends up
marrying a southern white Texan from a poor white trash background, one may
feel obliged either to disown the daughter or make one's new son-in-law a
manager in one's business--a choice in some measure determined by which
alternative will be the least expensive.
The important point to emphasize is that however it is
defined, ethnocultural solidarity becomes fundamentally framed within a
competitive/cooperative framework. In such a nomothetically defined social
context, history is likely to be contrived and convenient, and prejudicial
attitudes and authoritarianisms based upon group-reference, comparison,
structural interpositionality, and perceived competition for the same
resources.
Another dimension of this ethnocultural emergence is that
in one sense it comes from a human response to the near total alienation and
depersonalization of the global system. It fills in important socio-cultural
gaps in the human condition that the imperative to develop or perish has
created. The other side of the coin of this facet of ethnocultural solidarity
is that it is greatly manipulated and maintained through the mass media. It is
a modern village mentality of a global, electronic village stimulated by daily
doses of eletronic drugs. Three blacks who pull a white truck driver out of
his cab to beat him with bricks and kicks to the head are not doing it because
they hate or even know that individual, but because they hate the
ethnocultural category that the person symbolically represents. It may have
been any white in the same context. Fifteen white police officers standing
around and beating on a single black with their batons are not beating on a
person, but on an impersonal object of their ethnocultural scorn and derision,
an ambassador of intolerable difference. The mass media has proven to be an
effective agent in mobilizing or immobilizing the mass mentality of the
individual. Leaders of ethnocultural groupings have come to increasingly
realize and deliberately exploit this potential of the mass media--Hitler was
one of the first and most effective in this regard. Reagan as an actor was
also a convincing leader. The media can be used to cultivate a sense of
urgency or immediacy of a distant reality far out-of-proportion to the
relevancies of one's daily life.
Yet another dimension of ethnocultural stratification has
been that people who occupy similar or parallel positions in one society or
area may actually have more which is in common in terms of values, outlooks,
life-chances and adaptations, with their counterparts in other, foreign
societies, than with their neighbors in the next neighborhood, on the next
street, or even in the house next door. Within such a world, the most
tactically desirable place to be is well situated within a broad and extensive
ethno-cultural network, and the worst place to be is without any network or
sense of ethnocultural identity at all. It does little good if one's only true
brothers under the skin live clear across town or on the other end of a vast,
annonymous city. On the other hand, with the worldwide availability of fax
machines, crystal clear telephones and computer party lines, one does not have
to live next door to keep in constant touch with one's closest allie. We can
expect far-fetched, "multiplex", sophisticated lateral networks of
ethnocultural groupings to continue to coalesce and emerge from supercity to
supercity, university to university, to the point at which one may share more
in common with one's computer processor-pal than with one's neighbors,
compeers at work, department colleagues, or even other memberss of one's
family.
Family patterns and values must also be expected to become
altered within an emergent ethnocultural framework. It would be virtually
impossible to maintain a healthy, reproductive sex life with one's partner via
a fax machine or modem. On the other hand one can give birth to virtual
strangers and be a natural sibling to one's worst competitor. Family will
become ad-hoc and modularly customized social unit to fit the temporary needs
and concerns of the immediate arrangement. Lifetime monogamy and true love may
increasingly become the anachronisms of a bygone, romantic era, an exception
to the rule of single parent families and latch-key kids.
This promises that ethno-cultural groupings will be largely
ephemeral phenomena, coming and going about as rapidly as fads or publishers
of modern poetry. The factors that would guarantee the long-term stability and
survival of an oxymoronic "natural culture" would not be present to
ensure the long-term, corporate continuation of ethnocultures. Ethnocultural
'miscegenation,' rediffusion, transculturation, and intermigration between
groupings would spell the rapid rise and demise of such units.
We might also expect the rise of a increasing number of
"ethnocultural inbetweenies"--children of the ethnocultural
interstices who, like homeless refugees of the world, have no coherent
cultural orientation to give thems a sense of balance. These individuals would
not fit strictly any particular ethnocultural category-and instead would
become the hapless citizens and heirs of a global seventh-World- a new
"Third Culture" defined by its lack of attachment to any particular
cultural orientation. Initially, they would be defined by their nondescript
social annonymity and chameleoness. No one factor or even group of factors
would be critical to the determination of their identity. They may coalesce to
form their own siblinghood of mutual codependency, or they may be cast to sea
by host societies that demand some specifiable, certifiable kind of passport
for entry. And yet we may find among these unique "grey" people, a
unique identity of ethnocultural diversity.
Certain persistent, broad dimensions may be expected to
emerge from the process of ethnocultural stratification. Particular groupings
may become rapidly supplanted by others, but all may come to fill in a
continuing, long term fold in the manifold social topography of the world
system. The corporate persistence of this broad social categories and
ethnocultural models of identity may be likened to what Oscar Lewis refered to
as a self-sustaining "culture of poverty." Ethnocultures may come
and go with the changing winds of time, but Ethnoculture and Ethnocultural
differences are likely to remain for some time.
In a world characterized by ethnocultural stratification, a
common experience of social contact and relation may be one of "culture
shock" and the emergence of an increasingly chaotic "multi-cultural
continuum". The relations between workers and managers in a factory may
be made problematic by the chronic condition of ethnocultural differences. One
may be forced to work and interact daily among a whole company of people who
are essential foreign from one's own ethnocultural orientation--such
interaction may either lead to greater tolerance and understanding of such
difference, or else to aggravation of competitive tension and conflict. But
never will the sense of identity or solidarity be complete in such a context.
In such a context, new "inbetween" groups who
serve as mediators in potentially violent relations can be expected to emerge,
groups who may be used as scapegoats.
It is an urgent challenge to contemporary anthropology to
define and explicate the lineaments of this new, emergent kind of
ethnocultural process. Within a global context of world development, Culture
has acquired new parameters of significance and new models and categories of
value and relevance. It can be expected that with growing human overpopulation
on one hand, and increasing global environmental circumscription on the other,
the increasing inequalities and disparities in resource acquisition and
consumption will lead to greater tensions and conflicts. An emerging state of
worldwide social "supercriticality" can be expected within the next
generation. The precipitating "episodes" can be expected to have a
strong "ethnocultural" connection. Structural inequalities and a
status quo based on a hierarchy of resource control will demand an
increasingly heavy hand in order to ensure stability, and will witness and
increasing frequency of "ethnocultural" movements--extemporaneous
revolutions of rising expectations and demands for equality. World peace based
upon democratic principles of human rights, equality and common prosperity may
prove to be anthropologically elusive and unrealistic in a world based upon
the emphasis of ethnocultural differences.
In such a world, one is very likely to be raised in one or
a mixture of several ethnocultural orientations only to find oneself spending
the rest of one's life or rearing one's children in a completely different
ethnocultural framework, only to feel a chronic sense of personal emptiness,
anomie, confustion, disorientation or a sense of vital loss without knowing
what it is or why it is so.
It remains up to anthropology to resolve the question of
what kind of world it really is that we have created for ourselves. back
13
RELATIVITY, RELATIVISM, WORLDVIEW, MIND, BRAIN, CULTURE, the
Structure of Complexity
And Other Dangerous Anthropological Questions
The universe may well play dice with God.
There are identifiable more than twenty broadly generic and different
classes and kinds of relativism or relativities, each subsumingmultiple
problems or distinct instances that may represent spurious, pseudo- or lese
basic issues of relativistic understanding. A quick list of the categories
include: scientific, historical, social, cultural, linguistic, dialogical,
hermeneutic, textual, exegetical, literary, symbolic, religious, rational,
psychological, cognitive, experiential, epeistemological, philosophical,
nonwestern, aesthetic, normative and, finally, miscellaneous. Each category
may subsume several different problem areas that may only be relatable on the
basis of being subsumed beneath a broad generic heading. For instance, the
category of scienfitific relativism includes diverse issues of physical
reltivity, biological relativity, anthropological relativity, as well as
issues in methodology, theory, philosophy, history and science as social
praxis, and also including problematics of the relativity of spatial
perception and temporal measurement.
From the consideration of so many different kinds of relativism and
relativity, we are left to query a few main points. First, a rationalistic
orientation by philosophers, scientists and other people interested in
thequestion of relativism has largely precluded a more thorough examination of
the issues involved, and has led to the conflation of relativism with an
extreme version of determinism and thus to its dismissal as a tractable issue,
when in fct there is nothing intrinisically inimical between a relativistic
and rationalistic orientation, and though relativism and determinism are
actually separate and even contraposed issues. As Melville Herskovits so aptly
noted, and as Elvin Hatch so blithely ignored, relativism brings into doubt
the possibility not of general or even universal knowledge, but only of
absolute meaning.
Secondly, the on-going debate by anthropologists and others over whether or
not there is such a thing as relativity is largely a misplaced concern, one
that has resulted in the general obfuscation and neglect of more critical
questions. The central question is not whether there is in fact such a thing
as relativity or relativism, but exactly how relativity work and what are its
relativistic implications for our understanding of reality. The rejection of
relativism from its outright denial by rationalistc Western-oriented
philosophers steeped in their canons of Platonic idealism and Aristotelian
logic, to severe criticism and resistance by pro-positivistic social
scientists, has been so strong, that we must inquire, like Clifford Geertz,
into the social and psychological reasons for such a reaction.
Thirdly, because so many different kinds of relativism appear to coexist in
the same general sphere of understanding, the question must be posed as to
whether these different forms share anything in common, and whether this
constitutes a sufficient basis for claiming such a thing as a single form of
general relativism, or whether we can speak of "Relativism" per se,
without actually meaning many different kinds of relativism implicitly. There
seems to be some basic features shared by many forms of relativism. These are
concerns with relationality, contextuality of knowledge, conditionality and
interdependency, the horizons of knowledge and limits of understanding,
paradox and dilemma, the polythesis and multidimensionality of meaning,
emphasis upon difference and the unique, the particular, concerns with the
intentionality, metalogicality and reflexivity of human knowlege, holism,
change, and the problematic of universality and infinity. Relativism entails
the critical indeterminancy and fundamentally "statistical"
probability of knowledge, and a basic problematic of theoretical
"complexity" that has not yet been addressed.
The claim that something in the world is relative is by itself
insufficient, but we must go on to specify precisely what it is that such a
thing is relative to, and how, and it is in this demand for specification of
our relativistic understanding. This inherent conditionality of our
understanding constitutes both the principal virtue and primary problematic of
relativistic understanding. There is no such thing as knowledge that is
unconditional and, hence, nonrelativistic. The basic paradox of relativistic
understanding is that though there is no such thing as "absolute"
knowledge int he world, even relativity is not absolutely so, such that the
possibility of absolute knowledge, however remote, cannot be rejected by a
relativistic orientation. From a rationalistic standpoint this kind of dilemma
would make relativism seem inherently contradictory, hence unreasonable, and
yet is is from just such a relativistic orientation that the possibility and
tolerance for such paradox and contradiction emerges.
A general doctrine of relativism poses the problematic of an inherent
constraint and insuperable conditionality about human knowledge in the world.
Beyond the boundaries of our fields of inquiry and domains of knowledge lies
the encircling horizon of our own ignorance and a vast, potentially boundless,
domain of the "Unknown." Relativism then becomes a way of
approaching and expanding the boundaries of our own knowledge by means of
identifying and critically questioning what remains only
"half-known" upon the margins of our worldview. From the standpoint
of a non-dogmatic scientific approach that is primarily concerned with
expansion and verification of our understanding and knowledge in the world,
such a relativistic attitude is prerequisite orientation.
Issues of relativity, relativism and relativistic understanding address
more basic issues about the nature and structure of a reality that remains
inescapably human from our observer's and subject's standpoint,
providing as well critical insight into how our understanding of reality may be
intrinsically organized. Thus such questions are critical to an
"anthropology of knowledge" that asks how humankind has constructed
its own realities.
*****
Consideration of the possibilities of a general relativism must eventually
resolve the so-called "Worldview Problem"--the attempt to explain
systematically the interconnections between cognition, language and culture,
as well as the traditional "Mind/body" dichotomy that has been so
basic a question to Western philosophy and psychology.
Science has demonstrated basic differences in brain function between males
and females as well as with mentally ill versus "normal" subjects,
and yet we must simultaneously account for a central held tenet of the psychic
(and linguistic) if not cultural unity of humankind. We have posited and
generally accept the existence deep or basic structures of the brain that
underlie and predetermine our behavior and that are similar to all normal human
beings, and yet we still have to account for the role that linguistic
variation plays in structuring human consciousness, and that primary cultural
acquisition must play in the relativity permanent early formation of basic
character and personality traits, in both individual and cultural differences.
Evidence from the few extant cases of severe childhood cultural deprivation
strongly support the hypothesis of early critical stages of cognitive brain
development in language structure and basic behaviors, that is critically
linked to cultural acquisition, and which if deprived from an "effective
environment," results in the irreversible retardation of the individual.
The problematics of disentangling the roles of language, culture and
cognition in how we see the world, and of the relationship between the mind
and the brain, leads to the conjecture that the different elements are
themselves inseparably fused into basic constituent components, that are not
only encoded in the structure of mind, but are "imprinted" in the
functional patterning and cerebral organization of the brain.
To suggest that these components might be "symbolon" disguises
the possibility that symbolism is the principal mode of expression of these
elements, and that this external symbolic expression is itself a vital and
necessary constituent part of these components. It is via this externalized
modality of psychic expression that a doorway, or "window" is
provided onto the world, and that by this doorway change is introduced into
the internal world of the mind's eye. Such internalized modification always
takes the form of the fusion of new elements with previous ones, and a
"reinterpretation" of the whole that introduces a sense of order and
coherence to the internalized vision of the world.
The mind's eye can be said to internally map the external world upon the
brain. The brain becomes the biological substratum upon which is imprinted the
mind, and by extension, the externalized elements of culture. This imprinting
can be said to occur both upon the levels of primary and secondary process.
