Franz Boas, Ph.D., Professor of Anthropology, Columbia University · 1928 · First edition (W. W. Norton & Company, New York, 1928); Archive.org DjVu text layer, identifier anthropologymode0000unse_b7z0 · Public Domain · uncorrected OCR — being verified against the scan
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THE INTERRELATION OF RACES
WE have seen that from a purely biological
point of view the concept of race unity breaks
down. The multitude of genealogical lines, the
diversity of individual and family types contained
in each race is so great that no race can be con-
sidered as a unit. Furthermore, similarities be-
tween neighboring races and, in regard to function,
even between distant races are so great that in-
dividuals cannot be assigned with certainty to one
group or another.
Nevertheless, race consciousness exists and we
have to investigate its source. It is customary to
speak of an instinctive race consciousness. Even
Romain Rolland says of it, “Ce vieux levain
d’antipathie instinctive, qui couve au fond des
cceurs de tous les hommes du Nord pour les
hommes du Midi.”
The feeling between Whites and Negroes in our
country is decidedly of this character. There is
an immediate feeling of contrast that is expressed
in the popular conviction of the superiority of the
White race. Very generally the feeling extends
even to cases in which the Negro admixture is very
slight and in which there is no certainty of the
racial position of the individual. Proof of this are
the numerous divorce suits based on alleged Negro
descent. In this case the popular belief in the
possible reversion of the offspring to a pure
Negro type may bea determinant. This considera-
tion does not enter in law suits instituted to set
aside adoption of children on account of their
racial descent; or in the difficulties experienced by
child-placing agencies which endeavor to find
homes for children of suspected Negro descent,—
no matter how little this may be expressed in their
outer appearance.
It is necessary to make clear to ourselves what
we mean when we speak of instinctive race con-
sciousness.
We have to inquire whether race consciousness
and race antipathies are truly instinctive or
whether they are established by habits developed
in childhood.
The fundamental characteristic of race con-
sciousness and race antipathy is the feeling that
we belong to a definite racial group. The results
which we have reached in regard to the lack of
clarity of the concept of race induces us to inquire
- whether these feelings are universal and whether
other types of groups develop analogous feelings
of contrast.
Race consciousness differs considerably in in-
tensity. In the United States, taken as a whole,
the feeling of aloofness between White and Negro
is strongest. On the Pacific coast it is locally al-
most equalled by the feeling of the Whites against
Asiatics. I have been told by those familiar with
conditions in Humboldt County, California, that
the White settlers will readily eat with Ne-
groes, but not with Indians. In general, feeling
of aversion to the Indian is rather slight. There
is even a marked tendency of individuals with
admixture of Indian blood to be proud of their
ancestry.
Race feeling between Whites, Negroes, and In-
dians in Brazil seems to be quite different from
what it is among ourselves. On the coast there is
a large Negro population. The admixture of In-
dian is also quite marked. The discrimination be-
tween these three races is very much less than it
is among ourselves, and the social obstacles for race
mixture or for social advancement are not marked.
Similar conditions prevail on the island of Santo
Domingo between Spaniards and Negroes. Per-
haps it would be too much to claim that in these
Cases race consciousness is nonexistent; it is cer-
tainly much less pronounced than among our-
selves.
If it is true that race antipathy among different
groups of mankind takes distinctive forms and ex-
presses itself with varying intensity, we may doubt
whether we are dealing with an instinctive phe-
nomenon.
It will be found advantageous to investigate
similar phentmena in the animal world. We know
the peculiar antipathies between certain animals,
such as dog and cat, horse and camel. These are
organically determined, although they may be in-
dividually overcome. They might be considered
analogous to the feeling between races if we had
the same instinctive hostility or fear between in-
dividuals of different human races; but this has
never been observed. On the contrary, under
favorable conditions the reaction seems to be one
of friendly curiosity.
Conditions analogous to those found in racial
groups occur in animal societies. Gregarious ani-
mals live either in open or in closed societies. Open
societies are those in which any outside individual
may join a herd. They are found among mam-
mals and birds, but particularly among fishes, in-
sects, and other lower animals. A swarm of
mosquitoes, a shoal of fish keep together but do not
exclude newcomers of the same species, some-
times even of other species. Herds of ruminants
are often organized under leaders but may not
exclude newcomers. ‘The behavior of animals
that occupy a definite area as their feeding ground
is quite different. They treat every newcomer as
an enemy and while he may succeed in gaining
admission after a number of combats, the first
endeavor of the herd is to drive away or to kill
the intruder. Many herds of monkeys are said to
behave in this way. Penguins on their breeding
places will drive away stray visitors, while admit-
ting their neighbors. The best known example is
that of the Pariah dogs of Oriental towns. The
dogs of one street will not admit one from another
street and the stranger is killed by them if he does
not beat a hasty retreat. The most perfect forms of
closed societies are found in the insect states. Ants
of the same hill recognize one another by the scent
of the hill and attack every strange ant. Even in-
sects of another species, if only they participate
in the scent of the particular hill, are welcomed.
Sameness of species does not decide the attitude to-
wards the individual. Participation in the most
characteristic trait of the individual hill is the
feature by which membership in the group is de-
termined.
The groups do not need to be related by descent.
They may be thrown together by accident. Never-
theless, according to the habits of the species, they
will form a closed society.
In primitive human society every tribe forms a
closed society. It behaves like the Oriental Pariah
wey
' In the early days of mankind our earth was
thinly settled. Small groups of human beings were
scattered here and there; the members of each
horde were one in speech, one in customs, one in
superstitious beliefs. In their habitat they roamed
from place to place, following the game that
furnished their subsistence, or digging roots and
picking the fruits of trees and bushes to allay the
pangs of hunger. They were held together by the
strong bands of habit. The gain of one member
of the horde was the gain of the whole group, the
loss and harm done to one was loss and harm to
the whole community. No one had fundamental
interests at stake that were not also the interests of
his fellows.
Beyond the limits of the hunting grounds lived
other groups, different in speech, different in cus-
toms, perhaps even different in appearance, whose
very existence was a source of danger. They
preyed upon the game, they threatened inroads
upon the harvest of roots and fruits. They acted
in a different manner; their reasoning and feeling
were unintelligible; they had no part in the inter-
ests of the horde. Thus they stood opposed to it
as beings of another kind, with whom there could
_be no community of interest. To harm them, if
possible to annihilate them, was a self-evident act
of self-preservation.
Thus the most primitive form of society pre-
sents to us the picture of continuous strife. The
hand of each member of one horde was raised
against each member of all other hordes. Always
on the alert to protect himself and his kindred,
man considered it an act of high merit to kill the
stranger.
The tendency to form closed societies is not by
any means confined to primitive tribes. It exists
to a marked extent in our own civilization. Until
quite recent times, and in many cases even now,
the old nobility formed a closed society. The
Patricians and Plebeians, Greeks and Barbarians,
the gangs of our streets, Mohametans and Infi-
dels,—and our own modern nations are in this
sense closed societies that cannot exist without
antagonisms.
The principles that hold societies together vary
enormously, but common to all of them is the
feeling of antagonism against other parallel
groups.
The racial grouping differs in one respect from
‘the societies here enumerated. While the position
of an individual as a member of one of the socially
determined groups is not evident, it is apparent
when the grouping is made according to bodily
appearance. If the belief should prevail, as it
once did, that all red-haired individuals have an
undesirable character, they would at once be so-
cially segregated and no red-haired person could
escape from his class) The Negro who may at
once be recognized by his bodily build is auto-
matically placed in his class and not one of them
can escape from the effect of being excluded from
a closed group.
When individuals are to be herded together in
a closed group the dominant group may proscribe
for them a distinguishing symbol,—like the garb
of the Medieval Jews or the stripes of the con-
vict,—so that each individual who may otherwise
have no distinguishing characteristic, may at
once be assigned to his group and treated accord-
ingly.
The assignment to a closed group may also be
effected by a classifying name, like the term Dago
for Italians which is intended to evoke the thought
of all the supposed characteristics that are with-
out reflection ascribed to all the members of the
nation. Perhaps one of the most striking illustra-
tions of this tendency in the present life of the
United States is the assignment of anyone with a
Jewish name to an undesirable group whose mem-
bers are, according to the fancy of the owner, not
allowed to dwell in certain buildings, not admit-
ted in hotels or clubs and are in other ways dis-
_criminated against by the unthinking, who can see
in the individual solely the representative of a
class.
We have seen that from a biological point of ,
view there is no reason for drawing a clean-cut
line between races, because the lines of descent in
each are physiologically and psychologically di-
verse, and because functionally similar lines occur
in all races.
The formation of the racial groups in our midst \
must be understood on a social basis. In a com-
munity comprising two distinct types which are
socially clearly separated, the social grouping is
reénforced by the outer appearance of the indi-
viduals and each is at once and automatically as-
signed to his own group. In other communities,—
as among Mohametans or in Brazil,—where the
social and racial groupings do not coincide, the
result is different. The socially coherent groups
are racially not uniform. Hence the assignment
of an individual to a racial group does not develop
as easily, the less so the more equal the groups in
their social composition.
If an instinctive race antipathy existed it would
find expression in sexual aversion. The free inter-
mingling of slave owners with their female slaves
and the resulting striking decrease in the number
of full-blood Negroes is ample proof of the ab-
sence of any sexual antipathy. The rarity of the
reverse intermixture, that of male Negroes and
female Whites, can be fully understood on the basis
of social conditions. In view of the behavior of
the male White and of the forms of mixture in
other societies it does not seem likely that it is re-
ducible to sexual antipathy. The white master
sought his colored mates who had little power to
resist him. The colored slave was in an entirely
different position towards his mistress and to other
white women.
The intermingling of Indian and White throws
an interesting light upon this subject. Owing to
other reasons the early intermingling between the
two races was also between White males and
Indian females. It was caused not by the relation
of master and slave woman but by the absence of
white women. The general development has been
such that Mestizo women—that is, those of Indian-
White descent—are liable to marry Whites. ‘Their
descendants gradually pass out of the Indian popu-
lation unless economic privileges, such as the right
to hold valuable lands belonging to the Indians,
serve as an attraction to the Indian community.
The men, on the other hand, are more liable to
marry Indian or Mestizo women and remain in
the tribe. The male descendants of Mestizo
women who no longer belong to a segregated group
marry freely among the Whites, while the male
descendants of Mestizo men are ordinarily not in
the same position.
There is no doubt that the strangeness of a
foreign racial type plays an important role in these
relations. The ideal of beauty of a person who is
growing up in an exclusively White society is
different from that of a Negro who lives in a
Negro society and the sharper the social division
between the groups, the later in life intimate so-
cial contacts occur, the greater also may be the
separation created by the differences of ideals of
form.
Here again the question arises whether these
influences would act in the same way if the groups
were socially not separated. We can find an an-
swer to this question solely by a consideration of
conditions in countries in which there is no pro-
nounced race feeling. It would seem that there
the attractiveness of forms has a much wider
range, and is not determined by pigmentation and
other racial traits alone. Aversion is not expressed
on racial lines but on the ground of the repulsive-
ness of other features. Preferences and aversions
differ individually.
Unfortunately these conditions cannot be proven
by actual numerical observations that would be
convincing. All we can give are the results of
general observations. ‘These are, however, so
striking that their validity seems well established.
Since the abolition of slavery the intermingling
of Negroes and Whites has taken a curious course.
Legitimate and illegitimate mating between
Whites and Negroes has undoubtedly decreased
and we find essentially marriages among Negroes
and Mulattoes. Dr. Melville J. Herskovits has
collected statistics on this subject. He found that,
on the average, dark individuals will marry those
of dark, though slightly lighter complexion, light
ones those of light, though slightly darker com-
plexion. ‘This indicates that there is a decided
preference in the mating of those of similar color,
—an expression of the transfer of our own race
feeling to the colored people who live among us
and participate in our culture. But, furthermore,
the darker man marries on the average a lighter
woman. Since there is no difference in the pig-
mentation of the two sexes this indicates a prefer-
ence on the part of the men,—another manifesta-
tion of the adoption of our valuations by the
Negroes.
The effect of this selective process, if it con-
tinues for many generations, will be the passing of
many of the lightest men out of the Negro com-
munity. Either they die as bachelors or they are
merged in the general population. For the re-
mainder it must inevitably lead to a darkening of
the whole colored population, for the daughters of
each generation, whose fathers are dark and whose
. mothers are light, will be darker than their
\
mothers. When they again become mothers, their
children will be still darker, provided the same
conditions continue. Thus there will come to be
a constantly increasing intensity of Negro charac-
teristics and a sharper contrast between the two
principal races of the country.
During the time of slavery the condition was the
reverse. On account of the numerous unions be-
tween White fathers and Negro mothers the new
generation was lighter than their mothers. A
constant lightening of the Negro population re-
sulted and hence a lessening of the racial contrast
without any modification of the descendants of
white females.
An evenly mixed population can result only if
the number of matings between males of one race
and females of the other is equal to that of matings
in the opposite direction. Otherwise the racial
type of the group descended in the female line
will be unstable.
When social divisions follow racial lines, as they
do among ourselves, the degree of difference be- .
tween racial forms is an important element in
establishing racial groupings and in accentuating
racial conflicts. From this point of view the
present tendency is most undesirable.
Under prevailing circumstances complete free-
dom of matrimonial union between the two races
ee
cannot be expected. ‘The causes that operate
against the unions of colored men and white
women are almost as potent as in the days of slav-
ery. Looking forward towards a lessening of the
intensity of race feeling an increase of unions of
white men and colored women would be desirable.
The present policy of many of the Southern States
tends to accentuate the lack of homogeneity of our
nation.
I have tried to show in the preceding pages that
the biological arguments that have been brought
forward against race crossing are not convincing.
Equally good reasons can be given in favor of
crossings of the best elements of various races, and
for closely related groups these arguments seem
incontrovertible.
If we were to select the most intelligent, imagi-
native, energetic and emotionally stable third of
mankind, all races would be represented. The
mere fact that a person is a healthy European, or
a blond European would not be proof that he
would belong to this élite. Nobody has ever given
proof that the mixed descendants of such a select
group would be inferior.
If a selection of immigrants is to be made it:
should never be made by a rough racial classifica-
tion, but by a careful examination of the individual
-and of his family history.
No matter how weak the case for racial purity
may be, we cannot hope easily to overcome its
appeal. The individual is always ready to subordi-
nate himself under the group to which he belongs.
He expresses his feeling of solidarity by an
idealization of his group and by an emotional de-.
sire for its perpetuation. As long as the social *
groups are racial groups we shall also encounter
the desire for racial purity. When considerable
racial differences are encountered in the same
social group, they are disregarded unless there are
introduced artificial ideals of bodily form that
tend to establish new social divisions. This is
occurring in some social groups in Europe and
America who idealize the blond, blue-eyed
type.
It follows that the “instinctive” race antipathy
can be broken down, if we succeed in creating
among young children social groups that are not
divided according to the principle of race and
which have principles of cohesion that weld the
group into a whole. It will not be easy to estab-
lish such groups under the pressure of present
popular feeling. Nevertheless, cultural codpera-
tion cannot be reached without it.
Those who fear miscegenation, which I, per-
sonally, do not consider as in any way dangerous,—
not for the White race or for the Negro, or for
Lege 5
mankind—may console themselves with their be-
lief in a race consciousness, which would manifest
itself in selective mating. ‘Then matters would
remain as they are.
Chapter IV
NATIONALISM
THERE are two kinds of nationalism, one of na-
tions, the other of nationalities. The two terms
“nation” and “nationality” do not coincide. A
nation is in most cases a nationality that is unified
in political and economic organization; although
there are also nations that embrace several nation-
alities, like Czecho-Slovakia and Poland.
A fete ee is a group of people alike in
speech, culture and in most cases representing no
fundamental racial contrasts. A nationality may
be divided and constitute several nations, like the
Spaniards of Central America, or the Italians
before the unification of Italy; or they may be in-
cluded in several nations, like the Germans in
Germany, Austria, France, Poland, Czecho-Slo-
vakia and Italy.
There is, therefore, a nationalism of nations
which feel and act as a unit regardless of the com-
ponent nationalities; and a nationalism of nation-
alities which strive for unity in political and
economic organization.
There is a curious vagueness in the use of the
terms “race” and “nation.” In the terminology of
the U. S. Immigration Commission English,
French, German, and Russian are designated as
races. In common parlance also national groups
are identified with racial strains. The blonde rep-
resent the Teutons; the short and dark, Spaniards
or Italians; the heavy built brunette, the Slavs.