While the brain is universal, human mind is relative to the cultural and
linguistic context in which it finds its expression.
The mind from this standpoint cannot exist in isolation. It exists only
within the cultural context of its own construction and externalization. It is
the synergistic sum of the functioning of the brain within its cultural
environment. The brain, without such an effective environment, cannot realize
its fullest capacity of development.
From this standpoint we cannot clearly separate things or causes or
relations that are cultural, linguistic or cognitive. Culture, language or
cognition cannot exist decontextualized and independent of one another, and as
symbolic forms of expression they are simultaneously and inextricably composed
of all three elements, though replacement of elements by new, alien elements
occurs in the reconstruction of basic symbolic forms. Thus such forms are
continuously modified and reshaped to fit the changing cultural conditions of
the external world in which they are adapted. The adaptive significance of this
process in anthropogenesis hardly needs further elaboration.
It is possible, though, that symbols and their elements form distinctive
complexes in certain areas of the mind-brain, and these complexes may in turn
come to compose entire, nonexclusive and yet distinguishable domains. In this
regard, it is suggestive to consider the reflexive role that relativism may
play in our ability to apperceptively recognize and distinguish some of the
boundaries between such areas of mind--primarily because the relativity of
understanding become the most clearly apparent along the margins of such
domains. It is upon the receding horizons of such regions of mind that the
certainty and unquestionable firmness of our knowledge gives way to unknown
possibilities. Relativistic recognition becomes then the awareness of the
limitations of our realities.
*****
Relativity of values, beliefs, language and worldview seems to contradict
the idea of a "psychic unity of humankind" or of a universal
structure of mind that is similar for all people. The hypothesis of a
"deep structure" for language, mind and cognitive process has always
presented an important and insuperable paradox. Intuitively there must be some
biological basis to language, thought, and conceptualization 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 in symbolic expression of "worldview" or
of human attitudes and behavioral response patterns. A firm faith in the
notion might allow us to take a leap of faith and to dismiss outof 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, and of how precisely it is biologically grounded, as well as the
related questions of how much the surface variation of patterning constrains
and is in turn constrained by this hypothetical "deep" structure.
Though no one is likely to soon have any definite or detailed answer to this
important question 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 quite productive.
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 worldview 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
undergoan infinite variety of shapes and yet retain the same basic structural
features. These would be regionally defined topographies of mindscape that are
quite unique and different from one another and yet may be mutually traversed
and transfigured in terms of a basic universal rational structure of
"Mind" in a hypothetical or ideal sense of possibility or
potentiality.
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
and in some ineffable sense, the emotions and feeling itself as
phenomenological experience. It is important to distinguish what may be quite
normative and evaluativeprocesses of reasoning from more mathematically
non-arbitrary processes of logicality and mechanical process of computation
and counting. We must sooner or later come to terms with symbolization,
pattern recognition, naming, reference and inference, language, collective
representation, emotionand that always vague but ever powerful monstrosity of
the human unconscious. Somehow e 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 een extra-sensory perception or 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 person's 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, heritibility, experience, intelligence
and basic ability, special talent, individuality, identity, personality,
psycho-somatic connection between the body and the mind, and yet such humility
makes seem all the more absurd so many premature proclamations for the
bottomline on human consciousness. Simple solutions or sophicated
confabulations of enormously complex problems betray our human intellectual
hubris.
The general problem is not uncomplicated by basic theoretical and
philosophical problems that are definitional and terminological. We might
distinguish between rationalist and epiricist approaches, between a priori and
noumenal presuppositions of rational ideals and solipsistic conceptions about
trees falling in silent forests. We may distinguish between presentationalist
and representationalist conceptions.
*****
It becomes entirely plausible that when we speak of such things as mind,
culture, brain and worldview, we are dealing with a level and
"structure" of order the principles and patterning of which we do
not yet understand in any formal sense, though all of us are everyday experts
in all these areas in an implicit and functional manner. They imply a level of
chaotic complexity of patterning that suggests an underlying sense of order
and unity. Lacking a clear theoretical framework required to deal efficiently
with such levels or order, we are compelled to fall back upon theoretical
designs that are inherently inadequate to the job. This level of order is
described by scientists as "complex adaptive systems" and is seen to
recurrently underlie many naturally occurring patterns of order. They
transcend by orders of magnitude nonlinear, chaotic systems that "are
ones in which the shape of the whole is not easily predicted by looking at its
parts." (Scientific American, October, 1992) that are nevertheless
multiply underdetermined by a handful of basic "attractors" or
"choices of behavior" and an unlimited number of variables. This
level of order is referred to as "complexity" that is made up of an
infinite number of possible variations derived from a limited set of
relationships. They constitute open productive systems upon one level while
remaining restrictively constrained upon another level. "Defining
complexity more tightly becomes a problem in its own right..." (pg. 20)
It might be said that because complexity is infinitely determined, its
determinative factors cancel each other out as they approach infinity and thus
are essentially underdetermined systems that nevertheless exhibit a coherent
pattern and sense of historical unfolding. Such systems go beyond being merely
"self-organizing systems approaching criticality" because they are
continuously adapting, rather than being nonadaptive reactions to critical
events and thresholds. They are composed of agents that, though simple, gather
information from the environment around them, "sifting out relevant
details from random noise. The agents then compress that information into
models or schemata that they use to anticipate and react to changes in their
environment. Over time, they modify those schemata to reflect new
information." (page 20)
Might we speculate upon the possible characteristics of complexity and its
implications for our understanding of relativism, worldview, mind, brain and
culture. Gregory Bateson, in his work Mind and Nature (1979), defines
stochastic as "a sequence of events which combines a random component
with a selective process so that ony certain outcomes of the random are
allowed to endure." (pg. 253) He outlines a theory of the necessary
stochastic unity and complementarity of the system of mind and nature, and
distinguishes a dialectic relationship between form and process, such that
"as form is to process, so is tautology to description." (pg. 210)
It is not too much to suggest that complexity is constituted by emergent
self-sustaining, cybernetic systems that adjust to, incorporate, and seek to
overcome constraints encountered in a randomly changing environment. Because
such systems are cybernetic, they can be described as complexly dialectical.
Many mutually conditioning elements that constrain one another and jointly
undergo change. Richard Shweder applies such a conception of complexity to his
study of "cultural psychology" that deals with the interpenetration
of identitites of "subject-dependent objects (intentional worlds) and
object-dependent subjects (intentional persons)" (1991: page 100) and in
which the declared aim " is to develop an interpretive framework in which
nothing really realis by fundamental nature fixed, universal, transcendant
(deep, interior) and abstract; and in which local things can be deeply
embedded, but only for a while...."
Because such systems incorporate a "constrained randomness" into
their structure, their emergent patterning cannot be predicted in any precise
way. But it is by their very virtue of such incorporation of random change
that such systems remain adaptively self-sustaining. Such systems are seen to
be able to incorporate and thus tolerate a certain threshold of contradiction.
They do not have to be fully "coherent" systems in any traditional
sense of the term to remain viably "functional." Rather, they
comprise an "organization of difference" and an
"anti-chaotic" order upon the verge of disorder. Because they
incorporate such contradiction, they can be seen from strictly rationalistic
points of view to be inimically paradoxical and antinomial. But it is seent o
be the very flexibility of underdetermined structure that confers upon it both
an adaptive long-term stability and a fundamental sense of relativity.
Human reality is inextricably complex. It is a complexity that is
inexorably reflected in anthropological understanding. To seek too strict a
rational parsimony in our anthropological science is perhaps at best a
misguided following of the lead of the physical sicences, and at worst a
pro-positivistic dogmatism that is counterproductive and fundamentally
anti-intellectual. The presumption of relativism does not inherently preclude
the possibility of generality of theory or privilege the emphasis upon the
particular to the exclusion of the general. Relativism only demands that we
precisely define the limits and conditions of our knowledge, and through such
definition lies the resolution of the paradox that it poses for our
understanding of human reality.
Diversity of surface patternign may belie an underlying universal structure
of order, while surface similarity may be the epiphenomenon of completely
independent and different underlying structures of order. There remains
nothing inherently inimcal between a relativistic orientation and the
presupposition of a rational universality.
A systematic theory of general relativism that goes beyond mere
pronouncements of faith might provide the necessary formal handle upon our
understanding of such anthropological and naturally occurring complexity in
the world. Such an elaboration of theory can be seen in terms of a relational
logic that defines everything in terms of its possible sets of relations with
other things, with each thing having a dual identity as both an element in a
larger system of relations and as a variable set of relationships itself. A
theory of interference patterning, and an anthropological understanding of
humanmade projective systems, that in turn may lead to a systematic
anthropological theory of meaning, symbolism, mind and its relationship to the
brain, as well as to the Worldview Problem.
Relativism not only poses for us the problem of basic anthropological
paradox, but it also asks questions of us and about our world in such a way
that, if we are better anthropologically attuned, we might then search and
fine the kinds of answers we have been looking for in the first place.
14
CULTURE and CHARACTER
Our character is the measure of the culture we bear.
"Culture and character" refers to the
attempt to examine the interrelationships between the individual personality
on the one hand and the culture on the other. There have been various
formulations of such studies--some showing how the culture recapitulates the
personality, others how personality recapitulates the culture, still others
seeking a modal or basic personality configuration, while "cultural
psychology" construes a dialectic between culture and person as mutually
constraining and interpenetrating one another. It's origin in a culture
history approach has tended toward the racist ascription of stereotypes to
cultural orientations, to a faulty kind of "anything goes"
relativity of values, and to an extreme reductionism. But the problem remains
worthy of some critical regard, because of its bearing upon so many other
interesting questions.
It remains problematic from the first place because neither
of its key terms, personality or culture, are well defined in any fixed,
deterministic fashion. Lacking central definitions, we are then asked to
explain the relations between what very well may amount to being two fictive
entities. Given such critical indeterminancy of our key terms, there is a
tendency to be lulled back to the complacency of our folk conceptions, our
theories of attribution of traits to people and groups which constitutes so
much of the ground of our common sense and that so informs our world with the
appearance of truth.
It is important that we accept, for the time being, and in
lieu of anything more precise, provisional and "operational"
definitions for our key terms, and that we separate the problem which results
from a systematic attempt at the study of the relationships proposed from the
facile folk theories which otherwise usually stand in their place. While the
latter always suffers from ethnocentric bias, the former may or may not, more
or less, suffer the same bias. Indeed, one of the primary motivations for the
former mode of study is the very attempt to get beyond the veil of our own
preconceptions, to bring the fact of their otherwise transparent
"facticity" into clear view, to expose their bias and fallacy for
what they are, and to attempt to render a more correct and satisfactory
version of the world which is not the product of the same kind of fallacy and
which opens itself to empirical verification.
It seems as though the principle motivation for undertaking
such systematic inquiry is not only the attempt to dispel the ignorance of our
own preconceptions about reality and to discover the "really real,"
that it fulfills some fundamental need and curiosity in humans to seek the
"truth," but that such discovery offers us the promise of some kind
of empowerment in human reality, as well as the promise of emancipation from
power. In terms of our existential and ecological adaptation to the effective
environment of our world, it offers us the possibility for more adaptive
responses. But the problem has been perennially important to us for an even
deeper reason, primarily because to broaches directly what is at the crux of
our very sense of human reality. In other words it asks one of the most
fundamental existential questions about our subjective experience of human
reality, namely "what is it?"
First, it is evident that how we define the relationships
between culture and personality will be predetermined by how we define both
culture and personality, such that both concepts are in some way or another
mutually complementary or compatible within some general framework. We might
sidestep this issue somewhat by trying to control our primary definitions of
the key terms, assuming that they are general variables of our equation. In
this sense we might posit a kind of a standard, polythetic, and basic
"prototypical" definition for both culture and personality--assuming
that both describe central tendencies of certain domains of reality. We can
claim then that "culture is whatever it normally is for most people, and
that personality is whatever it is for most normal people." Though this
leaves out the possibility of there being in fact no prototypical examples of
culture or personality, or that several competing, even contradictory
prototypes may exists within the same continuum, and though we run the risk of
again falling back upon our own preconceived notions of what these in fact may
consist of, such a presumption may serve as a useful, even necessary,
"base-line" upon which to build and amend our model of the
interrelation.
In such a manner, if persistently applied, we carve out a
kind of "negative definition" of the problem, not by directly
describing what it in fact is or may be, but by ruling out by a process of
elimination all the things we know it is not. Thus over the long run we hope
to narrow the negative outline of the relationship to the point that we come
down to a fairly limited "paradigm" of possibilities.
The question of the overlap of the two continuums of
culture and personality is central to the notion of the anthropology of
knowledge and the so-called "anthropological construction of
reality" and it comes to focus at the critical moment in which cultural
realities reproduce themselves in the character of the individual--at the
moment, in otherwords that anthropologists call "enculturation" and
others "socialization" or "acquisition." It is a kind of
imprinting process upon the personality, and subsequent in the complementary
process in which the personality makes its mark upon the cultural world.
The relationship between the primary acquisition, and what
has become referred to as secondary acquistion, is part of a complex theory of
systematic cultural constraint, conservativism, elaboration and change known
generally as "Cultural dynamics." Individuals are made in the image
of their primary cultural orientation, and then subsequent remake their
cultural orientation in their own image, but during which the possibility for
error and variation introduces modification.
If humanness is defined by its world-openness and
unfinished state in nature, then we are faced with the paradox that this same
openness which creates the possibility for cultural construction of reality in
the first place, also assures us that such cultural acquisition and its
cultural construction must always be imperfect, partial and unfinished
business. In otherwords, no matter how thoroughgoing the indoctrination, there
is always some room leftover for other possibilities, in both culture and
character development. Several well-accepted corrollaries come from this
conclusion. While most tradition bound cultures are quite conservative, all
are subject to some modicum of change and reconstruction. Such cultures are
mostly integrated, but not completely so. Such cultural integration is usually
adaptive, or geared towards adaptation in a larger environment, but such
adapation is never a perfect fit and is always subject to alteration. The
cultural dynamics set up in the dialectic between culture and character can be
seen then as both a conservative force for stability and as an adaptive
mechanism for change. Thus the transmission of culture is the primary vehicle
of its continuance and alteration.