On account of the peculiar position of the blond
type, it has been preéminently identified with the
so-called Aryan race. As is well known, most of
the languages of Europe are derived from one
ancient form of speech,—the parental Aryan lan-
guage. Slavic, Teutonic, and Romance languages
are the most important modern divisions of this
group in Europe, to which Greek, Celtic, Lithua-
nian, and Albanian also belong. Among European
languages, only Finnish and its relatives on the
Baltic; Magyar, Turkish, and Basque, do not be-
long to this extended group. Aryan languages are
spoken by people of the most diverse racial types;
nevertheless there are scientists who try to identify
the blond North European with the ancient, pure
Aryan, and who claim for the race preéminent
hereditary gifts, because the people who at present
and in our concept are the leaders of the world
speak Aryan languages.
Scientific proof of these contentions cannot be
given. They are rather fancies of North Euro-
.pean dreamers, based on the complaisant love of
the achievements of the blondes. No one has ever
proved that all the Aryans of the earliest times
were blondes, or that people speaking other lan-
guages may not have been blonde, too; and nobody
would be able to show that the great achievements
of mankind were due to blond thinkers. On the
contrary, the people to whom we are indebted for
the basic advance of civilization belong to the
dark-complexioned human types of the Orient, and
not to our blond ancestors.
How deep and emotional a hold this idea has in
the minds of some scientists appears when some
investigators try to prove that all the achievements
of Greece and Italy are due to the blond immi-
grants who reached these countries before the
beginning of the historic era, or that Christ can-
not have been a Jew by descent, but must have
been an Aryan. The presence of a blond element
in these countries does not prove that the cultural
achievements were due to it. We might say with
equal justice that the rise of North European civi-
lization did not begin until South and Central
European blood became intermingled with that
of the North European.
The idea of the great blond Aryan, the leader
of mankind, is the result of self-admiration that
emotional thinkers have tried to sustain by imagi-
native reasoning. It has no foundation in ob-
served fact.
This, however, does not decrease the emotional
value of the fiction that has taken hold of the mind
wherever the Teutonic, German, or Anglo-Saxon
type,—however it may be called,—prevails, or
where the Italian “race” glories in its past great-
ness and virtue.
All over Europe people believe in their racial
purity and in the possession of qualities that make
them superior to all others; while it is assumed
that the mixed, “mongrel” races are doomed to
permanent inferiority; and where there is unde-
niable mixture the ideal type is admonished to see
to it that it is not swamped by so-called inferior
types and that it preserve its purity.
This notion prevails among ourselves with equal
force, for we are haunted by fear of the ominous
influx of “inferior” races from eastern Europe,
of the mongrelization of the American people by
intermixture between the Northwest European
and other European types.
Inferior by heredity? No. Socially different?
Yes, on account of the environment in which they
have lived, and therefore different from ourselves,
and not easily subject to change provided they are
allowed to cluster together indefinitely.
Scientific investigation does not countenance the
assumption that in any one part of Europe a people
of pure descent or of a pure racial type is found,
and careful inquiry has failed completely to reveal
any inferiority of mixed European types.
In our thoughts the local racial types of Europe +
have been identified with modern nations, and
thus the supposed hereditary characteristics of the
races have been confused with national charac-
teristics. An identification of racial type, of lan-
guage, and of nationality has been made, that has
gained an exceedingly strong hold on our imagi-
nation. In vain sober scientific thought has remon-
strated against this identification; the idea is too
firmly rooted. Even if it is true that the blond
type is found at present preéminently among Teu-
tonic people, it is not confined to them alone.
Among the Finns, Poles, French, North Italians,
not to speak of the North African Berbers and the
Kurds of western Asia, there are individuals of
this type. The heavy-set, darker East European
type is common to many of the Slavic peoples of
eastern Europe, to the Germans of Austria and
southern Germany, to the North Italians, and to
the French of the Alps and of central France.
The Mediterranean type is spread widely over
Spain, Italy, Greece, and the coast of Asia Minor,
without regard to national boundaries. Other
local types may be readily distinguished, if we
take into consideration other differences in form.
These are also confined to definite territories.
In western Europe, types are on the whole dis-
tributed in strata that follow one another from
north to south,—in the north the blond, in the
center a darker, short-headed type, in the south the
slightly built Mediterranean.
National boundaries in central Europe, on the
other hand, run north and south: and so we find
many individuals in northern France, Belgium,
Holland, Germany and northwestern Russia simi-
lar in type and descent; many of the central
French, South Germans, Swiss, North Italians,
Austrians, Servians and central Russians, belong-
ing to similar varieties of man; and also persons in
southern France, closely related to the types of the
eastern and western Mediterranean area.
The relation of German and Slav is instructive.
During the period of Teutonic migrations, in the
first few centuries of our era, the Slavs settled in
the region from which Teutonic tribes had moved
away. They occupied the whole of what is now
eastern Germany, but the population seems to have
been sparse. In the Middle Ages, with the growth
of the German Empire, a slow backward move-
ment set in. Germans settled as colonists in Slavic
territory, and by degrees German speech prevailed
over the Slavic and a population of mixed descent
developed. In Germany survivals of the gradual
process may be found in a remote locality where
Slavic speech still persists.
' As by contact with the more advanced Germans
the cultural and economic conditions of the Slavs
improved and their numbers and their wealth in-
creased, their resistance to Germanization became
greater and greater,—earliest among the Czechs
and Poles, later in the other Slavic groups. Later
on, through a similar process, a mixed population
of Poles, Lithuanians and Russians originated
farther to the east.
This process has led to the present distribution -
of languages, which expresses a fossilization of
German colonization in the east, and illustrates in
a most striking way the penetration of peoples.”
Poland and part of Russia, Slavonic and Magyar
territories are interspersed with small German
settlements, which are the more sparse and scat-
tered the farther east they are located, the more
continuous the nearer they lie to Germany,—at
least until the recent systematic persecution of
Germans in Poland.
With the increased economic and cultural
strength of the Slav, the German lost his ability
to impose his mode of life upon him, and with it
his power to assimilate the numerically stronger
people in its own home. But by blood all these
people, no matter what their speech, are the same.
A process analogous to the medieval Germaniza-
tion of Slavic tribes may at present be observed in
Mexico, where Indian speech and culture give
way to the Spanish. Each town forms a center
of Spanish speech which, owing to the economic
and cultural strength of the town, spreads over the
surrounding country.
The French Huguenots who escaped from re-
ligious persecution and settled in Germany have
been completely assimilated, although the French
school in which their children were educated is
still in existence as a French gymnasium. Alsa-
tians who migrated to Paris have become French
in language and spirit; Germans have been ab-
sorbed by Russians; the Swedish nobility counts
in their number many descendants of the nobility
of foreign countries. An analysis of the descent
of the population of every part of Europe proves
that intermingling has been going on for long
periods.
The movements of tribes in prehistoric times
and during antiquity also illustrate the ways in
which different strains became mixed: the Doric
migration into Greece, the movements of the Kelts
into Spain, Italy and eastward as far as Asia
Minor; the Teutonic migrations which swept
through Europe from the Black Sea into Italy,
France, Spain and on into Africa; the invasion of
the Balkan Peninsula by Slavs, and their extension
over eastern Russia and into Siberia; Pheenician,
Greek and Roman colonization; the roving Nor-
mans; the expansion of the Arabs; the Crusades,
are a few of the important events that have con-
tributed to the er eae of the European
population.
In every single nationality of Europe the various
elements of the continental population are repre-
sented. Nationality has only the slightest relation .
to racial descent. The so-called “racial” antipa-
thies are feelings that have grown up on another
basis and have been given a fictitious racial inter-
pretation.
This claim may seem to be contradicted by the
readiness with which we recognize individuals,
according to their outer appearance, as members of
certain nationalities. These identifications, which
are far from certain, are based only in part on the
essential elements of the form of the body, such as
hair and eye color, face form and stature. We are
led much more by the mannerisms of wearing hair
and beard, and by the characteristic expressions
and motions of the body, which are determined
not so much by hereditary causes as by habit. The
latter are more impressive than the former; and
among the nations of Europe no fundamental
traits of the body occur that belong to one to the
exclusion of the others. It is a common experience
that Americans of European descent, French,
Italian or German, are recognized as Americans,
notwithstanding their pure descent and solely on
account of their appearance and habits.
It is clear that the term race, as commonly used, /
is only a disguise of nationality which has little to
do with racial descent; and that the interracial
relations are based on national enmities or friend-
ships, not on racial antipathies or sympathies.
If community of racial descent is not the basis —
of nationality, is it community of language?
When we glance at the national aspirations that
have characterized a large part of the nineteenth
century, community of language might seem to be
the background of national life. It touches the
most sympathetic chords in our hearts. Italians
worked for the overthrow of the small local and
great foreign interests that were opposed to the
national unity of all Italian-speaking people.
German patriots strove and will strive for the
federation of the German-speaking people in one
empire. The struggles in the Balkans are largely
due to a desire for national independence accord-
ing to the limits of speech. The Poles have for
more than a century longed for a reéstablishment
of their state which is to embrace all those of
Polish tongue.
It is, however, not very long that the bonds of
language have been felt so intensely. Language
establishes a basis of mutual understanding on
which a community of interests may arise. The
pleasure of hearing one’s own tongue spoken in
a foreign country creates at once between its
speakers a feeling of comradeship that is quite real,
and strong in proportion to the smallness of the
number of speakers of the idiom. The necessity
of easy communication between the members of
one nation has also led generally to the endeavor
to make one language the ruling language through-
out the whole state. When there is a great differ-
ence of languages, as in the former Austria-Hun-
gary, the national unity is liable to be feeble.
Unity of language is more an idealized concept
than a real bond. Notwithstanding unity of lan-
guage severe internal conflicts may arise that over-
shadow the feeling for national unity. Civil wars
that may lead to the breaking up of nations may
arise and the feeling for national unity may be
severely restricted by division into classes, as in
medieval Europe; or in the Greek cities; or by di-
visions on racial lines, as between Negroes and
Whites in the United States. Politically Negroes
and Whites are members of the same nation, and
a similar kind of nationalism pervades both groups.
Still) among many citizens of our country the
claim that Negroes and Whites have the same
nationality might provoke lively protests.
Unity of language is more an ideal than a real
bond; not only that divergence of dialects makes
communication difficult, but community of thought
among the members of different social classes is
also so slight that no communication of deeper
thought and feeling is possible. The Provengale
and the North French, the Bavarian and the West-
phalian peasant, the Sicilian and the Florentine are
hopelessly divided, owing to differences of lan-
guage. Unity is found in the educated groups that
share the same language and the same emotional
reactions. In many ways the educated Americans,
Englishmen, Frenchmen, Germans, Italians, Span-
iards, and Russians have more in common than
each has with the uneducated classes of his own
nation.
Unity of language does not comprise the whole
of nationalism, for no less ardent is the patriotism
of trilingual Switzerland. Even here in America
we see that the bond of tongue is not the only one.
Else we should feel that there is no reason for a
division between Canada and the United States,
and that the political ties between western Canada
and French Quebec must be artificial.
Neither the bonds of blood nor those of lan-
guage alone make a nation. It is rather the com-
munity of emotional life that rises from our every-
day habits, from the forms of thoughts, feelings,
and actions, which constitute the medium in which
every individual can unfold freely his activities.
An interesting phase of national life is develop-
ing in Russia. While the policy of the Czarist
government consisted in the forcible suppression of
all non-Russian speech, even of local dialects, the
' Soviet Republic has adopted the policy of protect-
ing the right of every group to their own language,
trusting in the bond of a great, radical economic
experiment to unite all the people.
Language and nation are so often identified, be-
cause we feel that among a people that uses the
same language every one can find the widest field
for unrestricted activity.
Added to this is the consciousness that political
unity gives increased power which makes it pos-
sible to emphasize the interests of the citizen as
opposed to those of the foreigner.
These feelings combine to create the feeling for
the existence of a national unity. Nevertheless it
is. perfectly clear that there is no individual, nor
any group of individuals, that represents the na-
tional ideal. It is rather an abstraction based on
the current forms of thought, feeling, and action,
—an abstraction of high emotional value, enhanced
by the consciousness of political power.
It is well to bear in mind that nationality is not
necessarily based on unity of speech; for when
the same type of cultural ideals prevails in a poly-
glottal area, in which each group is too weak to
give to the individual a free field of action, this can
be attained only by the development of a union of
the independent groups.
For the full development of his faculties, the
individual needs the widest possible field in whieh
to live and act according to his modes of thought
NATIONALISM gt
and inner feeling. Since, in most cases, the oppor-
tunity is given among a group that possesses unity
of speech, we feel full sympathy with the intense
desire to throw down the artificial barriers of
small political units. This process has charac-
terized the development of modern nations.
When, however, these limits are overstepped,'
and a fictitious racial or alleged national unit is
set up that has no existence in actual conditions,
the free unfolding of the mind, for which we are
striving, is liable to become an excuse for ambi-
tious lust for power. When France dreamed of a
union of all Latin people in a Pan-Latin union
under her leadership, the legitimate limits of
natural development were lost sight of for the sake
of national ambition. When Russia promoted a
Pan-Slavistic propaganda among the diverse
peoples, solely on the ground that the Slavs are
linguistically related, and assumed a fictitious
common culture and racial origin, the actual use-
fulness of the nationalistic idea was lost sight of,
and it was made the cover for the desire of im-
perialistic expansion.
There is no doubt that the idea of nationality has
been a creative force, making possible the fuller
development of powers by widening the field of
individual activity, and by setting definite ideals to
large codperating masses; but we feel with Fichte'
and Mazzini that the political power of a nation
=~
is important only when the national unit is the
carrier of ideals that are of value to mankind.
Together with the positive, creative side of
nationalism there has developed everywhere an
aggressive intolerance of foreign forms of
thought that can be satisfied only by the strongest
emphasis laid upon the value and interest of one
national unit against all others.
On a larger scale the conditions are repeated now
that less than a century ago prevented the ready
formation of modern nations. ‘The narrow-
minded local interests of cities and other small
political units resisted unification,or federation on
account of the supposed conflicts between their in-
terests and ideals and those of other units of
comparable size. Governmental organization
strengthened the tendency to isolation, and the
unavoidable, ever-present desire of self-preserva-
tion of the existing order stood in the way of
amalgamation. It was only after long years of
agitation and of bloody struggle that the larger
idea prevailed.
Those of us who recognize in the realization of
national ideals a definite advance that has bene-
fited mankind cannot fail to see that the task be-
fore us at the present time is a repetition of the
process of nationalization on a larger scale; not
with a view to leveling down all local differences,
but with the avowed purpose of making them all
subserve the same end.
The federation of nations is the next necessary
step in the evolution of mankind.
It is the expansion of the fundamental idea
underlying the organization of the United States
of Switzerland, and of Germany. The weakness
of the League of Nations and of the modern peace
movements lies in this, that they are not sufficiently
clear and radical in their demands, for their logical
aim cannot be arbitration of disagreement, or
formal outlawing of war. It must be the recogni-
tion of common aims of all the nations.
Such federation of nations is not an Utopian
idea, any more than nationalism was a century ago.
In fact, the whole development of mankind shows
that this condition is destined to come.
Fundamentally, the nation must be considered a
closed society like those previously discussed. The
differentiation between citizen and alien is not so
intense as in the closed primitive horde, but it
exists.
It would be instructive to follow in detail the
development of modern nations from tribal units
that considered every alien an enemy who must
be slain, but we can only imagine the course of the
gradual changes that have taken place.
Human inventions improved. The herd of
hunters and food-gatherers learned the art of bet-
ter providing for their needs. They stored up food
and thus provided for the future. With the greater
regularity of the food supply and a decreased fre-
quency of periods of starvation the number of
members of the community increased. Weaker
hordes, which still followed the older methods of
hunting and food gathering, were exterminated or,
profiting by the experience of their neighbors,
acquired new arts and also increased in num-
bers. Thus the groups that felt a solidarity among
themselves became larger and by the extermination
of small, isolated hordes, that remained in more
primitive conditions, the total number of groups
that stood opposed to one another became gradually
less.
It is impossible to trace with any degree of cer-
tainty the steps by which the homogeneous groups
became diversified and lost their unity, or by which
the opposing groups came into closer contact.
We may imagine that the widows and daughters
of the slain, who became a welcome prey of the
victors, established in time kindlier relations be-
tween their new masters and their kin; we may
imagine that the economic advantages of peace-
fully acquiring the coveted property of neighbors
rather than taking it by main force added their
share to establishing kindlier relations; we may at-
tribute an important influence to the weakening
of old bonds of unity due to the gradual dispersion
of the increasing number of members of the com-
munity. No matter how the next steps in politica]
development happened, we see that, with increas-
ing economic complexity, the hostility between the
groups becomes less. If it was right before to slay
every one outside of the small horde, we find now
tribes that have a limited community of interests,
that under normal conditions live at peace, al-
though enmities may spring up at slight provoca-
tion. The group that lives normally at peace has
much increased in size, and, while the feeling of
solidarity may have decreased, its scope has be-
come immensely wider.
A few examples of these conditions among the
primitive members of mankind will illustrate the
course of events. —The Bushmen of South Africa
are a people that is being exterminated, because
everybody’s hand is raised against them, and theirs
against everybody. Between the people of more
advanced type of culture that surround them their
small bands are being annihilated. They feel
themselves a group different from the rest of the
world, and for them there is no place in the life
of their neighbors. So a bitter war has been waged
against them for centuries and is on the point of
ending with their extinction. Similar conditions
prevail in parts of South America where the hunt-
ing Indian is outlawed like the wild South
* African.
Not so in more advanced types of society. Not-
withstanding the cruel wars between the natives of
our northern continent, there had been laid the
germs of larger political units among which peace
normally reigned. The fierce Iroquois created a
desert around themselves, but in their midst de-
veloped a large industrious community. The Zulu
of South Africa, the terror of the country, formed
a unit infinitely larger than any of those that
existed before in that region.
This process of enlargement of political units
and the reduction of the number of those that
were naturally at war with one another began in
the earliest times, and has continued without in-
terruption, almost always in the same direction.
Even though hostilities have broken out frequently
between parts of what had come to be a large po-
litical unit, the tendency for unification has in the
long run been more powerful than that of disinte-
gration. We see the powers at work in antiquity,
when the urban states of Greece and of Italy were
gradually welded into larger wholes; we see it
again at work after the breaking up of ancient
society in the development of new states from the
fragments of the old ones; and later on in the disap-
pearance of the small feudal states.
In the nations of our days in which law rules
supreme we find the greatest numbers of people
united in political units that the world has seen.
In these war is excluded, because all members are
subject to the same law, and excessive strains in
the community, that lead to internal bloodshed,
have decreased in frequency, although perhaps
not in violence, as long as the whole masses of the
people in a nation enjoy somewhat equal ad-
vantages.
From this point of view the breaking up of the
old empire of Austria-Hungary must be regretted.
Notwithstanding the stupid resistance of the gov-
erning class to the development of a confederation
rather than of a centralized empire, the force of
circumstances was operating in this direction.
Hungary had attained a status of independence and
the recognition of the rights of the South-Slavs was
coming. How much better would the peace-
makers have served humanity if they had created
a confederacy of language groups of equal rights
rather than a number of rival nations each of which
is bent only upon the attainment of its own selfish
ends!
Thus the history of mankind shows us the spec-
tacle of the grouping of man in units of ever-in-
creasing size that live together in peace, and that
are ready to go to war only with other groups out-
side of their own limits. Notwithstanding all tem-
porary revolutions and the shattering of larger
units for the time being, the progress in the direc-
tion of unification has been so regular and so
marked that we must needs conclude that the
tendencies which have swayed this development in
the past will govern our history in the future. The
concept of thoroughly integrated nations of the size
to which we are now accustomed would have been
just as inconceivable in earlier times of the history
of mankind as appears now the concept of unity
of interests of all the peoples of the world, or at
least of all those who share the same type of civi-
lization and are subject to the same economic con-
ditions. The historical development shows, how-
ever, that such a feeling of opposition of one group
towards another is solely an expression of existing
conditions, and does not by any means indicate
their permanence.
The forces that have kept political units apart
are manifold, but none of them has resisted the
attacks of changing culture. In modern times the
abhorrence of members of a strange horde which
sprang from the idea that they are specifically dif-
ferent is on the point of vanishing. We still find
it in the so-called race instincts of the Whites, as
opposed to the Negro and Asiatic, and in the anti-
Semitic movement, but in most of these cases rather
as an element of internal strife than as one that
leads to war. It is still active in the wars of ex-
termination that are waged against primitive
tribes, but these are nearly at an end, owing to the
approaching extinction of the weakest tribes.
In course of time differences in customs and be-
liefs, differences in form of government and social
structure, devotion to feudal lords or ruling dynas-
ties, opposing economic interests, diversity of lan-
guage, have been causes that separated distinct
communities and impelled them to take hostile at-
titudes towards one another.
Thus it appears that it is not any rational cause
that forms opposing groups, but solely the emo-
tional appeal of an idea that holds together the
members of each group and exalts their feeling of
solidarity and greatness to such an extent that com-
promises with other groups become impossible.
In this mental attitude we may readily recognize
the survival of the feeling of specific differences
between the hordes, transferred in part from the
feeling of physical differences to that of mental
differences. ‘The modern enthusiasm for race
superiority must be understood in this light. It is
the old feeling of specific differences between
social groups in a new guise.
Progress has been slow and halting in the direc-
tion of expanding the political units from hordes
to tribes, from tribes to small states, confederations,
and nations. The concept of the foreigner as a
specifically distinct being has been so modified
that we are beginning to see in him a member of
mankind.
Enlargement of circles of association, and
equalization of rights of distinct local communi-
ties have been so consistently the general tendency
of human development that we may look forward
confidently to their consummation.
It is obvious that the standards of ethical con-
duct must be quite distinct between those who have
grasped this ideal and those who still believe in
the preservation of the isolated nationality in op-
position to all others.
Once we recognize this truth we are brought
clearly face to face with those forces that will ulti-
mately abolish warfare as well as legislative con-
flicts between nations; that will put an end not
only to the wholesale slaughter of those represent-
ing distinct ideals, but also prevent the passage of
laws that favor the members of one nation at the
expense of all other members of mankind.
In order to form a fair judgment of the motives
of action of the leaders of nations at the present
time we should bear in mind that in all countries
the standards of national ethics, as cultivated by
means of national education, are opposed to this
wider view. Devotion to the nation is taught as
the paramount duty and is instilled into the minds
of the young in such a form that with it grows up
and is perpetuated the feeling of rivalry and of
hostility against all other nations.
Conditions in modern states are intelligible only
when we remember that by education patriotism is
NATIONALISM IOI
surrounded by a halo of sanctity and that national
self-preservation is considered the first duty. Often
the demands of national and international duty
are hopelessly at variance.
The interests of mankind are, therefore, ill
served if we try to instill into the minds of the
young a passionate desire for national power; if
we teach the preponderance of national interest
over human interest, aggressive nationalism rather
than national idealism, expansion rather than
inner development, admiration of warlike, heroic
deeds rather than of the object for which they are
performed.
CRIMINOLOGY
A WHOLE science has developed based on the
assumption of the existence of a biologically de-
termined criminal type and upon the hereditary
transmission of criminality. The Italian school
of criminologists led by C. Lombroso has en-
deavored to define the type of the criminal and the
physical characteristics of criminals addicted to
various types of crimes. A number of stigmata
have been established which, it was believed, char-
acterized a person as a criminal. If this theory
could be proved the treatment of criminals would
have been much simplified, for it would have been
possible to select all criminals before the commis-
sion of a crime and to protect society against them.
Unfortunately these extreme hopes have not been
fulfilled. Our previous considerations make it
plausible that they could not be fulfilled, because
the interrelation between gross bodily form and
mentality is not by any means close.
All that has been proved is that many criminals
are defective, not only mentally but also physically.
a os
It is, therefore, not surprising that anomalies that
accompany various types of defectiveness should
be found among them with greater frequency than
among the socially normal; but it does not follow
that the presence of any one of the stigmata de-
scribed by the Italian school would prove that a
person is a born criminal.
In many of the cases a careful statistical study
has shown that the alleged stigmata, such as ab-
sence of the lobe of the ear and irregularities in the
position of the teeth, are more frequent in local
noncriminal groups than among the criminals, so
that for this reason they cannot be considered as
significant. Neither is there any clear physio-
logical relation between the alleged stigmata and
social or even physical defects.
A most careful examination of the criminal
population has been made by C. Goring. His
general results are worth quoting. He says: “For
statistical evidence, one assertion can be dog-
matically made: It is, that the criminal is
differentiated by inferior stature, by defective in-
telligence and, to some extent, by his antisocial
proclivities; but that, apart from these broad dif-
ferences, there are no physical, mental or moral
characteristics peculiar to the inmates of English
prisons. The truths that have been overlooked are
that these deviations, described as significant of
criminality, are inevitable concomitants of inferior
stature and defective intelligence: both of which
are the differentia of the types of persons who are
selected for imprisonment.”
The conditions are the same as those previously
described. As it is impossible to assign an indi-
vidual according to his bodily form to a racial
group, if the groups overlap, so it is impossible to
recognize an individual by his bodily build as a
criminal. We may say that it is more likely that
a person physically and mentally defective will be-
come a criminal than one who is normal, but we
cannot say that he must be a criminal.
The very definition of the term “crime” proves
that no such intimate relation can exist. What was
a crime in times past is no longer a crime now.
Heresy was a crime punishable by death. Among
heretics were included many who were mentally
unbalanced and probably physically defective; but
men like Huss or Giordano Bruno were criminals
on account of their mental independence. George
Washington would have been a criminal, if the
English had caught him.
In foreign societies the concept of what consti-
tutes a crime may be even more different than it
has been at different periods among ourselves.
Where food is shared by all and property consists
solely of the necessities of life, such as clothing,
weapons, household utensils, small pilfering is all
but impossible, for the taking of food is not steal-
ing, food being freely shared by all. Where strict
laws of endogamy exist, what we call incest may be
proscribed. Where exogamy is found the laws of
incest extend over wider, or curiously selected
groups. Where vendetta is the law of the land
certain types of murder are a virtue, not a crime.
Where monogamy is the custom polygamy is a
criminal offense, while in other societies the re-
fusal to accept a number of mates may be so con-
sidered. Where sexual life is practically free
sexual crimes do not occur.
Under these conditions the criminal must be
defined as the person who habitually disregards
the laws of conduct proscribed by the society to
which he belongs. If we accept this definition we
must except those cases in which conduct contrary
to law is ceremonially permitted or proscribed.
This happens, for instance, among the Pueblo
Indians and in British Columbia in the case of
certain semi-priestly groups who have the privi-
lege of acting counter to the sacred rites of the
people and who are accordingly feared by the
profane crowd. The same is true in all cases of
prerogatives of social classes—as in the relation
between master and slave, when the slave is con-
sidered a chattel; or in prerogatives of feudal
lords.
With the differentiation of what constitutes a
crime the mental characteristics of the criminal
must also vary. The criminal who breaks through
the inhibitions developed by the habitual behavior
of the society to which he belongs is actuated by
a variety of motives. The breaking point de-
pends upon the drive that leads to action and the
strength of inhibition. Among two persons with
equal power of inhibition the starving pauper will
be led to theft by hunger; the well-to-do who is
deprived of his conveniences will succumb much
more readily, because the strain which for the
pauper would be insignificant is felt by him as
suffering. Such conditions may account for the
similar distribution of criminality in well-to-do
and poor social groups.
The problem of the heritability of criminality
as well as of other forms of social deficiency pre-
sents the same difficulties that are encountered in
all attempts to discriminate between organic and
environmental determination.
The definition of crime is so complex and so
variable, so entirely dependent upon social condi-
tions that criminality itself can hardly be consid-
ered as hereditary. It is, however, possible that
certain dispositions may be hereditary that lead
to acts that are in some cases considered as crimi-
nal. It has been proved that the criminal is, in
many respects, defective. If the deficiency is
hereditary, then a greater probability exists that
a defective individual belonging to a hereditary
line of defectives may become a criminal.
The investigation of families like the Kallikaks
has shown that there are strains in which crimi-
nality is very frequent. From a purely practical
point of view these data allow us to say that when
a person is a criminal or otherwise defective there
is a greater likelihood of finding criminals or
defectives in his family than among the relatives
of a person who is not a criminal.
The reason for this is easily understood if we
remember that the same is true for any trait that
occurs comparatively rarely and with unequal fre-
quency in different families. If in a preponder-
antly blond population a blonde is selected we
exclude all those families in which no blondes
occur and the average frequency of blondness in
the population thus selected will be considerable.
On the other hand, if we select a brunette indi-
vidual the whole mass of families that contain
brunette individuals will appear, and the average
frequency of blondness in the series thus selected
will be much lower. The same is true when we
select exceptionally short individuals. Then all
tall familes will be eliminated the more the higher
their average stature, and the series so selected
will contain an inordinately large number of
-short individuals. Conversely in the series of
familes selected as relatives of a tall person the
relative frequency of short ones will be much less.
If all families were equal in regard to the rela-
tive frequency of criminality, defects, blondness
or low stature—then the series selected as rela-
tives of criminals, defectives, blondes or short indi-
viduals would be the same as the series of rela-
tives of noncriminals, normals, brunette and tall
individuals. The greater frequency of crimi-
nality among relatives of criminals does not allow
us to deduce the laws of heredity of criminality,
unless the frequency distribution of criminality of
families is accurately known.
We have seen that the family lines constituting
a population differ among themselves. They dif-
fer also in regard to criminality and frequency of
defects. The questions to be answered are whether
these are environmentally determined or hereditary
and what the laws of heredity are.
The observations of Habit-Clinics for pre-
school children throw an interesting light upon
this problem. Although the statistical results of
these observations must be used with considerable
caution, the psychological analysis elucidates the
far-reaching influence of an unfavorable environ-
ment upon the behavior of physically weak sub-
jects and the development of antisocial tendencies
that may arise under stresses of a family situation
that makes for revolt against tyrannical authority
or creates in other ways serious antagonisms,
No less instructive are the observations of
psychoanalysis. While I am not inclined to fol-
low the intricate and, as it seems to me, arbitrary
reasonings of psychoanalysts, sufficient material
has been accumulated showing that under severe
Stresses, particularly after a sudden “trauma,”
weak individuals may develop abnormal mental
habits of the most varied kind.
The general evidence points to the conclusion
that the weak individual takes to antisocial acts
when the environmental stress that brings about
disregard of the laws of society is sufficiently acute.
The stronger the individual the greater the stress
that will be required.
C. Goring, in the investigation previously re-
ferred to, minimizes the environmental factor as
a determinant of criminality. He tries to prove
that all other social irregularities found among
criminals, such as lack of schooling or irregular
employment, or poverty are dependent upon lack
of intelligence. His argument is based on the
statistical interrelation between intelligence and
the various social defects. He determines the
average intelligence of a group by the relative
frequency of mental defectives. He assumes that
the greater their number the lower the average
intelligence. This is a doubtful procedure, be-
cause the range of variation in the groups does
not need to be the same. If, for instance, the
mentality of criminals were more variable than
that of noncriminals, they would have a larger
number of defectives even if they had the same
average intelligence. Social irregularities com-
bined with criminality are the more frequent the
greater the relative number of mental defectives.
The argument might also be reversed and we
might say that mental defects combined with
criminality are the more frequent the greater the
relative number of social irregularities, such as
lack of schooling or irregular employment. In
order to prove that organically determined intelli-
gence is the cause of both social irregularities and
criminality it would be necessary to show that
groups of individuals of the same intelligence,
taken at random from the total population, would
have the same relative frequency of criminality
regardless of other social defects, such as poverty,
lack of schooling or irregularity of employment.
Since we do not know the distribution of intelli-
gence in the total population the ratio of crimi-
nality cannot be determined and it cannot be
claimed that hereditary intelligence is the decisive
factor.
I believe, therefore, that the irrelevancy of en-
vironment as a factor producing criminality has
not been proved.
Many authors have tried to deduce from the
distribution of cases of criminality in family lines
that the tendency is inherited in a simple Men-
delian ratio. The infinite complexity of conditions
that bring an indvidual into the class of convicted
criminals does not make such a conclusion likely
and the number of cases that have been brought
forward is cutirely insufficient for a conclusive
proof. The actual statistical data indicate only
that in the population family lines differ in their
degree of criminality.
The assumption of a simple form of Mendelian
heredity, and that of the occurrence of much more
complex forms which include environmental fac-
tors lead to quite distinct practical results. In
the former case the occurrence of a single case of
criminality in a family and a knowledge of the
simple rules of hereditary transmission would
enable us to foretell how many individuals in
various family lines would be affected. In the
latter case prediction would be well-nigh impos-
sible, because the rules of heredity, although fol-
lowing fundamentally the same laws, would be so
varied that the hereditary characteristics of a sin-
gle family would not be known.
More important than this is the difficulty of
differentiation between environmental and heredi-
tary causes, for if a whole family is exposed to
the same deleterious conditions and a sufficient
organic weakness exists, the whole family may
become criminal, while under more fortunate con-
ditions it could withstand the social pressure to
which it is exposed.
Chapter VII
STABILITY OF CULTURE
AN isolated community that remains subject to
the same environmental conditions, and without
selective mating, becomes, after a number of
generations, stable in bodily form. As long as
there are no stimuli that modify the social struc-
ture and mental life the culture will also be fairly
permanent. Primitive, isolated tribes appear to
us and to themselves as stable, because under un-
disturbed conditions the processes of change of
culture are slow.