Because of this paradox for culture and character posed by
human openness upon the world, we must understand that the possibility, indeed
likelihood, for "discrepant" reality sets up a dynamic process of
interference and reconditioning which further complicates our study of the
culture and character.
Cultural character has a way of becoming implanted in the
individual in such a ways as to remain largely beneath the level of everyday
consciousness. In otherwords, it is defined informally and functionally in
terms of is praxis and the implicit rules and values that are derivable from
the integration of this praxis. The formal aspects of culture which are marked
and thus made more available to consciousness may very well be the aspects of
culture which would otherwise, if left unmarked, remain only weakly
conditioned and hence more susceptible to modification. Formally framing
certain features of a culture is a way of preservering these features against
the likelihood of amendment. It is the unconscious substrate of culture, those
everyday aspects of culture as performance and phenomenological process, and
their "implicit" structuration, which demands and defies
explanation. It is this underside of culture, as this has been
characteriologically implanted in the individual personality, which remains
the more problematic mystery.
We may accept several other conclusions on the basis of
this thesis. One is that no culture exists wholly independently of its primary
cultural carriers--the individual character in the group-context is to be seen
as the principle vehicle for the expression and transmission of culture.
Conversely, no personality exists outside or beyond the purview of some
cultural context within which it is normally configured and construed. Culture
and character are inter-dependent and inseparable sides of a single continuum
of anthropological process of transmission--it is an on-going process which
forms an unbroken chain from its first, remotest beginings, to the very
present. To avoid unfortunate connotations, I will refer to this basic
anthropological process arising from the dialectic between culture and
character as "culturation".
This being the case, we cannot imagine such a thing as a
culture that is entirely apart from its carriers and human agency, as somekind
of bounded or boundable phenomena, a "culture circle" or little
hermetic garden. Such boundaries, if they exist at all, exist more as
temporary, permeable, ephemeral markers of difference and distance between
peoples in place and time--they are a function of the different heritage and
history of different branches. Likewise, it is difficult to imagine an
individual human being in vacuo, totally beyond the purview of some kind of
culturative context--the few examples attest to the monstrous consequences of
such isolation.
The inherent interdependency between culture and character
assure us that any facile labels or definitions which seem to separate one
from the other are bound to be spurious and fallacious conceptions. Also, this
interdependency assures us that neither culture nor character can be studied
or sufficiently understood wholly independent of the other. Also, we are
ourselves, as agents of our own cultural backgrounds, to some extent locked
within our own sense of history, rendering the unreserved attempt to cross
cultural boundaries entirely specious, at best. We cannot simply
"suspend" culture or "control" the effects of character in
order to better analyze or study them.
Interdependency between culture and character does not
preclude the probability that to some unknown extent both culture and charater
exist in their own spheres as separate and independent from one another.
People can behave outside the conventions or sanctions of their culture, and
cultures can continue inspite such deviance. The amazing fact of the matter
seems to be that cultures continue making sense despite so much deviance, but
the final analysis remains that no individual can behave entirely without the
umbrella provided by culture, and that no culture can continue without some
human agency by which to carry it.
We can surmise that the evolution of culture--the real
culture history, has been something of a branching and braided rope or chain
resembling somewhat the purported evolutionary tree, with perhaps the main
difference having been that cultural divergence and branching has probably
proceeded at a much faster rate, eventhough within a shallower time depth,
hence yielding a much more variegated and complex picture. This picture is
probably also rendered more problematic in that the principle vehicles for
such transmission are not "genetically isolated" as members of
different species are--different peoples and cultural groupings have regularly
come into contact, with different consequences. Furthermore, the stability of
a cultural orientation is conditional to certain extraneous factors and may
not be intrinsically guaranteed--culture history, perhaps much more than
natural history, has been largely a history of happenstance and unintended
consequences. Part of the chaotic patterning of cultures is that relatively
minor causes may have major consequences, while major events may have only
mild effects.
We may assert that human character was fundamentally less
variable and thus human culture less variegated in the earlier phases of human
culture history than later. The increasing variety of cultures made possible
an increasing range of characteriological differences of personality, and the
widening range of interpersonal differences and possibility of such difference
opened the door for further cultural variation. Sophisticated cultures
permitted, even demanded, a much wider range of individual variation--and the
trend towards individual differences demanded more sophisticated, variegated
cultural contexts.
We must construe the evolutionary function and historical
role of the process of culturation as primary "antientropic" or
"antichaotic" as the extension of the human response to its own
natural condition of unfinished world openness.
We will refer to the long term patterns which result from
the process of culturation within a group as the "cultural pattern"
or its configuration, and we must acknowledge the basic stochastic complexity
of such patterns, that may nevertheless, in relation to their adaptive,
anti-chaotic function, settle into a fixed number of finite possible states.
Another conclusion that can be drawn is that there has been
a rather wide range of variation in how different cultural traditions and
orientations have developed, and that given different, and changing
circumstances, some cultural orientations may at times be better adapted than
others, some more tradition bound or settled than others, and some more
capable of incorporating change than others, and not all for the same reasons.
Cultures succeed in different ways, for better or worse, and the developments
of one cultural orientation may at any given moment of its history be
convergent, divergent or parallel with that of another. Furthermore, given the
complexity and the role of historical circumstance in culturative processes,
we must conclude that form the most part different cultural orientations, and
their carriers, are only superficially commensurable. We might derive numerous
interesting and unexpected correlations from such cross-cultural comparison,
but rarely if ever any "causal" conclusions.
These conclusions might seem to relativize the possibility
of establishing any universal or general framework for the understanding of
the relationship between culture and personality, but we must see that
whatever the form or patterning that either culture or character may take, the
fact of both culture and character, or rather of the process of
"culturation" itself is based upon a universal problematic of the
human condition, and it is upon this basis that the common, universal
substrate for both culture and character may be found.
What we find whereever we find culture, are similar basic
processes, whatever the form by which they are expressed and whatever the
circumstances by which their expression is defined. Likewise, all human beings
exhibit, differentially, similar basic processes of personality and character
development, processes to some extent organically conditioned and
predetermined. It is upon such basis that we can legitimately speak of a
science of human society or a genuine science of human psychology. Because we
recognize in humankind the common capacity for culture, we can systematically
approach the study of culture and character as if this were a
"science" beyond the purview of our folk models and our own
culture-bound common sense.
Such study merits critical scrutiny along many points of
the continuum of culturation. Where there is close conformity and alignment of
culture and character, where certain cultures appear inordinately
conservative, we can inquire into the role and nature of certain
"authoritarian character traits". On the other hand, the examination
of deviance and extreme characteriological pathology may better serve our
science in instances where such tight conjoining of the configuration of
culture and character appears broadly discrepant or contradictory. We must
also carry to our studies the sobering recognition that the study of cognitive
structures or cognition may have little bearing on the study of emotions or
the affective life of individuals, or the understanding of symbols or
collective representations may not lead us to the source of cultural values or
ethos.
We must see culturation as both a process that is both
biographically integrative in terms of an individuals lifetime, and
simultaneously as transcending or crosscutting such biographical experience,
as integrative of the diverse heterogeneous mosaic of cultural space. In the
former sense it is primarily a subjective, phenomenologically experienced,
temporally constrained and existentially problematic process of the expression
of character and its development. In the other sense it becomes
"objectivated" in externalized forms of familiar sets of values,
ideas, terms, beliefs, symbolisms, practices, etc., that occupy certain
proveniences within a larger framework we call a culture, and which may be
mutually and differentially shared by different members of a culture.
At every point, a cultural context provides is carriers
with a range of "schemata" by which its agents and construct and
reconstruct its patternings. At no point in the process of culturation does
such human agency not come into play. In highly stylized or ritualistically
constrained contexts, the amount of choice that the individual agent may have
in the expression may be quite limited or virtually nil--in less formal
circumstances greater degrees of varition may be permitted.
When we refer to such processes of culturation; as
production we must understand that culture and character requires a
satisfactory degree of integration in order to be successful, when such
integration occurs, a "meta-relation" becomes established which
confers upon the entire process its "larger-than-life" or
synergistic sense of significance. On the other hand, when such integration
between culture and character fail, as it sometimes does, then we can properly
speak discrepant and discoordinate realities, and hence of psychosocial
pathology.
It is in terms of the study of the integration of culture
and character that we can speak of "human reality" per se. In this
sense, Levi-Strauss's concept of the mythological reversal of contraposed
themes, including the metathemes of nature and culture, can be seen as nothing
more than the expression upon a symbolic plane of a process of dialectical
reversal in the integration of reality which is already apparent in more basic
and organically human ways. First, it is important in such reversals that
culture is originally artificial, therefore unnatural, distorted, and, then
that it substitutes status or place with its natural counterpart, and thus
becomes seen as natural. In such a reversal, natural elements then come to be
construed as culturally constructed, unnatural and distorted.
To the extent that a culture can be defined by its
tradition, we can expect a certain degree of differential and variable
integration between culture and character, but we must always see this
integration as historically situated and environmentally circumscribed. It
makes a little sense to speak of Vietnamese Character as in certain
fundamental ways different from American or Chinese character, but it makes
more sense to distinguish between South Vietnamese Character of the
precolonial era and North Vietnamese Character in the contemporary era, and to
see that the character of Vietnamese grandchildren living in the U.S. may have
been fundamentally altered from that of their Grandparents who spent most of
their lives in a war-torn Vietnam.
We must always see also that it is extremely difficult to
frame such study in terms that are exclusively or entirely "etic"
and "objective." Such study demands an "emic" and
primarily "subjective" orientation, because the principle mode of
expression of this relationship is subjectively experienced and expressed.
This subjectiveness makes calling this kind of study "science" in
the conventional, positivistic sense of the term very problematic. In the
experience of difference or the crossing of cultures, we are left with few
familiar landmarks by which we can stake our new science.
15
The OTHER In US
And Ourselves in Others
If we search for Identity, we are bound to encounter
difference, and if we look only for difference, we are sure to run into our
own identity.
Human reality presents itself caught inextricably
somewhere between the internal world of the psychological and the external
world of the social, between the constraints of nature and the contexts of
culture, between the projects and purposes of the future and the memories and
mistakes of the past. The inescapable anthropological predicament of our human
reality is the paradoxical liminality of this existential betweenness. In all
our complexities, we cannot ever clearly separate the inner world of the self
from the outside world of the "other." And if we attribute great
objectiveness to the latter, we also attach great subjective importance to the
former. Humankind is defined anthropologically by its
"world-openness"--its volitional freedom from the dictates of
natural instincts, and by the possibilities of its own cultural plasticity. In
otherwords, we are by anthropological definition "human-made" and
our "culture" and the possibilities of its construction are as much
an intrinsic part of our nature as our own biological nature are a part of our
cultural constructions. We are by our very unfinished nature the creatures of
cultural creation, and this has been both our blessing and our curse to the
world. Without the primary process of our enculturation, we remain but
unfinished creatures of the world--virtual monsters that bear only a
superficial resemblance to the other beasts of nature.
Because of this we are also, as a consequence, the
creatures of our own existential complexity. Put more simply, we are all
unique bundles of "things" and the relations between these things.
It goes without saying that no two people ever share exactly all the same sets
of things between themselves, but that everyone shares a few things and
relations in common with everyone else, which includes among other things the
existential facticiousness of our own humanness and subjectiveness. And it is
these common connections which normally constitute the ground of relationship
between people in the world. We normally seek and find psychosocial identity
in the world on the basis of these shared connections between ourselves and
others in the world. We might call this process one of symbolic
identification, and acknowledge that it constitutes a primary need of our
being in the world, one as necessary for our survival as the food we eat or
the air we breath, and see in this basic requirement for our survival as much
of a functional foundation for our sense of order in the world as any other
primary need. It might be referred to as our inherent and vital sociability in
the world, which, along with our need and natural capacity for culture, we
cannot neglect without dangerous consequences and which has several important
anthropological implications.
First, if put in alternative, but equivalent terms, it
gives rise to an important anthropological theory. What we call the
"Self" or the "anthropological ego" is vitally
interdependent and inseparable from what has come to be called the
"Other"--so much so that it is better to see these as two sides, the
heads and the tails, of the same coin. In other words, it is not so important
that we seek to locate the identity and provenience of the "other"
as exclusively in the external social world, but that we recognize that
symbolically the other in the external world is but a projection, and a
reflection, of the invisible "other" that is part of our internal
world of the self. This internalized other is not normally recognizable in its
externalized form because it remains invisible, transparent, and hidden from
our conscious awareness. The externalized form of the other becomes then a
mere surface apparition, a stereotype, a confected illusion, of what remains
symbolically planted within our selves. It involves an internalization of
"subjectively discrepant" realities which entails the inevitably
compartmentalization or dichotomization of "ego" between a
fore-grounded or emphasized, positively valued set of things and relations,
and a "back-grounded" or deemphasized, negatively devalued traits.
This can normally take the form of the strengths of the "ideal self"
versus the "weaknesses of the real self. Psychologically this must
involve the repression of those aspects and elements of the self that are seen
as threatening to one's ego identity in the world, and which is subconsciously
reinforced by the suppression of those social aspects and elements of the
other which symbolically represent or reflect those internal aspects. This
process of psychosocial projection is an intrinsic component of the process of
anthropological identification in the world, and can consist of either
unconscious repression or else of deliberate denial or deceit that works as a
rational defense mechanism for the maintenance of ego-identity. Either way the
consequences are the same, and include both ignorance, in the sense of
"ignoring" that which does not fit, or else of prejudicial
evaluation. Labeling, closed-minded belief and behavioral discrimination are
the usual means of reinforcing such preconceived world-views.
From the standpoint of processes of psychosocial
identification we can see that these are an intrinsic functional component of
social integration. The formation and reinforcement of anthropological
ego-identity in the world requires psycho-social "reference" and
coordinating "correspondence" between internalized "maps"
and externalized orientations. We may refer to primary reference as the direct
social sources of positively valued "otherness" in the formation of
ego-identity, and to the concomittant, secondary "counter-reference"
as the indirect sources of negatively valued ego-identity in the world. Thus
when we speak of the Anthropological other, we must distinguish between the
primary "reference other" and the secondary "counter-reference
other." This process of symbolization underlies all forms of and
expressions of in-group/out-group consciousness, and is correlated with the
functional demands and constraints of social integration and organization. The
greater the emphasis upon conformity to ideals of in-group uniformity of
identity, the greater the internalized hierarchy of relations between people
of a group, the greater the need find an externalized
"anti-thetical" form upon that to project differences, deviance, and
the potential for equality of relation. This externalized form of outgroups
often take the form of "scape-goating" or "blaming the
victim." The persecution of those who are most vulnerable to persecution
and the most helpless to resist such persecution, and, in cases where direct
confrontation may be impossible or undesirable, the persecution of an
intermediate, third party which is interposed between two potentially
conflictual groups.
As an anthropological aside, it is not unreasonable to
suggest that this very process of psychosocial identification and inter-group
symbolic boundary mediation underlies the very
"collectivizing/relativizing" and
"incorporating/nihilating" function of anthropological knowledge.
This is the anthropological "other" that the student anthropologist
confronts in the field and is expected to come to terms with ethnographically
is nothing more or less than the "disembodied" projection of the
other "self" and the repressed "other" within the
anthropological ego, one which must entail the implicit denial of the
"self of the other" as well. Part and parcel to the romance of
relativistic difference and the "making the strange familiar" is the
internalized repression of "otherness" within the self, and its
external projection, and "rediscovery" in the world. It also follows
that a reflexive anthropology seeking to come to terms with its own
imperialistic functionalism as a mode of representation in a colonially
hieratic world must at some point recognize the basic importance of
identification between self and other, and its implications for an
anthropology free of its own unconscious biases.
Another dimension of the necessary anthropological
interdependence between the "sense of self" and
"otherness" in the world is that the relations of mutuality and
interdependency can be either symmetrical, hence reciprocal and mutually
symbiotic, or else, as is more usually the case, assymmetrical, unequally
exploitative or parasitic, and more "relations of dominance and
dependency" than of mutuality. In this regard we can seek critical
relationship between the internalized discrepancy and dichotomization of the
self between "top-dog" and "repressed underdog" and the
externalized symbolic forms of superior "in-group" and inferior
"out-group." When we seek to persecute others in the world, the
"other" we are actually, symbolically persecuting is that otherness
which is hidden within the self. It follows also that when we seek to liberate
other's in the world, what we are actually, symbolically intending is the
liberation of our own otherness within ourselves.
A consequence of this tendency towards assymmetry in
psycho-social integration of reality is that we must always contend with and
resolve the contradictions posed by the facticity of our own reification in
the world. The fallacy of reification can be seen as the consequence of our
symbolic faculty in the integration of reality and of our own forgetfulness or
ignorance of our symbolizations of the world. It is the misidentification of
human constructions in the world as if a necessary and natural part of the
world, and of natural elements in the world as if humanmade constructions, and
it involves both the apotheotization or transformation of a thing, a mere
symbol, into an entity which transcends its own thingness in the world, as
well as the transformation or reduction of what is living and trancendent,
into a mere thing. From the standpoint of selfness and otherness, reification
involves turning the human being, and its implied realities, into something
either less or greater, or "other" than what it really is.
"Otherness" and the anthropological construction of the other in the
world can therefore be seen to be the inevitable consequence of the
reification of the self in the world.
The role of reification in the symbolic boundary
identification separating the anthropological self and other in the world
brings back into focus the issue and problematics of the unavoidable
"subjectiveness" of our anthropological knowledge. Martin Buber, in
his distinction between "I and Thou" (1958) notes the notes the
necessary complementarity of two ways of knowing, but also the transcendent
understanding and metarelation which comes from the appreciation and union of
identity with the subectivity of the other, the sudden realization and reading
of the separate and independent subjective self of the other as if an
"unpetrified text"--as a sense of identity that no longer regards
the other as a objective "thing," as merely an extension of one's
own ego-identity in the world. Eric Fromm reiterated this basic relation in
his distinction between the authoritarian conscience and the religious
conscience, and so too Abraham Maslow in his distinction between
"fear-motivated" and "love-motivated" ways of knowing.
Most ethnographies have failed to accomplish this feat of
establishing, via the text, a transcendent meta-relation between the
anthropological "ego" as observer and the other. Even those few
accounts addressing the subjective other only barely accomplish such
metarelation, and never without critical reservations--Kevin Dwyer's Morroccan
Dialogues, Paul Radin's Crashing Thunder, Ganath Obeyeskere's Medussa's
Hair, Vincent Crapanzano's Tuhami, Oscar Lewis' The Children of
Sanchez, Sidney Mintz Worker in the Cane, George Devereux's Reality
and Dream (1951), and none of these as fully as possible or
uncritically without a veneer of Western-styled objectification and
reification or with the sublime power of John Neihardt's poetic Black Elk
Speaks (that is also not without authorial voice and bias.) This seems to
be a form of relation that is more approachable through autobiography than
biography per se--perhaps because it involves as much a journey in
self-discovery as it does an exploration of otherness.
Several important points emerge from this consideration of
the necessary relations between self and other in the world. First, the
complexity of subjective human reality is such that the multiplicity of
factors which impinge upon any one person's life, that unique "bundle of
things and their relations" upon which we confer a name and refer to as
an individual personality, render that life fundamentally incommensurable in
any but a superficial and conditional way to any other person's life. It
follows that social measures of identity which take a nomothetic,
classificatory or statistical approach to human reality necessarily cross-cuts
and undermines the possility for the kind of biographical, historical,
idiographic and longitudinal perspective which is only capable of dealing with
human subjectivity, hence "otherness", in its own terms. In other
words, human reality cannot be conveniently or sufficiently comprehended in
spurious objective terms that label, analytically dissect, and categorize the
"things and relations" which constitute subjective identity. A
corrollary of this in understanding of the phenomena of modern evil, is its
bureacratically reinforced impersonalness which constitutes an implicit denial
of the subjective value of the other. The capitalist exploiter cannot afford
to personally know the existential plight of those whom s/he exploits. The
slave owner must necessarily deny the humanness of her/his slave. The upper
class must paternalistically regard the lower classes as if unsophisticated
and childlike in nature. The true sign of any fascist sychophant is her/his
cold dedication to an anonymous, "larger than life" order, and
denial of the subjectiveness of those whom s/he persecutes.
Secondly, we must again acknowledge the paramount
significance which the symbolic legitimation and validation of the
subjectiveness of both self and other entail for our world. The journey in
discovery of the otherness in the world is inseparable from the journey in
self-discovery, and only by discovering the other within us can we hope to
come to genuinely understand the self in others. Perhaps the most we can hope
to find in our anthropological explorations of the human field is a more
genuine sense of our own identity.
Finally, only by widening our boundaries for the tolerance
and incorporation of human differences in the world, as well as in the
possibilities within ourselves, can we hope to create a more peaceful and more
human world. Our greatest anthropological challenge is the problem posed by
our own subjectivity in the world.
*****
Identity cannot exist without a sense of difference, nor
can Difference exist without a sense of identity. We cannot recognize identity
without the recognition of difference in the world. Human identity in the
world is measured in contrast to differences. Human differences are weighed by
one's sense of human identity. Cultural variation in the world constitutes a
relational field for the dialectic of Identity and Difference; it is the role
of the dialectic of anthropology to embrace and explicate this dialectic.
The concepts of both Self and Other exist in terms of the
dialectic of Identity and Difference. The. The identity of the self could not
be defined except by contrast to the difference of the other, and, similarly,
the difference of the other could not be constituted but by the identity of
the self.
Concepts of Identity and Difference, and of Self and Other,
are relational concepts of anthropological knowledge. As relational concepts,
they are ordinal, continuous variables that lack any fixed referents, though
they constitute the ground of the field of reference and inference in human
reality. They describe the basic dialectical dimensionality characteristic of
anthropological understanding. They confer upon the relational field a
differential topography of anthropological saliency.
Identity is never complete or total, difference is never
absolute. Self and other cannot exist independently of one another. Self and
other merge as a single anthropological relation in the world, one that is
nevertheless multifaceted and variably defined.
The illusion of our knowledge and our reason are that the
world is fundamentally dichotomized--self is separate from other, identity is
the opposite of difference, and this illusion results in our failure to
realize the original undichotomized unity of the basic dialectical relation.
We rely upon this dichotomization of reality in order to disambiguate an
otherwise ambiguous experience of the world. When we speak of finding the
other within us, or of recognizing in others ourselves, and when we speak of
the Identity of difference and the difference of Identity, we are recognizing
and acknowledging this original, a priori unity of the dialectical relation,
and are attempting to reconstruct its sense of unity from behind our reason.
We find identity and security with the familiar, and
difference and fear in the strange. We tend to find in identity the collective
center which gives our life a sense of completeness, balance, focus--we find
in difference the threat of relativistic tendencies, chaos, lack of a center
of balance. And yet there can be no center without an edge, no left without a
right.
If we look for difference in others, then what we discover
is the difference within ourselves. We we seek identity in the world, we then
discover ourselves in others.
16
HUMAN BEING and BECOMING
We cannot know it so much as we are known by it.
The central question of a subjective anthropology is to
ask: "What does it mean to be a human in the world?"
"Humanness" and "Human Being" might be regarded as
synonymous in terms of "the sense of being human." And we cannot
sunder this meaning of human reality from its presence in the world--for
humanness has been autochthonous in the world, and in its most basic nature
remains inalienable from it. So however we may make over our world to fit our
own image, we can never finally make over that primordial world that remains
rooted within our own being. It underlies our sense of reality like a gigantic
slumbering dragon, unaware that we have built our civilization upon its back.
We are no longer part of the world from which we came--it became destroyed in
the process of our birth. And the world of which we are a part is no longer a
part of our innermost selves. In our all too human world, we cannot but help
suffer a fundamental sense of alienation and separation from our own being,
from our original world.
This alienation has led us to an endless search for our own
being in the world. We seek many different directions to find it and it is
never there. This need to discover ourselves in the world becomes insatiable,
driving us to ever greater heights. It has been a mythological journey of
legendary proportions, leading us to accomplish great feats and even greater
mistakes. Homo Saipiens Saipiens, for all his wisdom, has been an aberration
in the natural world. And never do we find what remains locked away within
ourselves. Our only reminder of its proximate presence in our world is the
shadow that always follows us underfoot.
Rarely do we stop to think that the being we seek in the
world is found hidden away within ourselves, and is not a being of the world
that we know, but of another world far removed from our own. Every fragment of
that other world we find upon our journey is but a partial reflection of our
own sleeping being, each time point back along the way we've come.
*****
Being human and human beingness is something all people
share. It is the universal substrate of human reality. This beingness is
marked by human sentience, that special symbolic capacity has set us apart in
the animal kingdom. From the standpoint of anthropogenesis, we can distinguish
a special complex of uniquely human characteristics which together constitute
and account for this sentient capacity--name the human brain, prolonged
post-partum dependency and delayed physiological maturation, vocal apparatus,
bipedalism and tremendous manual dexterity.
It has been this common sentience and human beingness that
has served as the justification and foundation for the doctrine of human
equality and the universal rights of humankind. It is the source of our
capacity to recognize in the suffering of others the possibility of our own
suffering, and in the emancipation of others our own liberation. It is the
source of our sense of justice by which we weigh and ajudicate the guilt and
responsibility of others and our selves for the parts we play in the world.
Because of our humanness, our sense of being human in the
world, we all share, however unwittingly, in a common anthropological
predicament that has come to be called "the human condition", as
well as in a common anthropological imperative to recover the sense of
alienation we suffer by our sentience.
*****
The adaptive significance of human "beingness" in
the world, and its relationship to human "becoming," must not be
discounted. Beingness is based upon a sense of identity between internal
frames of experience and the on-going encounter of the world. It entails the
accommodation and readjustment of our frames to fit the on-going challenges
and changes of our world. It mediates and integrates our experience of the
world with our internalized frames. Beingness, then, is the expression of this
integration and the dynamic that results from its mediation. Beingness, then,
entails an orientation, a predisposition, an attitude of adjustment and
adaptation to the world of the senses, to experience and encounter in the
world that always brings change.
Becoming in this regard can be seen as a form of
"non-being," or rather a vicarious form of "being other than
what is." The orientation of becoming is one that strives to alter the
world of experience, and to control changes in the world, in order to fit
preconceived frameworks of the mind. In this sense, as "non-being"
becoming constitutes a form of denial of the reality of the senses.
It should be apparent to the astute that part of the
contemporary anthropological predicament of humankind is that of a
civilization, from its enlightenment ideology of progress and its
anti-religious science, to its anti-death medicine, to its cosmetics and
materialism, that promotes, and cultivates in the human being an orientation
of becoming and demotes and denies to the human being a more genuine and
adaptive orientation of being in the world.
Our orientation of becoming in the world has been one that
has been rooted in our denial of death as an intrinsic part of life. Becoming
has represented our vain and desperate attempt to overcome the dilemmas posed
by our fear of death as the ultimate of marginal experiences. Thus we
obsessively, neurotically reenact the separation of death in our everyday
life, and come to build our world such that it is organized around such
separation.
The consequence of the contemporary human condition is that
the sense of alienation and separation that is intrinsic to human being is not
lessened or repaired in anyway as would be by the promotion of a sense of
being in the world, but is rather exaggerated and made greater by the
promotion of orientations of non-being and becoming. We are today further
removed from the realities of our own humanness than we have perhaps ever been
in our entire human history. Not only are we paying a heavy price for this
alienation in terms of our inconsolable and desperate soul, but the world
itself of which we have been a sui generis part has also payed for our
becoming.