In the very earliest times of mankind culture
must have changed almost imperceptibly. The
history of man, of a being that made tools, goes
back maybe 150,000 years, more or less. The
tools belonging to this period are found buried in
the soil. They are stone implements of simple
form. For a period of no less than 30,000 years
the forms did not change. When we observe such
permanence among animals we explain it as an
expression of instinct. Objectively the toolmaking
- of man of this period seems like an instinctive trait
similar to the instincts of ants and bees. The repe-
tition of the same act without change, generation
after generation, gives the impression of a bio-
logically determined instinct. Still, we do not
know that such a view would be correct, because
we cannot tell in how far each generation learned
from its predecessors. Animals like birds and
mammals, act not only instinctively; they also learn
by example and imitation. It seems likely that
conditions were the same in early man.
The importance of the process of learning be-
comes more and more evident the nearer we ap-
proach the present period. The tools become
more differentiated. Not all localities show the
same forms, and it seems likely that if we could
examine the behavior of man in periods one
thousand years apart that changes would be dis-
covered.
At the end of the ice age the differentiation in
the forms of manufactured objects had come to
be as great as that found nowadays among primi-
tive tribes. There is no reason why we should
assume the life of the people who lived towards
the end of the ice age, the Magdaleniens, to have
been in any respect simpler than that of the modern
Eskimo.
With the beginning of the present geological
period the differentiation of local groups and of
activities in each group was considerable. Changes
which in the beginning required tens of thousands
of years, later thousands of years, occurred now in
centuries and brought about constantly increasing
multiplicity of forms.
With the approach of the historic period the
degree of stability of culture decreased still fur-
ther and in modern times changes are proceeding
with great rapidity, not only in material products
of our civilization but also in forms of thought.
Since earliest times the rapidity of change has
grown at an ever-increasing rate.
The rate of change in culture is by no means
uniform. We may observe in many instances
periods of comparative stability followed by others
of rapid modifications. The great Teutonic mi-
grations at the close of antiquity brought about
fundamental changes in culture and speech. They
were followed by periods of consolidation. The
Arab conquest of North Africa destroyed an old
civilization and new forms took its place. Assimi-
lation of culture may also be observed among
many primitive tribes, and, although we do not
know the rate of change, there is often strong in-
ternal evidence of a rapid adjustment to a new
level. In language the alternation between pe-
tiods of rapid change and comparative stability
may often be observed. The transition from
Anglo-Saxon and Norman to English was rapid.
The development of English since that time has
been rather slow. Similar periods of disturbance
have occurred in the development of modern
Persian.
The most striking example is presented by the
influence of European civilization upon primitive
cultures. When they do not completely disappear
a new adjustment is reached with great rapidity.
Examples are the Indians of Mexico and Peru,
or still more strikingly, the Negroes of the United
States during and since the time of slavery. In all
these cases outer influences broke the continuity
of development.
Notwithstanding the rapid changes in many as-
pects of our modern life we may observe in other
respects a marked stability. Conflicts between the
inertia of conservative tradition and the radicalism
of rapid change are characteristic of our civiliza-
tion.
We are wont to measure the ability of a race by
its cultural achievements which imply rapid
changes. Those races among whom the later
changes have been most rapid appear, therefore.
as most highly developed.
For these reasons it is important to study the
conditions that make for stability and for change;
and to know whether changes are organically or
culturally determined.
Behavior that is organically determined is called
instinctive. When the infant cries and smiles,
when later on it walks, its actions are instinctive in
this sense. Breathing, chewing, retiring from a
sudden assault against the senses, approach to-
wards desired objects are presumably organically
determined. ‘They do not need to be learned.
Most of these actions are indispensable for the
maintenance of life. Some, while useful, may
be modified or even suppressed with impunity.
Thus we may change our gait or learn to over-
come the reaction to fear. It is difficult to do so,
but not impossible. We can never account for
the reasons of this class of impulses that prompt
us to act. The stimulus is there and we react at
once.
On the ground of this experience we are inclined
to consider every type of behavior that is marked
by an immediate, involuntary reaction as instinc-
tive. This is an error, for habits imposed upon us
during infancy and childhood have the same
characteristics,
Most of our actions are culturally determined.
We must eat in order to live. Arctic man is
compelled by necessity to live on a meat diet; the
Hindu lives on vegetal food by choice.
That we walk on our legs is organically condi-
tioned. How we walk, our particular gait, de-
pends upon the forms of our shoes, the cut of our
clothing, the way we carry loads, the conformation
’ of the ground we tread. Peculiar forms of mo-
tion may be, in part, physiologically determined,
but many are due to imitation. They are repeated
so often that they become automatic. They come
to be the way in which we move “naturally.” The
response is as easy and as ready as an instinctive
action, and a change from the acquired habit to a
new one is equally difficult. When thoroughly
established the mental effect of an automatic action
is the same as that of an instinctive reaction.
In all these cases the faculty of developing a
certain motor habit is organically determined.
The particular form of movement is automatic,
acquired by constant, habitual use.
This distinction is particularly clear in the use
of language. The faculty of speech is organically
determined and should be called, therefore, in-
stinctive. However, what we speak is determined
solely by our environment. We acquire one lan-
guage or another, according to what we hear
spoken around us. We become accustomed to very
definite movements of lips, tongue and the whole
group of articulating organs. When we speak, we
are wholly unconscious of any of these movements
and equally of the structure of the language we
speak. We resent deviations in pronunciation and
in structure. We find it exceedingly difficult, if
not impossible, to acquire as adults complete
mastery of new articulations and new structures
such as are required in learning a foreign lan-
guage. Our linguistic habits are not instinctive.
They are automatic.
Our thoughts and our speech are accompanied
by muscular movements,—some people would even
say they are our thoughts. The kinds of move-
ments are not by any means the same everywhere.
The mobility of the Italian contrasts strikingly
with the restraint of the Englishman.
The human faculty of using tools is organically
determined. It is instinctive. This, however, does
not mean that the kind of tool developed is pre-
scribed by instinct. Even the slightest knowledge
of the development of tools proves that the special
forms characteristic of each area and period de-
pend upon tradition and are in no way organically
determined. The choice of material depends
partly upon environment, partly upon the state of
inventions. We use steel and other artificially
made materials; the African iron, others stone,
bone or shell. The forms of the working parts of
the implements depend upon the tasks they are to
perform, those of the handles upon our motor
habits.
The same is ordinarily true of our likes and
dislikes. We are organically capable of produc-
ing and enjoying music. What kind of music we
enjoy depends for most of us solely upon habit.
_ Our harmonies, rhythms and melodies are not of
the same kind as those enjoyed by the Siamese and
a mutual understanding, if it can be attained at all,
can be reached solely by long training.
Whatever is acquired in infancy and childhood
by unvarying habits becomes automatic.
All this implies that a culture replete with auto-
matically established actions is stable. Every indi-
vidual behaves according to the setting of the
culture in which he lives. When the uniformity
of automatic reaction is broken, the stability of
culture will be weakened or lost. Conformity and
stability are inseparably connected. Noncon-
formity breaks the force of tradition.
We are thus led to an investigation of the con-
ditions that make for conformity or noncon-
formity.
Conformity to instinctive activities is enforced
by our organic structure; conformity to automatic
actions by habit. The infant learns to speak by
imitation. During the first few years of life the
movement of larynx, tongue, roof of the mouth
and lips are gradually controlled and executed
with great accuracy and rapidity. If the child is
removed to a new environment in which another
language is spoken, before the movements of
articulation have become stable, and as long as a
certain effort in speech is still required, the move-
ments required by the new language are acquired
with perfect ease. For the adult a change from
one language to another is much more difficult.
The demands of everyday life compel him to use
speech, and the articulating organs follow the
automatic, fixed habits of his childhood. By imi-
tation certain modifications occur, but a complete
break with the early habits is extremely difficult,
for many well-nigh impossible, and probably in
no case quite perfect.
The same is true in regard to the movements of
the body. In childhood we acquire certain ways
of handling our bodies. If these movements have
become automatic it is almost impossible to change
to another style, because all the muscles are attuned
to act in a fixed way. To change one’s gait, to
acquire a new style of handwriting, to change the
play of the muscles of the face in response to emo-
tion is a task that can never be accomplished
satisfactorily.
What is true of the handling of the body is
equally true of mental processes. When we have
learned to think in definite ways it is exceedingly
difficult to break away and to follow new paths.
For a person who has never been accustomed as
a young child to restrain responses to emotions,
such as weeping or laughing, a transition to the
restraints cultivated among us will be difficult.
The teachings of earliest childhood remain for
most people the dogma of adult life, the truth of
which is never doubted. Recently the impor-
tance of the impressions of earliest childhood have
been emphasized again by psychoanalysts. What-
ever happens during the first five years of life sets
the pace for the reactions of the individual.
Habits established in this period become auto-
matic and will resist strongly any pressure re-
quiring change.
It would be saying too much to claim that these
habits are alone responsible for the reactions of
the individual. His bodily organization certainly
plays a part. This appears most clearly in the
case of pathological individuals or of those un-
usually gifted in one way or another; but the whole
population consists of individuals varying greatly
in bodily form and function, and since the
same forms and faculties occur in many groups,
the group differences must be due to habits that
determine behavior in adult life. Automatic
habits are one of the most important sources of
conservatism.
A few examples may illustrate the conditions
that fix our habits. The tools of tribes of different
periods or localities have definite forms so that an
expert can readily determine the provenience of
each object. In most cases the form is an expres-
sion of the manner of using the tool. A hand adze
with a long handle, or one held close to the cut-
ting blade; a draw knife or one used for cutting
away from the body; a pestle and a grinding stone
are adjusted to the kind of motion characteristic
of the tribe. For a person who is accustomed to
cut with a drawing knife, a knife handle not fitted
for this movement is unhandy.
The movements determined by the forms of
handles are sometimes very special and a change
to another form of handle is correspondingly diffi-
cult. A good example of this is the throwing
board of the Eskimo. The board serves to give a
greater impetus to a lance or a dart than the one
that can be given by the hand. It is, as it were,
an extension of the hand. The one end is held in
the hand. On the surface is a groove in which
the lance rests so that its butt end is supported at
the other end. When the arm swings forward in
the motion of throwing, the lance rests against the
far end of the board, which, on account of its
greater distance from the shoulder, moves more
swiftly and thus gives greater impetus to the
weapon. The accuracy with which the lance is
thrown depends upon the intimate familiarity of
the hand with the board, for the slightest variation
in its position modifies the flight of the weapon.
The forms of the throwing board differ consider-
ably from tribe to tribe. In Labrador and in the
region farther north it is broad and heavy, with
grip holds for thumb and fingers. In Alaska it is
slender with a grip arranged in quite a different
“manner. A hand accustomed to the wide board
would require considerable time to learn the use of
the narrower one. An implement of the same kind
occurs in Australia, but its form is fundamentally
different. I presume an Australian who would
try to use an Eskimo throwing board would fail
to hit his game.
The same is true of our modern tools. The
movements of the body are adjusted to the handle
of the tool. The handle was not changed until
machinery was introduced. The handle of the
plane looks as though it were adapted to the hand.
Its form has developed so as to facilitate the
movements which we use. If we should use a
different kind of movement for planing the form
of the handle would have to be different, too; but
the use of the handle that has been developed fixes
the habitual movements that we acquire.
Our posture may serve as another example. We
siton chairs. We like to have our backs supported
and our feet on the floor. The Indians do not find
this comfortable at all. They sit on the ground.
Some stretch their legs forward, others sideways.
Many squat down, bending the lower legs back-
ward and sitting on the ground between the feet.
For most adults, among ourselves, this position is
impossible.
The form of furniture depends upon our habit-
ual posture. Some people sleep on the back, others
on the side. When sleeping on the side it is con-
venient to support the head with a pillow. People
who sleep on the back find it convenient to support
the neck by a narrow rest while the shoulders rest
on the ground and the head is suspended. The
neck rest cannot be used when it is customary to
sleep on the side. Chairs, beds, tables and many
kinds of household utensils are thus determined
by our motor habits. They have developed as an
expression of these habits, but their use compels
every succeeding generation to follow the same
habits. Thus they tend to stabilize them and to
make them automatic.
The difficulty of changing forms dependent
upon well-established motor habits is well illus-
trated by the permanence of the keyboard of the
piano, which withstands all efforts at improve-
ment; or by the complexity of forms and inade-
quacy of the number of symbols of our alphabet,
which is hardly realized by most of those who
write and read.
The most automatic activity of man is his speech
and it is well worth while to inquire in how far
habitual speech influences our actions and, either
through our actions or directly, our thought. The
problem might also be so formulated that we ask
in how far does language control action and
thought, and in how far does our behavior control
language. Some aspects of this question have
‘been touched upon before (p. 55).
Language is so constituted that when new cul-
tural needs arise it will supply the forms that
express them. There is a large number of words
in our vocabulary that have arisen with new in-
ventions and new ideas that would be unintelligible
to our ancestors who lived two hundred years ago.
On the other hand, words no longer needed have
disappeared.
What is true of words is equally true of forms.
Many primitive languages are very definite in
expressing ideas. Locality, time and modality of
any statement are denoted accurately. An Indian
of Vancouver Island does not say “the man is
dead,” he would say “this man who has passed
away lies dead on the floor of this house.” He does
not, according to the form of his language, express
the idea “the man is dead” in generalized form.
It might seem that this is a defect in his language,
that he cannot form a generalized statement. As
a matter of fact he has no need of generalized
statements. He speaks to his fellow-men about
the specific events of everyday life. He does not
speak about abstract goodness, he speaks about the
goodness of a certain person and he has no call to
use the abstract term. The question is what hap-
pens when his culture changes and generalized
terms are needed. The history of our own lan-
guage shows clearly what does happen. We do
not mind forcing the language into new molds and
creating the forms that we require. If the philoso-
pher develops a new idea he forces the language
to yield devices that will adequately express his
ideas and if these take root the language follows
the lead thus given. A careful examination of
primitive languages shows that these possibilities
are always it:herent in their structure. When mis-
sionaries train natives to translate the Bible and
the Book of Prayer they compel them to do vio-
lence to the current forms; and it can always be
done. In this sense we may say that culture deter-
mines language.
Most instructive in this respect are those parts
of the vocabulary that express systems of classifi-
cation; most notably in the numerical system and
in the terminology of relationship.
All counting is based on a grouping of units.
We group by tens and do so automatically. Some
languages group by fives and combine four fives,—
that is the fingers and toes,—in one higher unit.
In English their terminology would be one, two,
three, four, five; one, two, three, four, five on the
other hand; one, two, three, four, five on the one
foot; one, two, three, four, five on the other foot;
and finally, for our twenty, a man. If I want to say
in such a language 973, I have to group my units not
in 9 times 10 times 10 (900) plus 7 times 10 (70)
plus 3, but in 2 times 20 times 20 (800) plus three
on the other hand (— 8) times 20 (160) plus three
on the one foot (13). In other words we cannot
count 973 units as 900+ 70+ 3. In the other
language 973 are counted as 2 X 400 plus (5 + 3)
times 20 plus (10+ 3). Every number is divided
in groups of units, multiples of twenty, of 400,
8,000 and so on. To acquire this new classifi-
cation automatically is an exceedingly difficult
process.
Our terms of relationship are based on a few
simple principles: generation, sex, direct descent
or agnatic line. My uncle is a person of the first
ascendant generation, male, agnatic line. Among
other people the principles may be quite different.
For instance, the difference between direct and
agnatic line may be disregarded, while the terms
may differ according to the sex of the speaker.
Thus a male calls his mother and all females of the
ascendant generation by one term, and also his
sons and nephews by a single term. ‘The concept
and emotional significance of our term mother
cannot persist in such a terminology. The adjust-
ment to the new concepts that make impossible
the customary automatic emotional reaction to
terms of relationship will also be exceedingly dif-
ficult.
In another way language sways the forms of our
thought. Every language has its own way of
classifying sense experience and inner life, and
thought is, to a certain extent, swayed by the asso-
ciations between words. To us activities like
breaking, tearing, folding may call forth the
ideas of the kind of things that we break, tear or
fold. In other languages the terms express with
such vigor the way in which these actions are
done, by pressure, by pulling, with the hand; or
the stiffness, hardness, form, pliability of the ob-
ject that the flow of ideas is determined in this
fashion.