The possibility of our sentience in the world has lead both
to our recognition of our own separateness in the world, or sense of
difference, and to the possibility of our nonbeing in the world, of being
different than who and what we are.
*****
We look out upon the world and we are a part of that world
and yet we are also separate from it. The side of us which remains part of the
world is our sense of being in the world, and the side which remains separate
is our sense of nonbeing. The former finds identity with difference in the
world, while the latter finds the difference of identity in the world.
It is this beingness and non-being that creates the
dilectical tension in our humanness, a struggle for control over the human
psyche and spirit. Being involves the fusion of differences in the world such
that though they exist they are transcended by common identity. Nonbeing leads
to the differentiation of anthropological ego-identity from the world, such
that an insuperable boundary is placed between the sundered self and the
sundered world.
We commonly switch between modes of being and nonbeing in
the world, depending upon circumstances. Insecurity and uncertainty can
precipitate separation and nonbeing, a kind of rational defense mechanism to
protect our anthropological ego-identity in the world. The attempt to maintain
this sense of separation leads to the erection and reinforcement of such
defense mechanisms as barriers mediating the boundary between ego and the
world. Within the bulwarks of such defenses we seek protection from separation
and death, and foster an illusionary sense of anthropological ego-identity
that is separate from the world. Invested with vital energy in their props and
supports, our ego-identity in the world becomes seen as something necessary
and unexpendable in our lives, though they remain in essence spurious to a
genuine sense of being.
Our anthropological ego-identity then becomes as a
transparent bubble surrounding our selves and distorting all light that enters
our world. Because it is transparent, it becomes invisible in our perception
of a distorted world, and we soon become oblivious to the possibility of a
different, undistorted vision of the world.
*****
The differences between being and nonbeing in the world,
and their respective promotion or demotion, become the basis for the
fundamental schism of human reality and for basic differences between people
in the world--of experience, mentality, world-views, and ways of relating to
the world.
While being seeks the identity of relationship and
difference in the world as a means of adapting to the world, nonbeing seeks to
cope with difference and change in the environment by controling it. They are
two different strategies for adaptation and survival in the world.
*******
It is possible that anthropological knowledge seeks the
human "reason for being" in the world, and this constitutes the
fundamental basis for its pursuit. "Reason for being" is not a
rational purpose, and cannot be simply explained or objectively understood.
Though we may give many reasons for our being, Reason for Being is
distinguishable from those we may bring to it. It happens to and around our
reasons, inspite of and because of our intentions. It informs our reasons with
anthropological reason. It expresses itself through us but not because of
us--we are its vehicles and its vessels, carrying it and infusing it into our
lives. Such Reason for Being informs our anthropological research, it
constitutes the basis for our anthropological discoveries. We seek to
excoriate its reason behind the veil of our many illusions.
Reason for being can be contraposed to the rationality of
becoming that confers upon human existence a sense of divine purpose. The
rationality of being covers over the dialectic of being and nonbeing in its
principle of progress and the control of change, reversing its counterpoint,
and thus, unlike Reason for Being, fails to transcend the dialectic and to
achieve a transcendent sense of metarelation above and beyond separation. The
rationality of becoming can never discover the reason for being, but instead
consists of a tacit denial of the reason for being in its embrace of the
nonbeingness of the possibility of change--the principle of progress, or
"change with a purpose." Rationality of Becoming lives in the world,
but cannot be a part of the world in the same way that Reason for Being is.
The principle of perfection arose from the substitute of
the dialectic of becoming for that of being and nonbeing. It arose from the
denial of nonbeing and hence entails a concomittant denial of being. Its
purpose is a perfect logos, a paradise of eternal time and place in which
death and dialectic of being and nonbeing are exorcised.
In our world dominated by a strict scientific rationaltiy,
simply "to be" as an uncontestable "fact" of experience is
no longer enough. Being human in the modern sense of the term has entailed
much more than simply anthropological human being. It entails that we imbibe
into our very blood and bones the principle of progress and its presumptions
of perfection and make it imperative to our social success and survival that
we will "become" something more than we "are" or else
"unbecome" something that we were before. Of course, this extreme
need to "become" something else has its own superhuman methods and
madness that makes merely becoming more anthropologically human never quite
enough.
Part III
The Anthropology of Humanity
We must acknowledge the wider roll which anthropological
understanding plays in the world, whether anthropologists accept this role as
appropriate to their identification of anthropological knowledge or not. This
role has certain constraints for the identification of anthropological
knowledge that entails a need for its elaboration as something wider than its
academic circle. back
17
TRANSCULTURATION
The Historical Process of Human Civilization
Humankind's first fire may have been extinguished, but the
fire of the imagination that it ignited has never since stopped burning
We have so far been considering primarily the cultural
process I have termed "culturation". It is now worthwhile to
consider a complementary and derivative process that I call
"transculturation"--it is the "civilizational" process, or
the process of human "civilization" and is basically culture
historical in its sense of evolutionary development. It is the process and
patterning which results from cross-cultural contact and inter-group relations
which are in a sense a special case of inter-human or interpersonal relations
which involves some sense of appreciable cultural or historical boundary or
distance.
We must disinvest this notion of human civilization from
the received, ethnocentric notion of an evolutionary framework of human
culture along which we can locate various peoples in terms of their
technological advancement, barbarism or savagery. We will not contrast the
"civilized" with the "primitive" though in an implicit
sense primitive might be construed simply and tautologically as anything that
is not "civilized."
Human civilization has been the special prerogative of no
single power or people in the world. It is the common heritage of all of
humankind, whether they possess its elements or not or even are aware of it.
Civilization is an inherent transcultural process. It can be taken as the
measure of the cultural achievement of humankind in terms of our science, our
arts, our religous and moral beliefs, our technology and even our
anthropology. In this regard the human ancestor who first played with the idea
of fire was the first scientist on the dawn of human civilization. Once the
"idea" of fire was invented, it quickly caught on in a way that
would be essentially irreversible and fundamentally transformative for human
civilization. Its spread throughout all cultures was an inevitable matter of
time, because the obvious advantages of fire far outweighed the disadvantages
of remaining without it. The idea of fire not only transformed human
civilization, but the human imagination as well. It was one of the first
elements of a growing fund of human knowledge that we can now call the
"Mind" of humankind.
Fire was a basic element of human civilization, one of the
first many such basic elements to come, from which many derivative elements
have been subsequently elaborated. We need only mention a few--the bow and
arrow, the flaked stone, the wheel, silk and sinew, metal, the arch, the
concept of zero, counting, inscription, the graphic image, money, God, the
Bomb, etc.
Once invented, we cannot simply go back to a time, either
in our daily lives or in even in our imagination, to a world before fire.
These elements of civilization serve to create the basic boundaries of our
human imagination and our reality. And though conditioned by human agency and
power, civilization as a panhuman, transcultural process remains basically
beyond the purview of any power that be to prevent its diffusion or reverse
its development. Thus the perspective of human civilization and the historical
process of transculturation basically transcends the structural horizons
placed upon knowledge by power. Civilization has been a process of augmenting
human empowerment, whether we measure this in terms of energy amassed or
expended, anti-entropic efficiency, or in terms of number of human
"bytes" stored. This empowerment, in the long term, is never the
exclusive monopoly of any single power or set of powers--though many may try
to appropriate it and make it so.
******
Part of what defines us anthropologically as human beings
is our common capacity to create and share in human civilization--our human
"genius" that is the creative mark of our special sentience and
world openness. The defining mark of any civilization at any particular point
in place or period is the frequence of "Genius" that it has
cultivated and achieved in expression. When we speak of such
"Genius" I do not mean to imply an Hegelian "Geist," but
rather am refering to what Alfred Kroeber has referred to as the particular
and historically unique style patterning of different cultural orientations
that is coordinate with a unique kind of human character. We can speak of the
Genius of the Kung bushmen to track large game and to find water in the middle
of an arid landscape, or the Genius of the Australian Aboriginie for their
sophistication in kinship organization, as much as we might refer to the
Genius of the Americans to invent televisions or reapers, or for violence, and
the Genius;of the English for their literature and Rock music, or the Genius
of Afro-Americans for Jazz and the Genius of the Japanese for corporate
organization or the Genius of the Germans for leadership and making war--and
these are not superficial stereotypes of "national character"--the
oral French or the materialistic American or the ambivalent Japanese or the
lonely Russian or the anal German or the cunning Chinese or the indolent
"native" nor are all Englishmen Shakespeares or all Americans
violent inventors or all Germans Hitler.
Each cultural orientation must allow for and encourage or
discourage among its constituency certain kinds of talents and abilities in
ways that are culturally defined in form and function, and it is by the genius
of a cultural orientation that we may know it.
The sense of history and civilization that is the
distinctive mark of a cultural tradition comes to constrain and influence the
on-going cultural forms and identities of the people in a basically
dialectical and cybernetic way. Shakespeare has been a model for generations
of aspiring English writers and poets, and the functional presence of such
models serves as templates for the continuing reconstruction of a tradition.
******
Basic designs implicit in a particular patterning of
civilization may fall into rather stable states of
"acceptance"--something like the fundamental stability of the basic
morphological forms of life on earth which guarantees that human's will not
likely soon evolve a third eye or a spineless back or a third arm protruding
from its chest.
Basic forms of patterning among cultural orientations
determines a relational "paradigm" of possibilities which will
constrain in basic ways all subsequent developments. Traditions may elaborate
in an endless patterning of expression its same basic Genius and its
derivative meta-themes, and may even exhibit some degree of "Drift"
by which its "focus" and "style-patterning" gradually
shift. But when left on their own, all such orientations seem, from an
endogenous perspective, inherently conservative and
"tradition-bound."
*******
We must see transculturation as an inherently destabilizing
force of cross-cultural contact which leads to irreversible changes among the
cultures involved. Such transculturation is usually accomplished in contexts
involving the assymmetry of power, and thus tends to "flow" down the
human hierarchy of power. By and large the history of acculturation has born
witness to the tragically destructive effects of such uneven processes in
human history. Though sometimes culture contact may take the form of
diffusion, selective borrowing, stimulus generation and lead to the creation
of new forms from the amalgamation of older ones, it more often seems to
result in the destruction of one tradition and its substitution by another.
But in the longer term, transculturation can be seen also to be primarily a
creative process that is the source of new patterns and designs in human
civilization. It leads to the transformation of human reality and to the
realization of new possibilities for human development in the world. We may
not like how it's being done or who is doing it, but we can be assured that,
whether we think it necessary or not, it will eventually happen somehow by
someone.
The overall trend seems to be something like the following
scenario. Though whole groups may be induced to commit murder or genocide, or
compelled to mass suicide, and whole nations can and have marched down the
imperial path of war to utter self-destruction, if and when people are given a
choice, they will select those forms which, from an adaptive standpoint, are
the most apparently "sensible" and which lead to either their own
empowerment or else liberation from constraint. In the long term, the optimism
of human history has been that people can be counted on to choose freedom over
security, sanity over simplicity. In terms of human civilization making sense
of the world, our science has led the way.
All peoples exhibit some threshold value to the resistance
to change and the force of the new. But once overcome, people can prove to be
quite accommodating.
*****
Given this optimism and the inevitability of
transculturation, its acceptance in no way implies that we cannot or should
seek to exercise greater restraint in its praxis or seek in every way possible
to prevent or ameliorate the tragic mistakes which such processes are prone
to. If recent world history teaches us anything, it is that we must be sober
about our optimism. Humankind may be sentient, but it is also inherent myopic.
We must learn to proceed with caution and exercise greater control over the
forces of change in our world, and we should not be so willing to rush
headlong to our own premature destruction or stagnation, or others to theirs.
Transculturation in the world is reaching a state of supercritical
mass--changes are occuring at an accelated rate that is proving more and more
beyond our limited ability to predict or control. We should greatly appreciate
the value of a human tradition of conservatism that teaches us to proceed
slowly, if at all. back
18
EARTHBOUNDNESS and ANTHROPOCENTRISM
Beyond the Bounds of Anthropologos
We have become bound by a world of our own making.
If we can find the anthropological unity of humankind on no
other ground, then we can find it in terms of the common, contemporary global
predicament that humankind faces today. If nothing more, we are united
anthropologically by a common existential challenge and question of our own
civilization--a common challenge for survival in a humanmade world which
threatens to rapidly undermine its own foundation in the natural order. Today
a Bushman cannot hunt an elephant or a giraffe with the same sense of moral
complacency that his grandfather may have had even a generation ago, for the
Bushman now must share with the Spaceman the same global vision of a world of
finite dimensions. In a world facing mass extinctions, the taking of any life
must have major reverberations.
The common existential predicament of humankind today I
will refer to as the human condition of "earthboundness," an
unavoidable horizon of our anthropological perspective which proceeds from the
sudden realization of the finiteness and interrelatedness of life on earth,
and which leads certain kinds of constraints which condition everything we
are, know or do in the world. We can now no longer perform even minor tasks
without having to take into consideration the earthbound implications of such
actions. This has created for us an inescapable existential and moral
imperative to "know" the possible consequences of our own actions on
earth. Our earthboundness has created a new horizon upon our anthropological
knowledge, and a new normative and cognitive need to come to terms with its
implications and limitations for our life.
Our own earthboundness of perspective has been a relatively
recent and sudden collective realization. Its fullest implications for our
lives has not yet fully sunk in, and is not likely to until and unless its
consequences, like our bad Dharma, come ringing at our doorstep. Local and
individual actions have a critical, if indirect, consequence upon a whole
field of relations. Acts may set in motion long chains of events reaching
around the globe and the other end of which may end in our own or other's
backyard.