More important than this is the emotional tone
of words. Particularly those words that are sym-
bols of groups of ideas to which we automatically
respond in definite ways have a fundamental value
in shaping our behavior. They function as a re-
lease for habitual actions. In our modern civiliza-
tions the words patriotism, democracy or autoc-
racy, liberty are of this class. The real content of
many of these is not important; important is their
emotional value. Liberty may be nonexistent, the
word-symbol will survive in all its power, al-
though the actual condition may be one of sub-
jection. The name democracy will induce people
to accept autocracy as long as the symbol is kept
intact. The vague concepts expressed by these
words are sufficient to excite the strongest reactions
that stabilize the cultural behavior of people, even
when the inner form of the culture undergoes con-
siderable changes that go unnoticed on account of
the preservation of the symbol.
Words are not the only symbols that influence
behavior in this manner. There are also many
objective symbols, such as the national flags or
the cross, or fixed literary and musical forms that
have attained the value of symbols, like the formal
prayers of various creeds, national songs and
anthems.
The conservative force of all of these rests on
their emotional effect.
A study of the behavior of man shows that
actions are on the whole more stable than thoughts.
The ease with which words change their meanings
while retaining their form which is produced by
movements of the articulating organs is one of the
many examples that may be adduced.
More striking examples are found in a variety
of cultural facts. In North America similar
rituals are performed over a wide area. The gen-
eral plan and most of the details are the same
among many tribes. They all do nearly the same
things. On the other hand, the significance of the
ritual differs considerably among various tribes.
The so-called Sun Dance, which is alike in plan
and the main features of its execution, serves in
one tribe as a prayer for success in war; by another
it is used as a pledge in prayers for recovery from
serious illness. It is also a means of preventing
disease.
The decorative art of the Plains Indians is an-
other excellent example. The designs used in
painting and embroidery are largely simple forms,
such as straight lines, triangles and rectangles.
Their composition also is so much alike among
many tribes that we must necessarily assume the
same origin for the forms. We look at the designs
as purely ornamental. To the Indian they have a
meaning, somewhat in the same way as we asso-
ciate a meaning with the flag and other national
or religious emblems. The meanings, the thoughts
connected with the design are very variable. An
isosceles triangle with short straight lines descend-
ing from its base suggests to one tribe a bear’s paw
with its long claws; to another a tent with the
plugs that hold down the cover; to a third a
mountain with springs at its foot; to a fourth a
rain cloud with descending rain. The meaning
changes according to the cultural interests of the
people; the form which is dependent upon their
industrial activities does not change.
The same observation may be made in the tales
of primitive people. Identical tales are told over
wide territories by people of fundamentally differ-
ent types of culture. The ideas that attach them-
selves to a tale depend upon cultural interests.
What is a sacred myth in one tribe is told for
amusement in another. If the interest of the peo-
-ple centers in the stars we may have the tale as a
star myth, if they are interested in animals it may
explain conditions in the animal world; if they
have at heart ceremonial life the tale will deal with
ceremonies.
Secondary explanations are also common in our
own civilization. We speak of some of these as
“survivals.” Many of the paraphernalia used by
European royalty or by the Church are sur-
vivals of early lines that have changed their
meaning.
Certain customs that have been transmitted to
our times have undergone fundamental changes in
meaning. We are inclined to explain them now
on a utilitarian basis. It has been claimed that
the Jews tabooed pork because it was recognized
that pork was injurious to health. Still we know
that the usage is parallel to food taboos that exist
all over the world and which are not founded on
hygienic considerations.
An analogous change is developing in regard to
Sunday. It is now considered a day of rest for
people to recuperate from the work of the week.
It originated as a holy day and is analogous to
unlucky days, or to days on which hostile tribes
meet peacefully for the purpose of barter.
Still more striking is the example of forbidden
marriages. We say that cousin marriages are
dangerous to the offspring. When the parents are
of healthy stock there is no danger. The wide
distribution of forbidden or proscribed cousin
STABILITY OF CULTURE ISI
marriages and their general setting proves that the
source of the custom must be looked for in forms
of social organization and religious belief, and
that by origin it has nothing to do with hygienic
considerations.
I think in most of these cases the action must
be considered as automatic. When an action is
raised into consciousness our rationalizing im-
pulses require a satisfying explanation and this
follows the prevailing pattern of thought.
While the interpretation of single actions may
thus undergo considerable changes while the ac-
tions themselves persist, mental life shows in other
ways a remarkable degree of stability while the
material culture and actions related to it may
become modified in many ways. Wherever there
is a strong, dominant trend of mind that pervades
the whole cultural life it may persist over long
periods and survive changes in mode of life.
This is most easily observed in one-sided cul-
tures characterized by a single controlling idea.
Excellent examples are found among the North
American Indians. The tribes of the Plains are
not only warlike, but the standing of each indi-
vidual is determined by his eminence in warfare.
His deeds of valor are the measure of his worth
and the thoughts of every man are forced in this
_direction. Public life is so entirely swayed by
an interest in war that nothing else counts for
~—
much. This attitude has held sway as long as
Indian tribal life continued unbroken and there
is no reason to assume that it is of recent
/Origin.
On the North Pacific Coast the importance of
hereditary social rank, to be maintained by the
display and lavish distribution of wealth, deter-
mines the behavior of the individual. It is the
ambition of every person to obtain high social
standing for himself, his family, or for the chief
of his family. Wealth is a necessary basis of social
eminence and the general tone of life is determined
by these ideas. They have even received a new
impetus since European civilization has intro-
duced new methods of acquiring wealth, notwith-
standing the disintegration of the social fabric.
No less instructive is the fundamental role
played by the idea of the sacredness of persons of
high rank, expressed particularly by the taboo of
their persons and of objects belonging to them,
that prevails practically all over Polynesia and
that must be an ancient trait of Polynesian cul-
ture.
European history also shows conclusively that
fundamental viewpoints once established are held
tenaciously. Changes develop slowly and against
strong resistance. The relation of the individual
to the Church may serve as an example. The
willing submission to Church authority which
characterized European and American life in
earlier times; the unhesitating acceptance of tra-
ditional dogma is giving way to individual inde-
pendence, but the transition has been slow and is
still vigorously resisted by the earlier attitude.
The ease with which changes of denominational
affiliation or complete break with the Church are
accepted were unthinkable for many centuries and
are even now resented by many.
The slow breaking up of feudalism and the
gradual disappearance of the privileges of royalty
and nobility are other pertinent examples.
The history of rationalism is equally instructive.
The endeavor to understand all processes as the
effects of known causes has led to the development
of modern science and has gradually expanded
over ever-widening fields. The rigid application
of the method demands the reduction of every
phenomenon to its cause. A purpose, a teleological
viewpoint, and accident are excluded. It was
probably one of the greatest attractions of the
Darwinian theory of natural selection that it sub-
stituted for a purposive explanation of the origin
of life forms a purely causal one.
The strength of the rationalistic viewpoint is
also manifested in the attitude of psychoanalysis
which refuses to accept any of our ordinary, every-
day actions as accidental, but demands an inner,
causal connection between all mental processes.
It would be an error to assume that the universal
application of rationalism is the final form of
thought, the ultimate result which our organism
is destined to reach. Opposition to its negation of
purpose, or its transformation of purpose into
cause and to its disregard of accident as influenc-
ing the individual phenomenon, is struggling for
recognition.
. The stability of a general trend of mind is likely
to be the greater, the greater the uniformity of
culture. In a complex culture, in which diverse
attitudes are found, the probability of change must
be much greater.
There is a negative effect of automatism, no less
important than the positive one which results in
the ease of performance.
Any action that differs from those performed by
us habitually strikes us immediately as ridiculous
or objectionable, according to the emotional tone
that accompanies it. Often deviations from auto-.
matic actions are strongly resented. A dog taught
to give his hind paw instead of the front paw
excites us to laughter. Formal dress worn at times
when the conventions do not allow it seems ridicu-
lous. So does the dress that was once fashionable
but that has gone out of use. We need only think
of the hoop skirt of the middle of the last century’
or of the bright colors of man’s dress and the
impression they would create to-day. We must
-
also realize the resistance that we ourselves have
to appearing in an inappropriate costume.
More serious are the resistances in matters that
evoke stronger emotional reactions. Table man-
ners are a good example. Most of us are exceed-
ingly sensitive to a breach of good table manners.
There are many tribes and people that do not
know the use of the fork and who dip into the
dish with their fingers. We feel this is disgusting
because we are accustomed to the use of fork and
knife. We are accustomed to eat quietly. Among
some Indian tribes it is discourteous not to smack
one’s lips, the sign of enjoying one’s food. What
is nauseating to us is proper to them.
Still more striking is our reaction to breaches of
modesty. We have ourselves witnessed a marked
change in regard to what is considered modest,
what immodest. A comparative study shows that
modesty is found the world over, but that the ideas
of what is modest and what immodest vary incred-
ibly. Thirty years ago woman’s dress of to-day
would have been immodest. South African
Negroes greet a person of high rank by turning the
back and bowing away from him. Some South
American Indians consider it immodest to eat in
view of other people. Whatever the form of
modest behavior may be, a breach of etiquette is
always strongly resented.
This is characteristic of all forms of automatic
‘
behavior. The performance of an automatic ‘\
action is accompanied by the lowest degree of
consciousness. ‘To witness an action contrary to
our automatic behavior excites at once intense
attention and the strongest resistances must be
overcome if we are required to perform such an
action. Where motor habits are concerned the
resistance is based on the difficulty of acquiring
new habits, which is the greater the older we are,
perhaps less on account of growing inadaptability
than for the reason that we are constantly required
to act and have no time to adjust ourselves to new
ways. In trifling matters the resistance may take
the form of fear of ridicule, in more serious ones
of social criticism. But it is not only the fear of
the outer world that determines the resistance, it
rests equally in our own unwillingness to change,
in our thorough disapprobation of the uncon-
ventional.
Intolerance is often, if not always, based on the
strength of automatic reactions and upon the feel-
ing of intense displeasure felt in acts opposed to
our own automatism. The apparent fanaticism
exhibited in the persecution of heretics must be
explained in this manner. At a time when the
dogma taught by the Church was imposed upon
each individual so intensely that it became an auto-
matic part of his thought and action, it was accom-
panied by a strong feeling of opposition, of hos-
STABILITY OF CULTURE ply
tility to any one who did not participate in this
feeling. The term fanaticism does not quite cor-
rectly express the attitude of the Inquisition. Its
psychological basis was rather the impossibility of
changing a habit of thought that had become auto-
matic and the consequent impossibility of follow-
ing new lines of thought, which, for this very
reason, seemed antisocial; that is, criminal.
We have a similar spectacle in the present con-
flict between nationalism and internationalism
with their mutual intolerance.
Even in science a similar intolerance may be
observed in the struggle of opposing theories and
in the difficulty of breaking down traditional
common viewpoints.
The example of medieval orthodoxy proves
that the uniformity of automatic reaction of the
whole society is one of the strongest forces making
for stability. When all react in the same way it
becomes difficult for an individual to break away
from the common habits.
This is strikingly illustrated by the contrast be-
tween the culture of primitive tribes and our
modern civilization. Our society is not uniform.
Among us even the best educated cannot partici-
pate in our whole civilization. Among primitive
tribes the differences in occupations, interests and
knowledge are comparatively slight. Every indi-
vidual is to a great extent familiar with all the
=
thoughts, emotions and activities of the commu-
nity. The uniformity of behavior is similar to
that expected among ourselves of a member of a
social “set.” A person who does not conform to
the habits of thought and actions of his “set” loses
standing and must leave. In our modern civiliza-
tion he is likely to find another congenial “set,” to
the habits of which he can conform. In primitive
society such sets are absent. With us the presence
of many groups of different standards of interest
and behavior is a stimulus for critical self-
examination, for conflicts of group interests and
other forms of intimate contact are ever present.
Among primitive people this stimulus does not
occur within the tribal unit. For these reasons
individual independence is attained with much
greater difficulty and tribal standards have much
greater force.
Individual independence is the weaker the more
markedly a culture is dominated by a single idea
that controls the actions of every individual. We
may illustrate this again by the example of the
Indians of the northwest coast of America and of
those of the Plains. The former are dominated
by the desire to obtain social prominence by the
display of wealth and by occupying a position of
high rank which depends upon ancestry and con-
formity to the social requirements of rank. The
life of almost every individual is regulated by this
¢
thought. The desire for social prestige finds ex-
pression in amassing riches, in squandering ac-
cumulated wealth, in lavish display, in outdoing
rivals of equal rank, in marrying so as to insure
rank for one’s children, more even than in a set of
rich young people in our cities who have inherited
wealth and who lose caste unless they come up
to the social pace of their set. The uniformity of
this background and the intensity with which it is
cultivated in the young do not allow other forms
to arise and keep the cultural outlook stable.
Quite similar observations may be made among
the natives of New Guinea, among whom display
of wealth is also a dominating passion.
Quite different is the background of life of the
Indians of the Plains. - The desire to obtain honors
by warlike deeds prompts thoughts and actions of
every one. Social position is intimately bound up
with success in war, and the desire for prominence
is inculcated in the mind of every child. The
combination of these two tendencies determines the
mental status of the community and prevents the
development of different ideals.
Again different are conditions among the seden-
tary tribes of New Mexico. According to Dr.
Ruth L. Bunzel the chief desire of the Zuni Indian
is to conform to the general level of behavior and
not to be prominent. Prominence brings with it so
“many duties and enmities that it is avoided. The
dominating interest in life is occupation with cere-
monialism and this combined with fear of out-
standing responsibility gives a steady tone to life.
In all these cases the uniformity of social habits
and the lack of examples of different types of be-
havior make deyiations difficult and place the in-
/ dividual who does not conform in an antisocial
class, even if his revolt is due to a superior mind
and to strength of character.
In primitive society the general cultural outlook
is in most cases uniform and examples that are op-
posed to the usual behavior are of rare occurrence.
The participation of many in a uniform attitude
has a stabilizing effect.
When at times of great popular excitement the
masses in civilized society are swayed by a single
idea, the independence of the individual is lost in
the same manner as it is in primitive society. We
have passed through a period of such dominant
ideas during the World War and it is probable
that every European nation was affected in the
same manner. What seemed before the outbreak
of hostilities as momentous differences vanished
and one thought animated every nation.
All this is quite different in a diversified cul-
ture, particularly if the child is exposed to the
influences of conflicting tendencies, so that none
has the opportunity to become automatically set-
tled, to become sufficiently firmly ingrained in
nature to evoke intense resistance against different
habits. When only one dominant attitude exists,
the rise of a critical attitude requires a strong,
creative mind. Where many exist and none has a
marked, emotional appeal, opportunity for critical.
choice is given.
The greate. the differentiation of groups within
the social unit, and the closer the contact between
them the less is it likely that any of the traditional
lines of behavior will be so firmly established that
they become entirely automatic. In a diversified
culture the child is exposed to so many conflicting
tendencies that few only have the opportunity to
become so strongly ingrained in nature as to evoke
energetic resistance against different habits. A
stratified society consisting of classes with privi-
leges and different viewpoints is, therefore, more
subject to change than a homogeneous society.
This may account for the intense conservatism of
the Eskimo, whose culture has changed very little
over a long period. They are remote from contact
with foreign cultures, and their society is remark-
ably homogeneous, all households being practically
on the same level and all participating fully in the
tribal culture. In contrast to the permanence of
their culture there is evidence of comparatively
rapid changes among the Indians of British
Columbia. They are exposed to contact with
cultures of distinct types; and on account of the
diversity of privileges of individuals, families and
societies their customs have been in a state of
flux.
These changes are facilitated in all those cases
in which customs are entrusted to the care of a few
individuals. Among many tribes sacred cere-
monials are in the keeping of a few priests or of
a single chief or priest. Although they are sup-
posed to preserve the ceremonial! faithfully in all
its details, we have ample evidence showing that
owing to forgetfulness, to ambition, to the work-
ings of a philosophic or imaginative mind, or to
the premature death of the keeper cf the secret,
the forms may undergo rapid changes.
The influence of an individual upon culture de-
pends not only upon his strength but also upon the
readiness of society to accept changes. During
the unstable conditions of cultural life produced
by contact between European and primitive civili-
zations many native prophets have arisen who have
with more or less success modified the religious
beliefs of the people. Their revelations, however,
were reflexes of the mixed culture. The new ideas
created in society are not free, but are determined
by the culture in which they arise. The artist is
hemmed in by the peculiar style of the art and the
technique of his environment; the religious mind
by current religious belief; the political leader by
established political forms. Only when these are
shaken by the impact of foreign ideas or by violent
changes of culture owing to disturbing conditions
is the opportunity given to the individual to estab-
lish new lines of thought that may give a new
direction to cultural change.
Chapter VIII
EDUCATION
WHEN investigating the physical characteristics
of mankind, anthropologists do not confine them-
selves to the study of the adult. They investigate
also the growth and development of the child.
They record the increase in size of the body and
of its organs, the changes in physiological reaction
and of mental behavior. The results of these
studies are laid down in certain norms character-
istic of each age and each social or racial group.