Our earthboundness has created for us a new kind of dilemma
that we must now resolve. Our earthboundness constrains and presents a common
global horizon upon our world, we must seek somehow to satisfactorily
transcend and emancipate ourselves from the boundaries it imposes upon our
perspective and our lives, while at the same time learning how to live
satisfactorily and successfuly beneath the aegis of its earthbound imperative.
*****
We must construe our own earthboundness from an
anthropological perspective. From such a point of view we must see that
earthboundness is not a natural state of the world, but a human state, a state
of our cultural construction of reality being bounded in all our thoughts and
actions by the dimensionalities and proportionalies of the entire earth.
It begets a state of "earthmindedness"--a
"whole earth" state of mind that regards the entire world as a
single, solitary home for humankind and for life. It comprises a whole
world-view and new transcultural orientation in relation to our new world
environment. It is a new philosophy and way of relating to our world that is
circumscribed in everyway by the earth's natural boundaries. It concerns
principle the global ecology of human being on earth, the human ecology of the
world. Its concern is one of human adaptation in a human constructed world.
In this regard we might refer to our "earthbound
epoch" as a new age of humankind in which our earthboundness will
increasingly constitute the common anthropological foundation for our sense of
human reality, identiy and humanity in the world. We can speak of our
"earthbound civilization" as a kind of intrinsic boundary to the
development of our transculturative processes. We can speak of our emerging
"earthbound environments" as the many local, regional and global
spheres and webs of interdependency in which we are all inextricably enmeshed.
We can refer to our "Earthbound ecology" as a total self-organized
system of relations in human reality, of our "earthbound synergism"
and our "earthbound imperative" for survival.
******
Within an Earthbound perspective, we must learn to see that
our most pressing problems today are irreducibly human problems. Anthropology
thus has a crucial role to play in the unfolding and elaboration of this
perspective and the problems it presents for our world. These are the problems
of overdevelopment, conspicuous consumption, overpopulation and poverty,
environmental pollution resource depletion and ecological degradation, global
stratification social pathology, militarism and the threat of total war, the
problems of the realization of peace and human rights. From an anthropological
perspective, the complexity of these problems tells us that they are all
inextricably interrelated with one another, and that their principle culprit,
modern development, is part of the inevitable process of
"transculturation."
*******
The realization of our earthboundness points up yet another
boundary of our anthropological knowledge, the boundary presented by our own
anthropocentrism. We have largely taken for granted that all language must
necessarily be human language, all sentience human sentience, all culture,
human in orientation. The likelihood of our reaching out into deep space to
encounter other alien creatures with the intelligence, civilization and
technology to journey to our world reminds us that we may believe in our
anthropological truths in ways we have not thought to question, and that our
anthropological science may thus be limited by our common "human
sense" in ways which defy scientific sense.
We do not have to venture so far afield to run up against
the fallacies and boundaries of our own anthropocentrism. Our daily
interactions and encounters with other forms of life on earth, from primates
to sea mammals to insects and plants, reveals to us our inability to be a Dr.
Doolittle or to understand the communication systems or cultural patternings
developed by other species. Even our encounters with other people's of very
alien cultures has frequently brought to bear the point that our
anthropological understanding of human reality was often as anthropocentric as
it was "ethnocentric," and that therefore anthropocentrism has the
same source of prejudice and hubris, and the same consequences of ignorance,
as does ethnocentrism. Many groups have referred to themselves as "human
beings," and by implication, to other's as something less than human.
We must acknowledge our basic anthropological hubris that
sees our needs and interests on earth as the exclusive or most important one's
to consider. We must recognize our hubris when we recognize our sentience as
something sacred, special and superior to the qualities and sentience of
experience that is the condition of other forms of life on earth. We must
recognize our hubris when we promote policies of our own development at the
expense of the natural world. Our's is neither the only nor the best of all
possible worlds.
Upon the boundaries of our anthropological knowledge, we
come to a "no-human's-land" where different fields of inquiry and
understanding interpenetrate and fuse into an indistinguishable whole. There
upon the edge of the unknown, we meet the ultimate relativity of our deepest
selves.
19
WORLD CAPITALISM, CULTURAL ECONOMIES
and the ANTHROPOLOGY of ECONOMICS
Some Unasked Questions of Human History
One person's pain may well be another's pleasure.
Some have hailed economics as the most
"scientific" of the social sciences, but those who do so fail to
distinguish between capitalist or Marxist version of economics, or between
formalist versus substantivist economics. Such "science" typically
has too much of an ideological component-- a "self-fulfilling
prophecy" of "see, I told you so" about it to warrant calling
it legitimate science. Underpaid Anthropologists, for the most part, have been
far to critical and astute to fall into such a trap, and thus economic
anthropology has come to make important contributions to an authentic science
of economics in terms of conceptions of reciprocity, redistributive and market
economics, in terms of political economy, primitive money and economics, and
cultural defined systems of ritual prestation and exchange. In this one area,
at least, the real vision and virtuosity of anthropology as an authentic human
science becomes clear, and the fallacy of the positivistic presumption of
ideologically embedded social sciences become plainly evident by contrast.
But economic anthropology itself has been strongly
criticized for failing to address critical questions regarding human economic
behavior and its relationship to wider cultural patternings. It often presumes
away such questions in its formulation of research and theory--leaving the
whole area of human economics to be taken for granted by those more interested
in other questions.
The materialist emphasis of political economists have not
helped the matter very much--in fact the adoption of an attitude of the
"World according to Marx" has served as much to obfuscate some of
the more important questions as much has it has helped to enlighten anyone.
*****
It is in regard to these questions that I address the
following critique of "the anthropology of human economics."
Political economy has by and large stressed the
"economics" over the politics, and has failed to see either how the
policies and processes of bureucratic encapsulation and administrative
colonization and cooption have gone hand-in-hand with capitalist development
and underdevelopment of the first, second, third, fourth and fifth worlds.
Further, its attempt at a dialectical history of the transition of feudalism
to capitalism has failed to implicate the role of militarism, the armaments
industry, military imperialism, and the threat and power of violence have
played in the establishment of political economic spheres of control in the
world. Economic incentives stood behind Hitler's rise to power and march upon
the world as much as did political motivations. Also, the role of social
relations and the structure of social organization in the determination of
historical events and political-economic processes has been largely downplayed
as of secondary and derivative importance. Servitude and Slavery in the middle
ages, and growing class inequalities in Europe have played a major role in the
determination of economic and poltical life. Many wars have been class wars,
many markets have been common markets. Also, the role played by the major
world religions, Christianity in its many forms, Islam, Buddhism, Shintoism,
Hinduism, Judaism, in the promotion and extension of economic and political
spheres of interest and influence in the world has remained largely an
unaddressed question, eventhough a great deal of historical evidence survives
that the role played by merchants and missionaries alike were, if not
synonymous, then very complementary.
When we speak of the World Capitalist System, are we
implying as well a domestic analogy between the relations between core,
semi-periphery and periphery and in global stratification between first,
second, third and more worlds in the international system? Are we construing
development in its proper perspective, in the sense that classical economists
would want us to see it, without taking into account in our economic profit
formulas the social costs of development, the underdevelopment of human
resources and the undevelopment of natural resources. Furthermore, are we to
regard the entire History of this capitalist world system as begining with
some mysterious transition point between a feudal and a capitalist "mode
of production" somewhere in Europe in the 15th century, or might we
regard the entire system as a bit more heterogenous, and speak instead of many
different capitalisms that together have a much longer history than just
Europe since the Renaissance. Markets, the flow of capital, trade networks,
specialization, have been aspects of human civilization since its inception.
Has rational, modern, "economizing" humankind been all that
different from its first progenitures? When can we first locate the
"economic specialist" that was once called a "trader" and
that today we gloss with the word "businessman".
Our tendency to want to localize traditional humankind in
one point in space and time, and our tendency to see the "primitive"
humanity as a wandering, homeless vagrant, tends to prejudice our view of our
prehistoric forebearers who may have had, from the very earliest times, quite
extensive and well developed trade networks. A prehistoric process of
"transculturation" that integrated vast regions of the earth. In
this regard, the role of coastal and riverine adaptations, and the part such
adaptation may have played in stimulating human civilization, has not been
thoroughly enough addressed.
We are left with a version of the history of capitalism
somewhat more complicated and confused than either the good Marxists or the
faithful capitalists would have us believe.
To recurperate our anthropological perspective of human
economics, we must distinguish in the first place between what has
conventionally become known as economic anthropology and an limited
application of the anthropology of knowledge that we might call the
anthropology of human economics. Sidestepping the debates and theoretical
issues of the former field, I wish to focus instead on some of the
implications and insights of the latter alternative.
First we need to address a basic paradigm of the
anthropology of economics.
All or most human behavior has an economic component or
entailment. Human economics can be defined as the dynamic relations between
humans and resources and is an important measure of human adaptation to an
environment. In this regard we must consider as much the distribution of
humans to economic resources as the distribution of such resources to humans.
In otherwords, economics concerns and is the measure of the relationship
between humankind and its environment.
Economic exchange is human exchange of resources, and has
been a fundamental mechanism of culturative and transculturative integration
of human reality. Such exchange can be part of other cultural processes, and
can itself be the center for the elaboration of other cultural processes.
Exchange can accompany war parties or missionaries, and exchange itself can be
elaborately, ritualistically formalized. In otherwords, all human economic
exchange is inextricably cultural and "constructed" exchange. It is
one of the fundamental ways in which humankind realizes and makes its world.
All exchange, whatever its form or function, is always also
symbolic exchange. The symbolic aspects of any kind of economic transaction
cannot be discounted or ignored in our economic formulas, as such exchanges
and things exchanged become the principle symbolic vehicles for the expression
and communication of power, prestige, status, and other human emotions,
feeling and beliefs.
Because it is both cultural and symbolic, all economic
exchange is always culturally defined and contextualized. Different cultural
orientations will define economic values, resources and their significances
different. French fur traders may have given the Mandan beads, trinkets and
baubles in exchange for the favors of their daughters, but the Mandan were
secretly gaining from the Fur Traders the spiritual source of their power.
Which point of view is the most rational and which makes the most sense?
In this respect we can refer to "cultural
economy" as part and parcel of the life ways and traditional orientations
of different culture groupings, and to "transcultural economy" as
the dynamic regional integration of different "cultural
economies"--and we have always probably always had such a perspective of
a "dual economy" in which we distinguish between local interests and
involvements and globally oriented involvements. Can we necessarily say today
that the global marketplace is necessarily more predominant over the local
economic context than it was 10,000 years ago? Might we not neglect to see
that in the absolute impoverishment of three fifths of the worlds population,
that the poor have economically adopted to their local environments in ways
fundamentally oblivious to the gaze of the Western Economist bent upon
achievement motivation, profit incentive and resource acquisition.
The conception of cultural and transcultural economy
invites consideration of the interrelationship between the economic component
of human culture and its many other facets. Economic motives become but one,
rather efficacious element in the complex calculus of socio-cultural value and
performance. At few points in human history can we clearly separate what is
pure economic behavior from other forms of interest and involvement. This
brings up the point of the rise of increasing role differentiation and
specialization, or subcultural compartmentalization in more complex societies,
such that we can legitimately speak today of full-time professionals involved
in banking, finance, insurance, business management, sales, marketing,
advertisement, stock-market brokerage, economic analysis, education, etc,
where several thousand years ago a hunter may have also been a part-time
trader, shaman, raconteur, teacher, warrior, politician. But even today, given
the need for cross-cutting integration of life in a complex, overspecialized
world, can we still distinguish all that clearly between the personal economic
activities of the individual caught up in webs and economies of exchange and
the professional role of economic specialists, and can we clearly distinguish
between pure "achievement motivation" versus "power" or
"social" or other forms of motivation.
Human economics has always been and always will remain a
vital component of human cultural integration of reality. Our economic
involvement is as basic to our behavior and being as is our language and other
forms of symbolic communication. In fact, as much as economics involves the
human exchange of resources, it can be deemed to be an intrinsic component of
the transmission of culture itself--intrinsic both to the processes of
culturation and transculturation. Because all transmission is a form of
economic exchange of cultural value, we can more clearly see how such
transmission is traditionally constrained and negotiated. The openness of such
transmission sets up the possibility for both reciprocal evenness and
unevenness of exchange, dependency and dominance which can over the long run
result in marked assymetry in the the distribution of humans to resources and
resources to humans.
Humankind is in part defined by its economic behavior.
Conceptions of rationality, of finding or fixing proportion, and of justice
itself, are rooted in the reciprocities of human relation intrinsic in
economic exchange. It makes sense to refer to humankind as Homo economicus as
this is the kind of symbolic animal we are. Economy is an intrinsic condition
of human reality. Human beings are not social insects. We do not form ant
colonies divided between queens and workers and soldiers. We do not
instinctually offer up our life for the sake of another or of the
"whole" without some measure or weighing of our positions, of the
relative merit or value to be gained or lost. We calculate and negotiate our
transactions with reality to the best of our interests and abilities.
********
It is important in the anthropology of economics to
distinguish the historical rise of specific corporate institutional forms and
practices which have an economic component and character, and to distinguish
these institutional phenomena from the economic behavior of people who may
compose these institutions. Slavery in the Southern United States in the
pre-Civil War era was a unique institutional form that should be distinguished
from the form of slavery practiced among North American Indians prior to
European Contact, or during the Roman Empire, or in SouthWestern Europe during
the middle ages. The Dutch East India company was a specific institutional
arrangement which is to be distinguished from the British East India Company.
The kind of banking institutions that chartered and financed early explorers
or colonists are different from the credit institutions which promoted
economic development of the hinterlands of colonial Southeast Asia, or banking
and finance institutions of today which promote research and development.
Government, whether local, state or national, must be seen as a specific form
of institutional arrangment made possible by taxation and a redistributive
economy. The Catholic Church, in promoting monogamy and inhibiting the
inheritance of land in Medieval Europe, became one of the richest and most
powerful institutions in Europe, replete with its own armies, bureaucratic
machineries and ideology. Kinship organization and Chieftaincies and early
city-states and state empires are all organized around the principle of the
exchange and distribution of resources among an institutionally defined
community.
We must clearly recognize the historical factiveness of
human economic institutions, and the economic role of corporate institutional
organization in general, in the control, distribution and utilization of
resources. Such institution can be seen to be a basic social innovation of
cultural groupings, the invention of social organization, which can become
culturally sanctioned and integrated in many different ways.
From this standpoint, panhuman reality is replete with
instances and functions of institutionalization. We can see that institutions
once incorporated, take on a superorganic form and life of their own which is
"larger than life" of any individual. We become actors in roles cast
in a larger frame of significance. In this regard, sex stratification, the
role and importance of kinship in providing screens of security and resources,
can be seen to carry forms of institutional significance that cannot be
adequately explained in a phenomenological or existential way, and yet which
are inextricably enmeshed in the experiences of its participants.
From the standpoint of the anthropology of knowledge,
institutionalization involves the objectivation, reification and symbolic
legitimation of humanly constructed practices, in relation to the world, on
the basis of the human relation to resources. Institutionalization in this
sense is fundamentally cultural economic in foundation. Because human beings
have an investment in the stability of the status quo, and are enmeshed in its
web of interdependencies, the institutional structuration of human society is
inherently conservative and resistant to change. Human habits, however
acquired, are difficult to change.
The institution of black slavery in the American South no
longer exists today, and for most people, the whole idea of such slavery seems
abominable and aversive to our tastes, even though today we continue to
tolerate and legitimate other forms of human institution which promote a
comparable amount of human misery and inequality as did black slavery. The
historical factiveness of human institutionalization of economic behavior does
not preclude the facticity and historicity of our own institutions. Because a
great deal is usually invested in an certain kind of institutional
arrangement, there is usually some cost to their transformation. Such
institutionally defined interests and investments are usually construed and
evaluated in terms of their cultural or transcultural economics. It took a
bloody long war to bring black slavery to an end in the world. What will it
take to bring relative economic equality to the World System? back
20
HUMAN RIGHTS and RESPONSIBILITIES
The Development of Human Resources
The "Solution" to modern development is human
development.
The exclusive emphasis upon industrial development in the
world today has led to a deemphasis upon the possibilities of human
development, even though it is generally acknowledged that even small
investments in human development yield large, if ultimately unmeasurable,
dividends for any society. Seeing that we are rapidly developing ourselves to
death, it would behoove us to reconsider alternative possibilities for human
development than are available to us today.
Capitalist development ideology has critically ignored the
importance of finite natural resource bases in its formulas for economic
success, leading to irreparable loss or ruination of many natural resources
available to humankind. On the other hand, it has also critically ignored the
possibilities of greater human resource development, construing for the most
part the "masses" as a vast "docile and obedient" reserve
labor pool for its industrial production and service, and as the vast market
for the consumption of industrial goods and services.
A consideration of the cultural economy of the world would
lead anyone to the conclusion that the best solution to our ills of
overdevelopment/underdevelopment is to shift the emphasis from material
development which rapaciously exploits the natural resource base, and instead
to begin developing the human resource base as a vast, potentially untapped
reservoir of energy, talent and cultural capacity while adopting a more
conservative policy towards natural resource expenditure. The means for
effecting such a transition in the cultural economy of the world are readily
available, and the benefits accruing to humankind for such an institutional
transtion are much greater than will be otherwise if we fail to develop our
human resources.
******
How shall we define our human resources? We can refer to
the energy, intelligence, creativity and spirit to accomplish great feats with
restricted budgets as a sure sign of the maximization of such a resource.
Bringing human talent and potential to full fruition, in the realization of
many different styles of cultural genius, can be considered a means of
developing and realizing our human resources.
Such development does not require a marketplace of human
talent in which only the best-payed brains are winners--human talent does not
require the same kind of economic motivation as does human greed and power
mongering.
One thing remains clear. The development of human resources
will depend directly upon our capacity to bring to the world greater
realization of human rights and responsibilities. We are left to reconsider
the issue of human rights, their honor, their meta-ethical status, their
realization and failure, their philosophical and scientific basis of
justification, and their prospects for fulfillment. We must distinguish
between basic and derived human rights, as well as the sense of social
responsibility that accompanies the freedoms that are concommittant to their
fulfillment. We must also identify some of the many means of their systematic
subversion, as well as non-violent strategies for their promotion in the
world.
Ideally, human rights can be said to be the foundation of
human law and political action in the world--it underlies all legal and
political structures at every level of social organization. Its relative
fulfillment or failure constitutes the moral basis by which we can ajudicate
the legality or illegitimacy of a particular law or legal action
Rights and responsibilities cannot be separated--each
entails the other. The basic rights have in the course of development become
extended and include a much wider base than they were conceived to in their
formulations in the doctrines of the late 18th century. Today we can easily
include among the basic rights of humankind the right to health, to home, to
education, to work, to job security, to a natural, clean environment, to
volunteer to fight and give one's life for one's country. We can also
distinguish basic human rights from more specialized, derivative forms of
rights and responsibilities which are more context specific.
It is important to understand how forces in our world have
persistently, deliberately and systematically striven to undermine and usurp
and prevent the realization of human rights. This kind of activity has
especially occurred in the gray areas of derivative and pseudo-rights. It is
important to understand also that human rights protect basic human freedoms,
assuring liberity and emancipation from exploitation or domination, and is our
best guarantee for relative equality in the world. The primary motivation
behind the systematic usurpation of human rights in the world has been the
desire to deprive human beings of their basic freedoms, to exploit and
dominate them, and to block their access to resources. But freedom, and our
rights, can only be assured in a democratically organized society, and only if
human development includes the cultivation of basic human responsibilities
towards one another, their social system, and to humankind in general. One
person's freedom ends where another's rights begin, and only one's sense of
responsibility and the other's sense of justice can determine this line. In
general, rights and responsibilities are negotiated and transacted. The basis
for our conception of a metaethical moral order for humankind and of our sense
of universal justice lies in our faith in the virtual, sentient equality of
all human beings. We are, from the standpoint of our sentient humanness, all
potentially equal.
We can see clearly the relationship between a pacifist and
nonviolent orientation and the realization of human rights; and freedom. The
greatest threat to human rights and freedom is the tyranny of fear and threat
of violence that defines ultimate political authority in the world.
It should also be apparent that human development rests
upon the realization of human freedom, which in turn rests upon the
realization of human rights and responsibilities in the world. We can properly
speak, in a functional, if not "utilitarian" sense, of each person's
pursuit of freedom, and of the "invisible hand" that leads
democratic, open social organization to prosper culture economically.
American society has always been hooked upon the horns of a
basic contradiction. On one hand it has framed and mostly upheld as the
foundation of its constitutional democracy the values of human liberty,
justice, equality and human rights. On the otherhand, the same doctrine
frequently dictates a univeral moral attitude based on the assumptions of
global humanitarianism, which places its most vital moral interests at odds
with its more predominant national interests in the pursuit of power, military
strength, economic prosperity, etc. In other words, when the realization of
its basic moral doctrine in the world must lead it to compromise its national
interests in strength, security and solidarity, the pursuit of the latter
national interests frequently leads it to compromise its higher moral ideals.
And this is a basic ethical dilemma which all of us must face in one way or
another whatever our specialization in the world. In an earthbound world, we
can only be assured of the greater urgency in resolving this dilemma both
collectively and in each of our lives. We now live in a world in which
socio-economic success and prosperty frequently runs counter to our more
global earthbound interests, and in which the pursuit of earthbound interests
may amount to practical social suicide.
The human development of responsibility then must be seen
to include the resolution of such a basic ethical, existential dilemma. It
would seem to ultimately dictate a kind of normative education for
independence and responsibility that will lead to the positive valuation and
embodiment of the altruistic ideals of Kohlberg's post-conventional stage of
moral development. We urgently need an active army of many minor Gandhi's and
Kings who walk the common paths of the world and effect many small changes in
people's lives. Perhaps such an expectation is too idealistic to come true,
but if we can easily convince young adults to sacrifice themselves for
patriotic ideals of national interest, we can just as readily induce them to
give themselves for more human matters of peace and justice. The optimism of
humankind is that if given a real choice, they will have the courage to decide
for themselves.
******
Cultural and psychological evidence strongly suggest that
the realities of modern development rarely if ever live up to its promise.
Developed peoples give up the chronic diseases of poverty for the diseases of
overconsumption. A sense of belonging in a simpler world is exchanged for a
sense of isolation, anomie, chronic separation and purposelessness. Those who
have achieved development do not construe their own lives in the same way as
they are seen by those who most desire to be developed. To be sure few people
in the developed countries would willingly give up their lives of material
plenty to lead a life of misery, poverty, lack of opportunity, that is the
common lot of most undeveloped people on earth. But development does not come
without its psychic, emotional and cultural costs.
From an anthropological perspective, it is not too much to
suggest that the viable alternative to the kind of economic development the
world has been so hurriedly and so single-mindedly pursuing would be the kind
of human development; that would raise the human collective consciousness,
lead to the greater emancipation of humankind from the evil which has long
beset our civilization, and promote the prosperity of peace through the
greater realization of human rights and equality in the world.
It is a paradox that in the long run, and in the final
analysis, such an alternative would most likely cost much less and yield much
greater profits for humankind than if we continue down the path we've been
upon.back
21
MISANTHROPY
And the Anthropology of Evil
Human Beings fear the unknown, and failing to face it, grow
to hate what they fear.
Knowledge creates responsibility. We recognize our humanity
by sense of responsibility created our knowledge of the evil in the world, by
our ignorance, our complicity, our prejudices, our deceit and our hypocrisy.
Our knowledge may be measured by the gulf of our own ignorance and hypocrisy,
by the lies we tell about the world. We measure the moral boundaries of
humanity by the knowledge of its possibility for evil in the world. The
historical and panhuman basis for a meta-ethics of humanity is rooted in the
perennial recognition and experience of evil across time and throughout the
world.
Evil has many faces in our world and many causes. There can
be as much evil in unwanted or misplaced love as there are in indifference or
hatred. Evil can be personal, cultural or transcultural in expression. Money
may be the root of all evil, as can human power and arbitrariness, as well as
the vagaries and disasters of nature. Evil is rooted in human suffering, fear,
aggression, the tolerance for violence, the violation of human rights. Evil
can be institutionally legitimated. It can be highly impersonal or
neurotically hyperpersonal. It can be random or targeted.
Whatever its character, all evil shares certain basic
attributes. Whether intentional or deliberate or not, evil always involves the
enactment of a relationship of victimization between a "victimizer"
and a victim. Evil is what people do to other people when they violate their
basic rights. It is social action that causes suffering or violation.
Symbolically, the victimizer depends upon the hapless fate of the
victim--victimization entails a kind of neurotic persecution or incrimination
of the innocent of the sense of guilt and fear of what remains unresolved
within the self. It thus involves a moral repression of the victimizer's own
responsibility for involvement, its projection onto the victim in the form of
victimization, and an invisibility of such responsibility which allows the
victimizer to act, to victimize. In other words, the victimizer has no
internalized form of contraint or moral boundary which would preclude the
possibility for or prevent victimization. The transparency and invisibility of
the victimizer's role in victimization is part of the conscious repression of
the responsibility this role entails. We can see that victimization is always
a symbolic "acting out" of basic conflicts that remain unresolved in
the life of the victimizer.
We can find the source of these conflicts in the moral
immaturity or malformation of the individual in society, and of the sense of
discrepancy between the victimizer's worlds of primary acquisition and
subsequent social development. Strongly discrepant realities can be the source
of a great deal of contradiction, confusion and hence frustration at its
resolution. Chronic victimizers failed products the processes of the normative
production of human reality. They suffer internalized conflicts that prevent
them from carrying on a normal moral life, and compel them to symbolically act
out their conflicts in the world. We are, in our unfinished states, partially
frustrated and failed victimizers. We all share in our common capacity for
evil in the human heart of darkness. Only most of us are able to bring this
capacity under control, even transforming it into a beneficial creativity. In
order to bring it into control, we are able to render it visible to ourselves,
to reflect upon it and to recognize it within ourselves. It requires a kind of
"moral vision" which is reflexive and apperceptive--able to
penetrate the veil of illusion that surrounds our own involvement with the
world. Victimizers suffer a common predicament of normative blindness that
precludes the possibility of their coming to terms with their own evil.
Part of this blindness is the inability to see or sense the
suffering of others. But beneath this is the inability to see or sense a
deeper kind of symbolic suffering that remains repressed and unresolved
within.
It is invisible because it is repressed and indirectly
available in our lives. It may be rooted in our context in the world as much
as in our subconscious expressions. Like culture and character, context and
unconscious are dialectically bound to one another, and constitute a kind of
processural substration of our symbolic representation and expressive behavior
in the world. We organically incorporate the world within ourselves, and
extend ourselves into the world--and we cannot have one without the other.
It can be seen as a failure to incorporate the moral values
that would lead the individual down a path to philanthropic humanity. The
victimizer is moral monster who does not know how to become human, and instead
becomes inhumane in its frustration. Evil in this sense is a kind of
anthropological perversity of the human character--the possibility for our
perversion that is rooted in our condition of world openness and
unfinishedness.
Misanthropy and evil are not just moral problems, they
are human phenomena that require anthropological attention as well. It is
important that we understand the origins and causes of misanthropy in human
nature and culture. It is important that we seek an anthropological definition
and solution for human evil that like any disease has an etiology and an
explanation, and understanding that will allow us to approach such phenomena
in a more realistic and humane manner. Human history has been replete with
both, so much so in fact that it is difficult to believe that humankind or its
society may be in constitution morally good--goodness seems to have been the
far too uncommon exception to the rule. And of course, as a mentor was fond of
reminding me, people are neither good nor bad, and nothing is wholly evil or
wholly good. We must understand that a definition of evil must be based upon
some notion of anthropological goodness, and that misanthropy must be
understood against the phenomena of philanthropy.