Physiologically and psychologically the child
does not function in the same way as the adult, the
male not in the same way as the female. An-
thropological research offers, therefore, a means —
of determining what may be expected of children
of different ages and this knowledge is of consider-
able value for regulating educational methods.
From this point of view Madame Montessori has
developed a pedagogical anthropology and many
educators occupy themselves with investigations of
form and function of the body during childhood
and adolescence, in the hope of developing stand-
ards by which we can regulate our demands upon
the physiological and mental performances of the
child. More than that, many educators hope to
be enabled to place each individual child in its
proper position and to predict the course of its
development.
Anthropological investigations of an age class,
let us say of eight-year-old children, show, for a
selected social and racial group, a certain distri-
bution of stature, weight, size of head, develop-
ment of the skeleton, condition of teeth, size of
internal organs and so on. The children repre-
sented in the group are not by any means equal,
but each series of observations shows the majority
of individuals ranging near a certain value and few
exhibiting values of measurements remote from
a middle value, the fewer the more remote from
it. If the statures of eight-year-old boys range
about forty-nine inches, then the number of those
who are one, two, three inches taller or shorter
than this value will decrease with the size of the
excess or deficiency. We have seen before, in our
consideration of races, that it is a mistake to con-
sider the middle value as the norm. We must
define the type by the distributions of the various
measurements of the whole series of individuals
included in our age class.
When boys of different ages are compared,—
_for instance, children of seven years and nine years
of age with those of eight years of age of whom we
spoke just now,—it will be found that the range of
forms in these three adjoining years is so wide that
many sizes are found that belong to the three age
classes. This is true, not only of stature, but of
all the other measures, no matter whether we are
dealing with anatomical or functional values.
This merely expresses the common observation
that the physical development of a child and its
behavior do not allow us to give a correct estimate
of its age.
The reasons for the differences between children
are quite varied. Form and size of the body and
its functioning depend upon heredity. Children
of a tall family tend to be tall; children of a
family of stocky build are liable to develop bodily
form of the same type. The physical basis for
similarity of function is also determined by
heredity.
Another cause for differences is found in differ-
ent environmental conditions. Food, sunshine,
fresh air, accidental sickness or freedom from
sickness are important contributory elements.
Differences in the rate of development may be
due to hereditary constitution or to environmental
conditions. These last are of particular impor-
tance in the application of anthropological stand-
ards to educational problems. If we could deter-
mine whether a child is retarded or accelerated in
its development, and if we knew the standards for
each age, the demands to be made upon the child
could be regulated accordingly.
The rate of development of the individual is
expressed primarily by the appearance of definite
physiological changes. In a group of the same
descent there is presumably a definite order in
which physiological changes occur and deviations
from this order may be interpreted as retardations
or accelerations. We observe the ages at which
certain changes in the body and in the functions
of organs occur. The length of the period of
gestation; the first appearance of teeth; the ap-
pearance of centers of ossification in the skeleton;
the joining of separate bones, such as the shafts
and ends of the long bones, fingers and toes; sexual
maturity; the appearance of the wisdom teeth; are
indications that, physiologically speaking, the re-
spective parts of the body have reached a certain,
definite state of development.
The time of occurrence of such phenomena has
been studied to a certain extent, although not yet
adequately. The observations show that at all ages
the time at which these stages are reached, varies
materially in different individuals, and the more
so the later in life the particular stage develops.
In fact, the degree of variation, even in childhood,
is surprising. While the period of gestation varies
_only by days, the first appearance of the first teeth
varies by many weeks. The time of the loss of the
deciduous teeth differs by months and the period
when maturity is reached differs by years. This
variability of age at which definite physiological
conditions are reached goes on increasing in later
life. The signs of senility appear in different indi-
viduals many years apart. We speak, therefore,
of a physiological age of an individual in contrast
to his chronological age. If the normal age at
which the permanent inner incisors of boys ap-
pear is seven and a half, then a six-year-old boy
whose inner incisors are erupting is, physiologic-
ally speaking, seven and a half years old, or his
physiological acceleration amounts to one and a
half years, so far as tooth development is
concerned.
If the whole body and its physiological and
mental functions were developing as a unit we
should have an excellent means of placing each
individual according to his or her stage of develop-
ment. Unfortunately this is not the case and an
attempt to use a single trait for the determination
of the physiological age of an individual will gen-
erally fail. Skeleton, teeth and internal organs,
while being influenced by the general state of
development of the body, exhibit at the same time
a considerable degree of independence which may
be due to hereditary or to external causes.
The interrelation between the state of develop-
ment of parts of the body is not known in detail.
We do know that, in general, size and physi-
ological age are related. Children who are ado-
lescent are taller and heavier, in every respect
larger, than children of the same age who do not
yet show signs of approaching adolescence. The
development of the skeleton is correlated with
size, for among children of the same age the taller
ones have long bones that approach maturer stages
than the shorter ones. In a socially and racially
homogeneous group the children whose permanent
teeth erupt early are also taller than those whose
permanent teeth erupt late.
The same interrelation is expressed in the
growth of children belonging to different social
classes. The rapidity of the development of the™
body is closely related to the economic status of
the family. The children of well-to-do parents,
who enjoy plenty of food, exercise, fresh air and
sunshine, develop more quickly than the children
of the poor. Observations in Russia, Italy,
America and in other countries all indicate that
the time when a certain physiological stage is
reached is earlier in the rich than in the poor.
Therefore all the bodily measurements of children
of the rich are greater than those of the poor of
the same age and the differences between the two
groups are greatest when growth is most rapid
and the changes of physiological status are most
" pronounced. This happens during adolescence
Later on, when growth ceases the rich are at a
standstill, while the poor continue to grow, so that
the difference between the groups is lessened, al-
though it never disappears completely.
All this indicates that there is a correlation be-
tween the growth of different parts of the body.
Still, these relations are subject to many disturb-
ances. This has been observed particularly in
regard to the teeth. The poor whose general de-
velopment is retarded, shed their deciduous teeth
earlier than the well-to-do—presumably on ac-
count of the greater care with which the deciduous
teeth of children of the better situated classes are
treated. Their deciduous teeth are carefully pre-
served, while those of the poor often decay and are
lost. Therefore the stimulus for the early de-
velopment of the permanent teeth due to the loss
of the corresponding deciduous teeth does not
occur among the well-to-do.
More important than the purely anatomical
relations are those between the functions of the
body and the state of bodily development. We
have good evidence that these also are related.
When we classify children of the same age accord-
ing to their school standing, we find that those in
the higher grades are much larger in every way
than those in the lower grades. We also find that
in regard to physiological status they are more ad-
vanced than children who are retarded in their
school standing. Although this proof is not quite
satisfactory, since the advancement in school will
also depend upon the apparent bodily develop-
ment of children, it indicates a rather interesting
relation between the general functioning of the
body and maturity.
A comparison between the two sexes from these
points of view shows that every physiological stagé
that has been investigated occurs earlier in girls
than in boys. The difference in time is at first
slight. The early stages of development of the
skeleton observed during the first few years of life
indicate a difference in favor of the girls of a few
months. At the time of adolescence the physi-
ological development of girls precedes that of boys
by more than two years.
This difference is important. During the early
years of childhood the apparent development of
girls and boys, expressed by their stature and
weight, is very nearly the same. From this obser-
vation the inference has been drawn that in early
childhood the sex differences in size and form of
the skeleton, muscles and so on are negligible, not-
withstanding their importance in later life. If we
compare, however, boys and girls at the same stage
of physiological development, their relation ap-
pears quite differently. If a girl seven years old
_ is at the same stage of physiological development
as a boy eight years old, we should compare the
bulk of the body at these stages, and not at the
same chronological age. The boy of eight years
is considerably taller and heavier than the girl of
seven years. In other words, at the same stage of
physiological development the relation of size
characteristic of the sexes in adult life exists.
The correctness of this interpretation is proved
by the measures of those parts of the body that
grow slowly. Thus, on the average, the head of
girls is always smaller than that of boys of the
same age. In this case the actual ratio of the
measures in the two sexes is not obscured because
the increment of size corresponding to the amount
of physiological acceleration of the girl is small
as compared to the actual amount of sex differ-
ence; while in the case of weight and stature the
corresponding increment is so great that it obscures
the typical sex difference. The sex difference in
the length of the head, measured from forehead to
occiput, is about eight millimeters in favor of the
men. The total increment due to growth for girls
who may be in their physiological development
two years ahead of boys is not more than about
three millimeters. A sexual difference of five
millimeters remains even during this period. The
same relations appear in the slow-growing thick-
ness of long bones which exhibit the same sex
differences in childhood as in adult life.
These observations are important because they
emphasize the existence in childhood of sexual
differences in many parts of the body. These sug-
gest the further question in how far the anatomical
differences are accompanied by physiological and
psychological differences.
What is true of physical measurements is equally
true of mental observations: the powers of chil-
dren increase rapidly with increasing age. The
growing power of attention, of resistance to
fatigue, the gradual increase of knowledge, the
changes in form of thought, have been studied.
The practical value of all these investigations is
that they give us the means of laying out a standard
of demands that may be made on boys and girls of
various ages and belonging to a certain society.
Particularly in an educational system of a large
city the knowledge so gained is helpful in planning
the general curriculum.
In a large educational system the observations
on physiological age will also be helpful in assign-
ing children a little more adequately to the grades
into which they fit. It is probable that children of
the same stage of physiological development will
work together more advantageously than children
of the same chronological age.
The existence of secondary sexual characteristics
and the difference between the sexes in functional
maturity should be considered in the problem of
coeducation. During the period of adolescence
the physiological development of boys and girls of
the same ages is so different that joint education
seems of doubtful value. It would probably be of
advantage to retain contact between boys and girls
of equal maturity. The detailed plan of instruc-
tion should consider the differences between boys
and girls.
We do not know much about differences in the
rate of development determined by heredity, but
it is not unlikely that these exist.
A comparison of some well-to-do Jewish chil-
dren in New York and Northwest European
children in Newark shows a fairly uniform growth
of the two groups while they are young. With
approaching adolescence the growth of Jewish
boys slackens, while the Northwest Europeans con-
tinue to grow vigorously. The effect is that the
stature of the adults is quite distinct. There is no
evidence that maturity sets in at an earlier age
among the Jews. Neither is there any indication
that the mode of life is essentially different. The
same relation is found in a comparison of poor
Hebrews and the mass of American Public School
children. Here also boys agree in their stature up
to the fifteenth year. Then follows a period of
rapid growth for the public school boys, and of re-
tarded growth for the Jews.
Other differences have been observed in the
growth of full blood Indians and half bloods. As
children the former seem to be taller than the half
bloods, while as adults the half bloods are taller
than the Indians. It has also been shown that the
increase of the size of the head differs in different
racial groups. The data available at the present
time are still very imperfect.
It is not by any means certain that these differ-
ences may not be due to environmental as much as
to hereditary conditions. All we know with cer-
tainty is that when the adult forms of two races
vary materially then the course of growth is also
different.
It is probable that the characteristic periods
when physiological changes occur may also differ
among different races. The influence of outer con-
ditions upon these phenomena is so great that noth-
ing certain can be stated. The value of a knowl-
edge of these phenomena for educational problems
cannot be doubted.
Educators are not satisfied with the general re-
sult here outlined. They wish to ascertain the ex-
act position of each individual in order to assign to
him his proper place. This is more than the an-
thropological method can accomplish. Although
a group of children may be segregated that are ap-
proximately of the same stage of physiological de-
velopment, the individuals will not be uniform.
This may be illustrated by a few examples.
Badly nourished children are on the whole
smaller and lighter in weight than those well
nourished. It is, therefore, likely that the small
and light children of a certain age will include
more undernourished individuals than the tall and
heavy children. Undernourishment will also
make children of a given age deficient in weight in
comparison to their stature. It may then be ex-
pected that those who are small and light of
weight in proportion to their size are more often
undernourished than those showing the opposite
traits.
According to this method, to which may be
added a few other characteristics, undernourished
children have been segregated and given better
food to bring them up to the standard.
It is not difficult to prove that these criteria are
not adequate and that errors may be expected.
Children differ in bodily build by heredity. Some
are tall with heavy bones, others small with a light
skeleton. These may be perfectly healthy and well
nourished and still will appear in the “under-
nourished” class. Others may have been retarded
in their early development by sickness and may be
both too small and too light of weight. If we ex-
amine each individual carefully in regard to the
appearance of skin and muscles and whatever in-
dication can be found of undernourishment, we
actually find a lack of agreement between the really
undernourished group and the one segregated ac-
cording to statistical methods. The group contains
so many individuals who are tall and heavy that a
tolerably accurate selection of the undernourished
cannot be made by such means. Even if we con-
sider the food that is given to each individual and
include this criterion in our selection we do not
succeed muci better, because there are those who
are well fed, but whose digestive system is at fault
and who cannot make proper use of their food.
The selection will bring it about that a greater
number of undernourished individuals are in the
segregated class, but it would not be right to claim
that in this manner all those who are under-
nourished have been found, nor that all those
segregated are really undernourished. ‘The in-
dividual investigation cannot be dispensed with.
The same conditions prevail in regard to all
other characteristics. If the child is short of stat-
ure the shortness may depend upon hereditary
smallness, upon retardation, or upon early unfavor-
able conditions which, however, may have been
completely overcome.
Even when retardation can be proved by direct
physiological evidence it does not follow that the
child must belong mentally to the age class so in-
dicated, for the conditions controlling physiolog-
ical and psychological functioning are not by any
means exclusively determined by physiological age.
“Hereditary character and environmental causes en-
i
tirely independent of the time element are no ‘less
important. A group of children of exactly the
same stage of physiological development as de-
termined by the few available tests differ consider-
ably among themselves. Their reactions may be
quick or slow, their senses may be acute or dull,
their experience may be so varied according to
their home surroundings and general mode of life
that a considerable variation in adaptability to
educational requirements may be expected.
No matter what kind of measurements, experi-
ments, and tests may be desired, their relation to
the actual personality is always indirect. Without
detailed study of the individual a proper peda-
gogical treatment is unattainable.
What is true of a group cannot be applied to an
individual.
It will be seen that this agrees with our judg-
ment regarding the significance of racial char-
acteristics. We are apt to consider those features
or measurements around which the great mass of
individuals cluster as characteristic of the group.
We believe that this is the type to which all con-
form. In doing so we forget that a wide range of
variations is characteristic of every group and that
a considerable number of individuals deviate
widely from the “type,” and that nevertheless these
belong to the same group. For this reason the
group standard cannot be applied to every in-
dividual. If, for practical reasons, as in education,
it is desired to form a homogeneous group, the com-
ponent individuals must be picked out according
to their characteristics from different groups.
There are cases in which for the sake of effi-
ciency anthropological grouping may be utilized.
When it is necessary to select large numbers from
a population, as, for instance, for enlistment dur-
ing the late war, it is useful to know that indi-
viduals of an unfavorable body build are on the
whole not able to withstand the strain of army
life. Very tall, slim persons with a slight depth
of chest are of this kind. The flatter the chest the
more of them will be unable to fulfill the demands
made on bodily strength and endurance. It will
then be economical to discard the whole class
rather than to take advantage of the few who may
be useful.
Similar considerations are valid in the selection
of laborers for those employers who rate the la-
borer not as a person but solely according to his
money value, because the turnover of labor will be
less rapid if the adaptable individuals are numer-
ous in the class from which the selection is made.
Educators are interested in another problem. It
is desirable to predict the development of an indi-
vidual. Ifa child has difficulties in learning, will
‘it continue to be a dullard or may a better prog-
nosis be given; or if a child is underdeveloped will
it continue to remain puny?
The answer can be given at least to the physical
side of this question. We have followed a con-
siderable number of children from early growth
on. A group of small young children are liable to
grow less than tall children of the same age. Dur-
ing adolescence a group of tall children will grow
less than a group of short children of the same age.
The latter condition expresses clearly that the short
children are on the whole physiologically younger
than the tall ones and are, therefore, still growing
while the taller ones are nearly mature. In early
years the conditions are different. Accelerated
children grow with increased rapidity, while those
who are retarded lag the more behind the more
they are retarded. Fora whole group it is possible
to predict what the average increment will be if
the rate of growth at an early time is given. How-
ever, these results are not significant for the indi-
vidual. The causes by which the whole course of
growth is controlled are too varied, the accidents
that influence it cannot be predicted. It is true
that the course of undisturbed development de-
pends upon the hereditary character of the indi-
vidual, but the varying environmental conditions
disturb this picture.
What is true of the growth of the body is much
more true of its functions, particularly of the
mental functioning. A prediction of the future de-
velopment of a normal individual cannot be made
with any degree of assurance.