From an anthropological standpoint, such questions are
extremely relativistic in the best and worst senses of that term--so much so
in fact as to lead to serious doubt whether we can legitimately speak of any
such phenomena or principle as anthropological, pan-human good or evil. But
there is a sense that every empirical problem and epistemological question
that an anthropologist might ask must always have a concomittant normative
consequence or entailment. Questions of meaning, fact, and value cannot be
clearly separated even for the purposes of anthropological analysis.
We must acknowledge though, that some higher, meta-ethical
and panhuman standard of moral injunction or imperative is regarded has valid,
though this is most only presumed and implicit, and though its exact
prescriptions or specification resists clear elucidation. This is so because
though we all act within a self-enclosed moral-symbolic-rational universe that
tends to construe whatever we do as just and appropriate, history and the
world will still come to judge us by the net human consequences of our
actions, whether we will inflict suffering upon others or alleviate their
suffering. Though we acknowledge the cultural origins of many forms of evil,
we cannot thereby anthropologically legitimate such evil.
But the anthropological perspective which regards the
expression and constraint of evil to be based upon culture, sees that it
shares as a cultural phenomena a normally wider and more complex sphere of
causality and influence than those who want to point fingers find exceptable.
Spheres of involvement are cultural and usually to some extent institutionally
incorporated. Thus many people will be found who share partial involvement in
the perpetration of evil in the world, and few who will share total or
exclusive responsibility. It is true that when such evil happens, those who
are perhaps the most to blame for it may be the least susceptible or suspect
of its guilt.
*******
The sense of evil, of being wronged, has the same source in
the human right and in symbolic sentience as does our sense of justice. We
understand that we have been wrong, that some value or norm that we hold has
been violated, even if it is not exactly clear how or what the ramifications
of the violation may really be. Indeed, the possibility for being or doing
evil stems from the same source of world openness as does our possibility for
goodness. Though cultural norms and values and the sanctions taken against
their violation vary widely among different cultural groupings, it is clearly
that there is no culture on earth that does not have some such normative
system by which to weigh and reward people's behavior. People are neither born
good nor evil, but must learn how to be either. This learning will carry an
individual through many trials and tribulations over the course of a lifetime.
There is a sense that before we can learn well our lessons, we must make many
mistakes, and this inherent proneness to error in our cultural acquisition can
be the source of much "evil."
We can see the possibility and likelihood of evil as rooted
in the moral immaturity of humankind. It is a humankind that fails to transmit
or acquire the level of responsibility toward the rights of others that the
amelioration of evil requires. In our daily lives, we are immersed in a stream
of action which always has moral ramifications and entailments steming beyond
the narrow spheres of our own self-interest or even our own particular
cultural orientation.
Evil can be seen to proceed from the default of the
affirmation of the sentience and equality of the subjective other that is at
the heart of nonviolent action. It can be rooted in either a profound
indifference and ignorance of the suffering of others, or for a hatred of the
differences and plight of others. It leads to the form of rationalization in
which the victim is blamed for victimization, and the responsibility and
involvement of the victimizer are invisible. This transparency of misanthropy
has the same character as ethnocentrism, and thus can be seen to largely have
a cultural character.
We can see that misanthropy is a form of evil that comes
from the projection onto others of the feelings of inferiority, weakness,
difference, that are repressed within oneself. Misanthropy is usually attended
to with such intensity of feeling and intent that is disproportional to the
nature of the real relationship between people based upon their cultural
differences. Misanthropy proceeds from an undeveloped and frustrated sense of
self-identity.
The immaturity or maldevelopment of misanthropy can be seen
to be part of a larger cultural complex of the relative cultural dependency
and boundedness of people in relation to a larger world, webs of neurotic
relationship that frustrate and prevent people from achieving the level of
liberation and self-realization that might otherwise be possible. Such
dependency always has its appeal to the darkness of people's hearts--to the
sense of terror or aggression, greed or avarice. Cultural orientations may
either foster such dependency, and reinforce patterns of neurotic adaptation
in a kind of "archosis" which, like a crutch and a placebo, promotes
nonbeingness and a failure to face the separation and marginal experience of
death in a realistic way. Whole cultures and even nations may be wrapped up in
a mythoi of symbolic, collective representations which entails the regular
denial or "forgetting" of negative experiences or the suppression of
the kinds of contradictions which might otherwise seem to threaten one's
"sacred" sense of order. People without courage will fear what they
do not know, and then will grow to hate what they fear.
Such patternings of social archosis and neurotic
interdependency can become institutionally incorporated, and then acquire a
certain objectivity and "facticity" which obfuscates their
human-made origins.
In this sense, much of the modern evils in the world can be
seen to be rooted in the symbolic reification of humankind--the turning of the
human being into a "thing" that is something less than fully human.
The legitimation of the institutions of slavery in the past had as their basis
just such a reification of the human other as something less than human, or as
human at all. It is clear that in the human world, what we are actually
dealing with are the socially circumscribed categories of the imagination
which casts human differences into a differential, stratified field of
relations and dependency. The master mentality and the slave mentality go hand
in hand and dialectically require one another.
The level of mass destruction and bloodshed on modern
battlefields, and the increasing victimization of civilian citizenry in
warfare, is founded upon this incorporation of evil and the kind of collective
social pathology of militarism and nationalism which promotes this evil. The
tyranny of war is that its has removed the element of choice from the threat
of violence--it compels and literarily forces otherwise good people to commit
immoral, atrocious acts of violence. "War is hell whenever men are forced
to fight--when the limit of consent is breached." When we have state
machineries of mobilization for war and of mass conscription, we have the
transformation of both the soldiery and citizenry alike into a common cannon
fodder--grist for the bureaucratic, administrative mills which always carry an
impersonal face and which always hide and protect and inner, elite circle.
*******
We cannot discuss the anthropology of human evil without
taking a moment to consider the problem of reform. We must liberate the notion
of reform from its relativistic connotation of "veritas"--that there
may be a "true" way of which evil is a "false" or
untrue" way. Reform must begin with the acknowledgement of the
possibility and valuation of human differences in the world.
Evil, like any human phenomena, must also be seen as
holistically complex. It presents to us a problem for which there are no
simple or straightforward solutions. In this regard, reform projects that look
to rehabilitate or ameliorate all the causes and consequences for evil, at
the same time, are perhaps the most efficacious means of reform.
This often entails a form of radical reidentification, a
"conversion" experience which causes a radically split between
present and previous lives, involving much reinterpretation of prior
experiences in terms of a new world-view. The therapeutic value of religious
conversion in this regard must be recognized. From a psychoanalytic viewpoint,
such conversion experiences entail the "displacement of libido" and
the transference of libidinal associations onto new symbolic forms which are
external to one's inner world. This is precisely the kind of rehabilitative
therapeutic transformation that the psychiatrist and the shaman try to effect
in their patient's lives.
But we must also see that extreme evil will be so deeply
rooted in the organic and primary processes of the individual as to prove
impervious to even the most radical kind of conversion experience or the most
total form of holistic reintegration. At this level, the kind of therapy that
seems the most remedial if not completely effective the kind of permanent,
organic transformations which come with behavior modification and
stress-induction associated with brainwashing. The trouble with this is that
such stress-induction results in a kind of irreversible kindling and
"deindividuation" the consequences of which may be worse than the
original "problem." It leads to the breaking down of the
individual's normal adaptive faculties and to patterns of withdrawal which may
compound or aggravate an originally unresolved problem. In this regard,
radical therapies like lobotomies, or extensive drug programs or electric
shock treatment, torture and radical deprivation, will result in irreversible
damage that may or may not entail the elimination of the original problem.
Such therapy and our individually oriented theories of
psychology downplay the role and importance of a socio-centric and cultural
orientation in the understanding of social pathology and thus for the
possibilities for their reform. Entire social systems or cultural orientations
may be maladaptively perverse and "diseased" or inherently evil. By
and large, anthropology has not given us any theoretical framework upon which
to evaluate cultures, and we are left to place almost the entire burden of
pathology, disease and evil upon the psychological constitution of the
individual, without paying much attention to the alternative, of normal people
trying to adapt to a diseased and evil social system. Edward Sapir drew a
useful distinction between "spurious" and genuine societies based
upon the quality and normal character of social relations and to the place a
society will give to the independent life of the individual. In a similar way
Alfred Kroeber associated civilization with the cultivation and rise in
frequency of culturally stylized Genius, and the demise of civilization with
the demotion and infrequency of talent. One marker of social pathology is to
the surfeit of value it provides to the subjective life of the individual, as
well as to the extent that its system results in the violence and
victimization of human beings. In this regard, any system that demotes human
differences, devalues individual freedom, and promotes extreme uniformity or
conformity must be regarded as spurious and therefore pathological. The
character of the "true believer" cannot be adequately comprehended
outside of socio-cultural context of its cultivation and fulfillment.
We lack the kinds of innovations that will therapeutically
rehabilitate and bring reform to entire societies or institutions. These kinds
of reforms will not be found in prisons, churches or schools built upon the
principle of seeking exclusive guilt in, persecuting and reforming the
individual.
The common symptom of a diseased, inhuman system is its
structures which obfuscate reality, creating an inner circle of deceit, and
which impersonally deny, implicitly or systematically, the subjective value if
the individual human being.
Anthropology must come to examine the role and effects
which strongly authoritarian power structures come to play in human
stratification and the perpetuation of "organized" forms of human
evil in the world. People worldwide exhibit a strong tendency to organize
themselves into hierarchies of dominance that exclude human freedom and that
eventuate in evil. In this sense, "power corrupts." back
22
PEACE and POWER
Anthropological Challenges of Our Future
The suffering of the few is the plight of the many.
We have yet to consider the ultimate challenge to our
anthropological knowledge--the problem of peace in the world. We have a long
tradition of intellectual and social movements in the West that have had
paradise and perfection as their professed project. Enlightenment, capitalism,
and even communism all shared wholeheartedly in this common culture historical
tradition.
We must see and seek peace in the world not as some
absolute state of the absence of war or violence in the world. We must seek it
rather in terms of the relative pacification of humankind and the reduction of
the evil of war and its effects. The realization of relative peace on earth
entails more than the absence and demotion of war, but also the liberation
from the tyranny of war and the treat of violence and violent victimization in
all phases of life. Furthermore, it is inextricably tied up with the
emancipation of humankind from the bondage of its own prejudices and
ignorance, and the promotion and realization of human freedom, dignity,
equality and rights on earth.
The cultivation of a pacificist orientation entails a new
perspective and a new way of life that has no more room for guns, bombs, for
violence and victimization, or for the suffering of any life on earth. A
pacifist orientation is of necessicity an orientation of nonviolence.
*******
What are the anthropological implications of pacifism in an
earthbound world? Violence is seen to come from a perverse attachment to power
in the world--a kind of ego-empowerment based upon the principle of becoming
which promotes its own security and realization over that of other life.
Liberation from the common human heart of darkness comes from the coming to
terms and embracing of that heart of darkness such that it opens onto the
light of the world. The appeal of the non-violent demonstrator is to the
awakening of the common spirit of humanity--with both its potential for
violent action as well as for justice, that is found in the heart of the
potentially violent executor. The common ground of humanness, of human
sentience shared by victim and victimizer, makes such an appeal a possibility,
and potentially powerful agency for nonviolent action. In this regard the
capacity for violence and for impersonal victimization must be seen to depend
upon the denial of the subjective humanity of the other--in otherwords upon a
basic complex of "misanthropy." This common denial of the subjective
other has as its root the denial of the subjective otherness within the self.
Consequently, the appeal of nonviolent action is ultimately to the subjective
sentience of the victimizer, and to its power to heal the human heart of
darkness. The awakening of the potential capacity to feel, to empathize and
find sympathy with the suffering of others, ultimately comes from the
realization of the imagined possibility that the suffering of others could be
our own suffering.
This entails a Buddhist prescription of "active"
versus passive resistance to violence. It entails a demonstration to the
victimizer of the consequences of victimization in a way that does not invite
or encourage retribution. We should not seek blood for blood, but to turn
tears into blood and blood into tears. It is the sharp but harmless rapping on
the head of the violent to invite the opening of the doors of consciousness.
To victimize the heart of the victimizer is to transform the monster into a
pacifist soul sister.
It is apparent that from a psychological standpoint, the
cultivation of a pacifist orientation entails the letting go of anger and
hatred, and a coming to terms with the things which cause such anger or hate.
Anger, hatred, jealousy and false pride are feelings which are inherently
destructive of human relations and which can eat up the human heart. One must
seek out within oneself and exorcise the sources of one's negative feelings
about the world, no matter what its external, objective symbolic manifestions.
*****
Peace and power; have been known in human history to stand
in uneasy relationship. Power is often wielded by the threat of war, while
peace can only be sometimes had at the cost of such power.
The pacifist doctrine holds a fundamental nonattachment to
power. All forms of empowerment in the world bring with it the potential for
violence. Cultivation of a pacifist orientation therefore dictates a
renunciation of all external forms of power, and an actual seeking of
"depowerment" in the world.
But there is, anthropologically speaking, another form of
empowerment which is not inimical to a pacifist way of life, and is in fact
necessary to the fulfillment of such a way of life. This is the cultivation of
independent, internal forms of power that come from the liberation and freedom
from the constraints of external forms of power. These independent forms of
empowerment consist of many different means of self-fulfillment and the
normative expression of individual creativity in the world.
Peace demands a dual ethos of tolerance and respect for
human differences in the world, and of moral responsibility to honor one's
obligations and the rights of others over one's own prerogatives of power. In
this sense, peace in the human world must await the realization of human
rights and equality on earth.
Blanket Copyright, Hugh M. Lewis, © 2005. Use of
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granted for purposes of research and non-profit instruction only.
Last Updated: 08/25/06