Anthropology throws light upon an entirely dif-
ferent problem of education. We have discussed ,
before the causes that make for cultural stability
and found that automatic actions based on the
habits of early childhood are most stable. The
firmer the habits that are instilled into the child
the less they are subject to reasoning, the stronger
is their emotional appeal. If we wish to educatei
children to unreasoned mass action, we must culti-
vate set habits of action and thought. If we wish
to educate them to intellectual and emotional free-
dom care must be taken that no unreasoned action
takes such habitual hold upon them that a serious
struggle is involved in the attempt to cast it off.
The customary forms of thought of primitive
tribes show us clearly how an individual who is
hemmed in on all sides by automatic reactions may
believe himself to be free. The Eskimo present
an excellent example of these conditions. In their
social life they are exceedingly individualistic.
The social group has so little cohesion that we have
hardly the right to speak of tribes. A number of
families come together and live in the same vil-
. lage, but there is nothing to prevent any one of
them from living and settling at another place with
other families of his acquaintance. In fact, during
a period of a lifetime the families constituting an
Eskimo village are shifting about; and while they
generally return after many years to the places
where their relatives live, the family may have be-
longed to a great many different communities.
There is no authority vested in any individual, no
chieftaincy, andno method by which orders, if they
were given, could be enforced. In short, so far
as human relations are concerned, we have a con-
dition of almost absolute anarchy. We might,
therefore, say that every single person is entirely
free, within the limits of his own mental ability
and physical competency, to determine his own
mode of life and his own mode of thinking.
Nevertheless it is easily seen that there are in-
numerable restrictions determining his behavior.
The Eskimo boy learns how to handle the knife,
how to use bow and arrow, how to hunt, how to
build a house; the girl learns how to sew and mend
clothing and how to cook; and during all their
lives they apply the methods learned in childhood.
New inventions are rare and the whole industrial
life of the people runs in traditional channels.
What is true of their industrial activities is no
less true of their thoughts. Certain religious ideas
have been transmitted to them, notions of right and
wrong, amusements and enjoyment of certain types
of art. Any deviation from these is not likely to
occur. At the same time, and since all alien forms
of behavior are unknown to them, it never enters
into their minds that any different way of thinking
and acting would be possible, and they consider
themselves as perfectly free in regard to all their
actions.
Based on our wider and different experience we
know that the industrial problems of the Eskimo
might be solved in a great many other ways and
that their religious traditions and social customs
might be quite different from what they are. From
the outside, objective point of view we see clearly
the restrictions that bind the individual who con-
siders himself free.
It is not difficult to sée that the same conditions
prevail among ourselves. Families and schools
which assiduously cultivate the tenets of a religious
faith and of a religious ceremonial and surround
them with an emotional halo raise, on the whole,
a generation that follows the same path. The
Catholicism of Italy, the Protestantism of Scandi-
navia and Germany, the Mahometanism of Tur-
key, the orthodox Judaism, are intelligible only on
the basis of a lack of freedom of thought due to the
strength of the automatic reaction to impressions
received in early childhood that exclude all new
viewpoints. In the majority of individuals
who grow up under these conditions a new, dis-
tinct viewpoint is not brought out with sufficient
vigor to make it clear that theirs is not freely
chosen, but imposed upon them; and, zf strange
ideas are presented, the emotional appeal of the
thoughts that are part of their nature is sufficient
to make any rationalization of the habitual atti-
tude acceptable, except to those of strong intellect
and character. To say the least, the cultivation of
formal religious attitudes in family and school
makes difficult religious freedom.
What is true of religion is equally true of sub-
servience to any other type of social behavior.
Only to a limited extent can the distribution of
political parties be understood by economic con-
siderations. Often party affiliation is bred in the
young in the same way as denominational al-
legiance.
With the weakening of the impressions of youth-
ful instruction and familiarity with many varying
forms develops the freedom of choice. The
weakening of the valuation of the dogma and the
spread of scientific information has resulted in the
loss of cohesion of the Protestant churches.
The methods of education chosen depend upon
our ideals. The imperialistic State that strives for
power and mass action wants citizens who are one
in thought, one in being swayed by the same
symbols. Democracy demands individual freedom
of the fetters of social symbols. Our public schools
are hardly conscious of the conflict of these ideas.
They instill automatic reactions to symbols by
means of patriotic ceremonial, in many cases by
indirect religious appeal and too often through the
automatic reactions to the behavior of the teacher
that is imitated. At the same time they are sup-
posed to develop mind and character of the indi-
vidual child. No wonder that they create conflicts
in the minds of the young, conflicts between the
automatic attitudes that are carefully nursed and
the teachings that are to contribute to individual
freedom.
It may well be questioned whether the crises
that are so characteristic of adolescent life in our
civilization and that educators assume to be or-
ganically determined, are not due in part to these
conflicts, in part to the artificial sexual restraints
demanded by our society. We are altogether too
readily inclined to ascribe to physiological causes
those difficulties that are brought about by cultural
interference with the physiological demands of the
body. It is necessary that the crises and struggles
that are characteristic of individual life in our
society be investigated in societies in which our re-
straints do not exist while others may be present,
before we assume all too readily that these are in-
herent in “human nature.”
The serious mental struggle induced by the con-
flict between instinctive reaction and traditional
" social ethics is illustrated by a case of suicide
among the Eskimo. A family had lost a child in
the fall and according to custom the old fur cloth-
ing had to be thrown away. Skins were scarce that
year and a second death in the family would have
led to disaster to all its members. This induced
the old, feeble grandmother, a woman whom I
knew well, to wander away one night and to expose
herself, in a rock niche, to death by freezing,
away from the family who thus would not have
been contaminated by contact with a corpse.
However, she was missed, found and brought back.
She escaped a second time and died before she was
found.
Another case is presented by the Chuckchee of
Siberia. They believe that every person will live
in the future life in the same condition in which he
finds himself at the time of death. As a conse-
quence an old man who begins to be decrepit
wishes to die, so as to avoid life as a cripple in the
endless future; and it becomes the duty of his son
to kill him. The son believes in the righteousness
of his father’s request, but, at the same time, feels
the filial love for his father, and a conflict of duties
arises between filial love and the traditional cus-
toms of the tribe. Generally the customary be-
havior is obeyed, but not without severe struggles.
An instructive example of the absence of our
difficulties in the life of adolescents and the oc-
currence of others is found in the studies of Dr.
Margaret Mead on the adolescents of Samoa.
With the freedom of sexual life, the absence of a
large number of conflicting ideals, and the empha-
sis upon forms that to us are irrelevant, the ado-
lescent crisis disappears, while new difficulties
originate at a later period when complexities of
married life develop. A similar example is pre-
sented in the life of one of our southwestern Indian
tribes, the Zuni, among whom, according to Dr.
Ruth L. Bunzel, the suppression of ambition, the
desire to be like one’s neighbor and to avoid all
prominence are cultivated. They lead to a pecu-
liar impersonal attitude and to such an extent of
formalism that individual crises are all but sup-
pressed.
We do not know enough about these questions,
but our anthropological knowledge justifies the
most serious doubts regarding the physiological
determination of many of the crises that charac-
terize individual life in our civilization. A thor-
ough study of analogous situations in foreign
cultures will do much to clear up this problem
which is of fundamental importance for the theory
of education.
It is a question whether the doubts that beset the
individual in such a period are beneficial or a
hindrance. The seriousness of the struggle is cer-
tainly undesirable and an easier transition will be
facilitated by lessening the intensity of attachment
to the situation against which he is led to rebel.
The lack of freedom in our behavior is not con-
fined to the uneducated, it prevails in the thoughts
and actions of all classes of society.
When we attempt to form our opinions in an
intelligent manner, we are inclined to accept the
judgment of those who by their education and oc-
cupation are compelled to deal with the questions
at issue. We assume that their views must be ra-
tional and based on an intelligent understanding of
the problems. The foundation of this belief is the
tacit assumption that they have special knowledge
and that they are free to form perfectly rational
opinions. However, it is easy to see that there is
no social group in existence in which such freedom
prevails.
The behavior in somewhat complex primitive
societies in which there is a distinction between
different social classes, throws an interesting light
upon these conditions. An instance is presented
by the Indians of British Columbia, among whom
a sharp distinction is made between people of noble
birth and common people. In this case the tradi-
tional behavior of the two classes shows consider-
able differences. The social tradition that regu-
lates the life of the nobility is somewhat analogous
to the social tradition in our society. A great deal
of stress is laid upon strict observance of conven-
tion and upon display, and nobody can maintain
his position in high society without an adequate
amount of ostentation and without strict regard for
conventional conduct. These requirements are so
fundamental that an overbearing conceit and a con-
tempt for the common people become social re-
quirements of an important chief. The contrast
between the social proprieties for the nobility and
those for the common people is very striking. Of
the common people are expected humbleness,
mercy and all those qualities that we consider
amiable and humane.
Similar observations may be made in all those
cases in which, by a complex tradition, a social
class is set off from the mass of the people. The
chiefs of the Polynesian Islands, the kings of
Africa, the medicine men of many countries,
present examples in which the line of conduct and
thought of a social group is strongly modified by
their segregation from the mass of the people.
They form closed societies. On the whole, in so-
cieties of this type, the mass of the people consider
as their ideal those actions which we should
characterize as humane; not by any means that all
their actions conform to humane conduct, but their
valuation of men shows that the fundamental al-
truistic principles which we recognize are recog-
nized by them too. Not so with the privileged
classes. In place of the general humane interest
the class interest predominates; and while it cannot
be claimed that their conduct, individually, is self-
ish, it is always so shaped that the interest of the
class to which a person belongs prevails over the
interest of society as a whole. If it is necessary to
secure rank and to enhance the standing of the
family by killing off a number of enemies, there is
no hesitation felt in taking life. If the standards
of the class require that it members should not per-
form menial occupations, but should devote
themselves to art or learning, then all the members
of the class will vie with one another in the attain-
ment of these achievements. It is for this reason
that every segregated class is much more strongly
influenced by special traditional ideas than is the
rest of the people; not that the multitude is free
to think rationally and that its behavior is not de-
termined by tradition; but the tradition is not so
specific, not so strictly determined in its range, as
in the case of the segregated classes. For this
reason it is often found that the restriction of free-
dom of thought by convention is greater in what
we might call the educated classes then in the mass
of the people.
I believe this observation is of great importance
when we try to understand conditions in our own
society. Its bearing upon the problem of the psy-
chological significance of nationalism will at once
be apparent; for the nation is also a segregated
class, a closed society, albeit segregated according
to other principles; and the characteristic feature
of nationalism is that its social standards are con-
sidered as more fundamental than those that are
general and human, or rather that the members
of each nation like to assume that their ideals are
or should be the true ideals of mankind. The late
President Wilson once gave expression to this
misconception when he said that, if we,—Ameri-
cans,—hold ideals for ourselves, we should also
hold them for others, referring in that case par-
ticularly to Mexico. At the same time it illus-
trates clearly that we should make a fundamental
mistake if we should confound class selfishness and
individual selfishness; for we find the most splen-
did examples of unselfish devotion to the interests
of the nation, heroism that has been rightly praised
for thousands of years as the highest virtue, and it
is difficult to realize that nevertheless the whole
history of mankind points in the direction of a
human ideal as opposed to a national ideal. And
indeed may we not continue to admire the self-
sacrifice of a great mind, even if we transcend to
ideals that were not his, and that perhaps, owing
to the time and place in which he lived, could not
be his?
Our observation has also another important ap-
plication. The industrial and economic develop-
ment of modern times has brought about a differen-
’ tiation within our population that has never been
equalled in any primitive society. The occupa-
tions of the various parts of a modern European
or American population differ enormously; so
much so that in many cases it is almost impossible
for people speaking the same language to under-
stand one another when they talk about their daily
work. The ideas with which the scientist, the ar-
tist, the tradesman, the business man, the laborer
operate are so distinctive that they have only a
few fundamental elements in common. Here it
may again be observed that those occupations
which are intellectually or emotionally most highly
specialized require the longest training, and train--
ing always means an infusion of historically trans-
mitted ideas. It is therefore not surprising that the -
thought of what we call the educated classes is
controlled essentially by those ideals which have
been transmitted to us by past generations. These
ideals are always highly specialized, and include
the ethical tendencies, the esthetic inclinations,
the intellectuality, and the expression of volition of
past times. After long continued education ac-
cording to these standards their control may find
expression in a dominant tone which determines
the whole mode of thought and which, for the very
reason that it has come to be ingrained into our
whole mentality, never rises into our consciousness.
In those cases in which our reaction is more con-
scious, it is either positive or negative. Our
thoughts may be based on a high valuation of the
past, or they may be in revolt against it.
When we bear this in mind we may understand
the characteristics of the behavior of the intel-
lectuals. It is a mistake to assume that their men-
tality is, on the average, appreciably higher than
that of the rest of the people. Perhaps a greater
number of independent minds find their way into
this group than into some other group of indi-
viduals who are moderately well-to-do; but their.
average mentality is surely in no way superior to
that of the workingmen, who by the conditions of
their youth have been compelled to subsist on the
produce of their manual labor. In both groups
mediocrity prevails; unusually strong and unusu-
ally weak individuals are the exceptions. For this
reason the strength of character and intellect that
is required for vigorous thought on matters in
which intense sentiments are involved is not com-
monly found,—either among the intellectuals or in
any other part of the population. This condition,
sombined with the thoroughness with which the in-
ellectuals have imbibed the traditions of the past,
makes the majority of them in all nations conven-
tional. It has the effect that their thoughts are
based on tradition, and that the range of their
vision is liable to be limited.
There are of course strong minds among the
ntellectuals who rise above the conventionalism of
their class, and attain that freedom that is the re-
ward of a courageous search for truth, along what-
ever path it may lead.
, In contrast to the intellectuals, the masses in our
modern city populations are less subject to the in-
fluence of traditional teaching. Many children
are torn away from school before it can make an
indelible impression upon their minds and they
may never have known the strength of the con-
servative influence of a home in which parents and
children live a common life. The more heteroge-
neous the society in which they live, and the more
the constituent groups are free from historic in-
fluences; or the more they represent different his-
toric traditions, the less strongly will they be
attached to the past.
This does not preclude the possibility of the
formation of small, self-centered, closed societies,
~—+gangs,—among the uneducated, that equal prim-
itive man in the intensity of their group feeling
and in the disregard of the rights of the outsider.
On account of their segregation they no longer be-
long to the masses.
It would be an exaggeration if we should extend
the view just expressed over all aspects of human
life. I am speaking here only of those fundamen-
tal concepts of right and wrong that develop in the
segregated classes and in the masses. In a society
in which heliefs are transmitted with great in-
tensity the impossibility of treating calmly the
views and actions of the heretic is shared by both
groups. When, through the progress of scientific
thought, the foundations of dogmatic belief are
shaken among the intellectuals and not among the
masses, we find the conditions reversed and greater
freedom of traditional forms of thought among the
intellectuals,—at least in so far as the current
dogma is involved. It would also be an exaggera-
tion to claim that the masses can sense the right
way of attaining the realization of their ideals, for
these must be found by painful experience and by
the application of knowledge. However, neither
of these restrictions touches our main contention;
namely, that the desires of the masses are in a
wider sense human than those of the classes.
It is therefore not surprising that the masses of
the people, whose attachment to the past is com-
paratively slight, respond more quickly and more
energetically to the urgent demands of the hour—
than the educated classes, and that the ethical ideals
of the best among them are human ideals, not those
of a segregated class. For this reason I should
always be more inclined to accept, in regard to
fundamental human problems, the judgment of the~
masses rather than the judgment of the intellec-
tuals, which is much more certain to be warped by
unconscious control of traditional ideas. I do not
“mean to say that the judgment of the masses would
be acceptable in regard to every problem of human
life, because there are many which, by their tech-
nical nature, are beyond their understanding; nor
do I believe that the details of the right solution of
a problem can always be found by the masses; but
I feel strongly that the problem itself, as felt by
them, and the ideal that they want to see realized,
is a safer guide for our conduct than the ideal of
the intellectual group that stand under the banof
an historical tradition that dulls their feeling for
the needs of the day.
One word more, in regard to what might be a
fatal misunderstanding of my meaning. If I de-
cry unthinking obedience to the ideals of our fore-
fathers, I am far from believing that it will ever
be possible or that it will even be desirable, to cast
away the past and to begin anew on a purely intel-
lectual basis. Those who think that this can be
accomplished do not, I believe, understand human
nature aright. Our very wishes for changes are
based on criticism of the past, and would take an-
other direction if the conditions under which we
live were of a different nature. We are building
up our new ideals by utilizing the work of our
ancestors, even where we condemn it, and so it will
be in the future. Whatever our generation may
achieve will attain in course of time that venerable
aspect that will lay in chains the minds of our
successors, and it will require new efforts to free
a future generation of the shackles that we are
forging. When we once recognize this process, we
must see that it is our task not only to free ourselves |
of traditional prejudice, but also to search in the
heritage of the past for what is useful and right,
and to endeavor to free the mind of future genera-
tions so that they may not cling to our mistakes, but
may be ready to correct them.
Chapter IX
MODERN CIVILIZATION AND PRIMITIVE CULTURE
IN the preceding pages we have considered the
effect of a number of fundamental biological, psy-
chological and social factors upon modern prob-
lems.
There are many other aspects of modern culture
that may be examined from an putaatigtd eh 2522
point of view.
One of the great difficulties of modern life is
presented by the conflict of ideals; individualism
against socialization; nationalism against interna-
tionalism; enjoyment of life against efficiency; ra-
tionalism against a sound emotionalism; tradition
against the logic of facts.
We may discern tendencies of change in all these
directions; and changes that appear to one as prog-
ress appear to another as retrogression. Attempts
to further individualism, to restrict efficiency, to
make tradition more binding would be considered
as objectionable and energetically resisted by
many. What is desirable depends upon valuations
that are not universally accepted.
Such differences of opinion do not exist in the
domain of physics or chemistry. The purposes to
which we apply physical or chemical knowledge
are definite. We have certain needs that are to be
filled. A bridge is to be built, houses are to be con-
structed, machinery for accomplishing some spe-
cific work is required, communication is to be fa-
cilitated, dyes are to be made, fertilizers to be in-
vented. In every case, even if the need is called
forth by preceding inventions, there is a definite
object to be attained, the value of which lies in the
improvement of the outer conditions of life. As
long as we are satisfied that the resulting comforts
and facilities are desirable, the application of our
knowledge is valuable. The importance of
achievements based on advances in_ physical
sciences is readily acknowledged in so far as they
enable us to overcome obstacles that would beset
our lives if we had to do without them.
The applicability of the results of research to
practical problems of social life are similar when
we consider aims universally recognized as desir-
able. Individual health depending upon the
health of the whole group is perhaps one of the
simplest of these. Even in this case difficulties
arise. There are individuals of impaired health
whose existence may somewhat endanger public
health. Is it of greater value to segregate these
from the social body to their disadvantage, or to
“tun the slight risk of their unfavorable influence
upon the whole population? The answer to this
question will depend upon valuations that have no
basis in science, but in ideals of social behavior,
and these are not the same for all members of a
modern social group.
_ In general we may say that in the practical ap-
plication of social science absolute standards are
lacking. It is of no use to say that we want to
attain the greatest good for the greatest number,
if we are not able to come to an agreement as to
what constitutes the greatest good.
This difficulty is strongly emphasized as soon as
we look beyond the confines of our own modern
civilization. The social ideals of the Central
African Negroes, of the Australians, Eskimo, and
Chinese are so different from our own that the
valuations given by them to human behavior are
not comparable. What is considered good by one
is considered bad by another.
It would be an error to assume that our own
social habits do not enter into judgments of the
mode of life and thought of alien people. A single
phenomenon like our reaction to what we call
“good manners” illustrates how strongly we are
influenced by customary behavior. We are ex-
ceedingly sensitive to differences in manners; defi-
nite table manners, etiquette of dress, a certain re-
serve, are peculiar to us. When different table
manners, odd types of dress, and an unusual ex-
pansiveness are found, we feel a revulsion and the
valuation of our own manners tinges our descrip-
tion of the foreign forms.
— The scientific study of generalized social forms
requires, therefore, that the investigator free him-
self from all valuations based on our culture. An
objective, strictly scientific inquiry can be made
only if we succeed in entering into each culture on
its own basis, if we elaborate the ideals of each
people and include in our general objective study
cultural values as found among different branches
of mankind. =
Even in the domain of science the favorite
method of approaching problems exerts a dominat-'
ing influence over our minds. This is well illus-
trated by the fashions prevailing in different
periods: the dialectics of the Middle Ages were as
satisfying to the average scientific minds of those
periods as is the aversion to dialectics and the in-
sistence on observation in modern times. The con-
centration of biological thought upon problems of
evolution in the early Darwinian period presents
another example. The kaleidoscopic changes in
interest, foremost in physiological and psycholog-
ical inquiries of our times,—such as the theories
based on the functions of glands of internal secre-
tion, on racial and individual constitution, or on
psychoanalysis,—are others. The passionate in-
tensity with which these ideas are taken up, lead-
ing to a temporary submersion of all others and to
a belief in their value as a sufficient basis of
inquiry, proves how easily the human mind is led to
the belief in an absolute value of those ideas that
are expressed in the surrounding culture.
The reasons for this type of behavior are not far
to seek. We are apt to follow the habitual activi-
ties of our fellows without a careful examination
of the fundamental ideas from which their actions
spring. Conformity in action has for its sequel
conformity in thought. The emancipation from
current thought is for most of us as difficult in
science as it is in everyday life.
The emancipation from our own culture, de-
manded of the anthropologist, is not easily attained,
because we are only too apt to consider the be-
havior in which we are bred as natural for all
mankind, as one that must necessarily develop
everywhere. It is, therefore, one of the funda-}
mental aims of scientific anthropology to learn
which traits of behavior, if any, are organically de-,
termined and are, therefore, the common prop-
erty of mankind and which are due to the culture
in which we live.
We are taught to lay stress upon national dif-
ferences that occur among Europeans and their
descendants. Notwithstanding the peculiarities
characteristic of each nation or local division
the essential cultural background is the same for
all of these. The cultural forms of Europe are
determined by what happened in antiquity in the
Eastern Mediterranean. In our modern civiliza-
tion we have to recognize the progeny of Greek
and Roman culture. The slight local variations
are built up on a fundamental likeness. They are
insignificant when we compare them to the dif-
ferences that obtain between Europe and peoples
that have not developed on the basis of the ancient
Mediterranean culture. Even India and China
cannot be entirely separated from the historical in-
fluences emanating from western Asia and the
Mediterranean area.
~- The objective study of types of culture that have
developed on historically independent lines or that
have grown to be fundamentally distinct enables
the anthropologist to differentiate clearly between
those phases of life that are valid for all mankind
and others that are culturally determined. Sup-
plied with this knowledge he reaches a standpoint
that enables him to view our own civilization”
critically and to enter into a comparative study of
values with a mind relatively uninfluenced by the
emotions elicited by the automatically regulated
behavior in which he participates as a member of
our society. ~
The freedom of judgment thus obtained is of
great value. We may not hope to reach it with
" ease, because it depends upon a clear recognition
of what is organically and what culturally deter-
mined. The inquiry into this problem is ham-
pered at every step by our own subjection to cul-
tural standards that are misconstrued as generally
valid human standards. The end can be reached
only by patient inquiry in which our own emo-
tional valuations and attitudes are conscientiously
held in the background. The psychological and
social data valid for all mankind that are so ob-
tained are basal for all culture and not subject to
varying valuation.
The values of our social ideals will thus gain in
clarity by a rigid, objective study of foreign cul-
tures.
If we could be sure that these studies would ulti-
mately lead in their results to the discovery of defi-
nite laws governing the historical development of
social life we might hope to construe a system for a
reasonable «treatment of our social problems. It
is, however, questionable whether such an ideal is
within our reach.
The fundamental difficulty may be illustrated by
examples taken from the inorganic world. When
we express a law in physics or chemistry we mean
that, certain conditions being given, a definite re-
sult will follow. I release an object at a given
place and it will fall with definite speed and ac-
celeration. I bring two elements into contact and
they will form, under controlled conditions, a defi-
nite compound. The result of an experiment may
be predicted if the conditions controlling it are
known. If our knowledge of mechanics and
mathematics is sufficient and the position of all the
planets at one given moment is known, we can fore-
tell what movements are going to happen and what
movements happened in the past, as long as no dis-
turbing outer influences make themselves felt.
Social phenomena cannot be subjected to experi-
ments. Controlled conditions, excluding disturb-
ing outer influences, are unattainable. These com-
plicate every process that we try to study.
The more complex the phenomena the more dif-
ficult it is to foretell the future from a condition
existing at a given moment, even if the essential
laws governing the happenings are known. Sup-
posing, for instance, we are studying erosion on a
mountainside. Can we foretell which course it is
to take, or how the present forms have resulted?
We find a gulch. At its head is a large bowlder
that deflected the water and caused it to cut a chan-
nel for itself on one side. If the stone had not
been there, the gulch would have had a different
direction. Itso happens that the soil in one direc-
tion was soft so that the running water cut readily
into it. We are dealing solely with the laws of ero-
sion, but even the most intimate knowledge of these
cannot adequately explain the present course of the
“gulch. The bowlder may be in its place because
+
it was loosened by an animal walking along the
mountainside. It fell down and rested at the place
where it obstructed the course of the running water.
All incidents of this class that influence the iso-
lated process we want to study are excluded in ex-
perimentation. They are accidents in so far as they
have no logical relation to the process about which
we desire to gain knowledge. Even in the astro-
nomical problem just alluded to the positions of
the heavenly bodies at the initial moment are in
this sense accidental, because they cannot be de-
rived from any mechanical law. Disturbing outer
influences that have no relation to the law must be
admitted as accidents that determine the distribu-
tion of matter at the moment chosen as the ini-
tial one.
These conditions make prediction of what is
going to happen in a special case exceedingly dif-
ficult, if not impossible. Accidental occurrences
that are logically not related to the phenomena
studied modify the sequence of events that might
be determined if the conditions were absolutely
controlled and protected against all outside inter-
ference. This condition is attained in a completely
defined physical or chemical experiment, but never
in any phenomenon of nature that can only be ob-
served, not controlled. Notwithstanding the ad-
vances in our knowledge of the mechanics of air
currents, weather prediction remains insecure in
regard to the actual state of the weather at a given
hour in a given spot. A general, fairly correct
prognosis for a larger area may be possible, but an
exact sequence of individual events cannot be
given. ‘Accidental causes are too numerous to
allow of an accurate prediction.
What is true in these cases is ever so much more
true of social phenomena. Let us assume that
there exists a society that has developed its culture
according to certain laws discovered by a close
scrutiny of the behavior of diverse societies. For
some reason, perhaps on account of hostile attacks
that have nothing to do with the inner workings
of the society, the people have to leave their home
and migrate from a fertile country into a desert.
They have to adjust themselves to new forms of
life; new ideas will develop in the new surround-
ings. The fact that they have been transplanted
from one region to another is just an accident,—
like the loosened bowlder that determined the di-
rection of the gulch.
Even a hasty consideration of the history of
man shows that accidents of this kind are the rule
in every society, for no society is isolated but exists
in more or less intimate relations to its neighbors.
The controlling conditions may also be of quite
a different nature. The game on which the people
subsist may change its habitat or become extinct,
a wooded area may become open country. All
cases of change of geographical or economic en-
vironment entail changes in the structure of so-
ciety, but these are accidental events in no way re-
lated to the inner working of the society itself.
As an example we may consider the history of
Scandinavia. If we try to understand what the
people are at the present time we have to inquire
into their descent. We must consider the climatic
and geographic changes that have occurred since
the period when the glaciers of the pleistocene re-
tracted and allowed man to settle, the changes in
vegetation, the early contact with southern and
eastern neighbors. All these have no relation to
the laws that may govern the inner life of a
society. They are accidents. If the Central
Europeans had had no influence whatever upon
Scandinavia the people would not be what they
are. These elements cannot be eliminated.
For thesereasons every culture can be under-
stood only as an historical growth. It is deter-
mined to a great extent by outer occurrences that
do not originate in the inner life of the people.
It might be thought that these conditions did not
prevail in early times, that primitive societies were
isolated and that the laws governing their inner
development may be learned directly from com-
parative studies of their cultures. This is not the
case. Even the simplest groups with which we are
familiar have developed by contact with their
neighbors. The Bushman of South Africa has
learned from the Negro; the Eskimo from the In-
dian; the Negrito from the Malay; the Veddah
from the Singhalese. Cultural influences are not
even confined to close neighbors; wheat and barley
traveled in early times over a large part of the Old
World; Ind3.n corn over the two Americas.
If we find that the legal forms of Africa, Europe
and Asia are alike and different from those of
primitive America, it does not follow that these
forms represent a natural sequence, unless an
actual, necessary order of the development can be
demonstrated. It is much more probable that by
cultural contact the legal forms of the Old World
have spread over a wide area.
It is more than questionable whether it is justi-
fiable to construct from a mere static examination
of cultural forms the world over an historical se-
quence that would express laws of cultural devel-
opment. Every culture is a complex growth and,
on account of the intimate, early associations of
people inhabiting large areas, it is not admissible
to assume that the accidental causes that modify
the course of development will cancel one another
and that the great mass of evidence will give us a
picture of a law of the growth of culture.
I am far from claiming that no general laws re-
lating to the growth of culture exist. Whatever
they may be, they are in every particular case over-
laid by a mass of accidents that were probably
much more potent in the actual happenings than
the general laws.
We may recognize definite, causally determined
relations between the economic conditions of a
people and the density of population. The number
of individuals of a hunting tribe inhabiting a par-
ticular territory is obviously limited by the avail-
able amount of game. There will be starvation as
soon as the population exceeds the maximum that
may be maintained in an unfavorable year. If
the same people develop agriculture and the art of
preserving a food supply for a long period, a
denser population is possible and, at the same time,
each individual will have more leisure and there
will be a greater number of individuals enjoying
leisure. Under these conditions the population is
liable to increase. We may perhaps say that com-
plexity of culture and density of population are
correlated. Whether this development actually
occurs in a given population is an entirely different
question. .
Sociologists have made many attempts to dis-
cover the conditions controlling the social behavior
of man and the development of culture, but their
generalizations do not enable us to predict the
actual happenings in a specific culture.
When we try to apply the results of anthropo-
logical studies to the problems of modern life, we
MODERN CIVILIZATION PN
must not expect results parallel to those obtained
by controlled experiments. The conditions are so
complex that it is doubtful whether any significant
“laws” can be discovered. There are certain tend-
encies in social behavior which are manifest; but
the conditions in which they are active are con-
trolled by accident, in so far as the varied activities
of society and its relation to the outer world are
logically unrelated. To give only one example:
the technical development of electricity depended
upon purely scientific work. The scientific dis-
coveries depended upon the general advance of
physics and upon purely theoretical interests.
They were seized upon by the tendency of our
times to exploit every discovery technically. The
modifications of our lives brought about by the use
of the telephone, radio, Roentgen rays and the
many other inventions are so little related to the
scientific discovery itself that in relation to them
it plays the réle of an accident. If some of the dis-
coveries had been made at another time their effect
upon our social life might have been quite dif-
ferent. Thus every change in one aspect of social
life acts as an accident in relation to others only
remotely related to it.
For these reasons anthropology will never be-
come an exact science in the sense that the knowI-
edge of the status of a society at a given moment
will permit us to predict what is going to happen.
Our observations relate primarily to the state of
society and the processes that go on in it.
These viewpoints must be borne in mind when
we try to approach the problems of cultural prog-
ress. They may also help us in a critique of some
of the theories on which modern social aspirations
are based.
The rapid development of science and of the
technical application of scientific knowledge are
the impressive indications of the progress of mod-
ern civilization.
An increase in our knowledge and in the control
of nature, an addition of new tools and processes
to those known before may well be called progress,
for nothing need be lost, but new powers are ac-
quired and new insight is opened. Much of the
increase in knowledge is, at the same time, elimina-
tion of error and in this sense also represents a
progress. In the acquisition of new methods of
controlling the forces of nature no qualitative
standard is involved. It is a quantitative increase
in the extent of previous achievements. In the
recognition of earlier errors our standard is truth;
but at the same time the recognition of error im-
plies more rational, often useful conclusions. In
all these acquisitions a process of reasoning is in-
volved. The achievements are a result of intel-
lectual work extending over ever-widening fields
and increasing in thoroughness.
The discovery of methods of preserving food,
the invention of manifold implements of the chase
and of tools for manufacture; of clothing, shelter
and utensils for everyday life; the discovery of
agriculture and the association with animals that
led to their domestication; the substitution of
metals for stone, bone, and wood; all these are
rungs on the long ladder that led to our modern in-
ventions, which are now being added to with over-
whelming rapidity.
Knowledge has been increasing apace. The
crude observation of nature taught man many
simple facts,—the forms and habits of animals and
plants, the course of the heavenly bodies, the
changes of weather and the useful properties of
materials, of fire and of water.
A long and difficult step was taken when the ac-
quired knowledge was first systematized and con-
scious inquiry intended to expand the boundaries
of knowledge was attempted. In early times
imagination was drawn upon to supply the causal
links between the phenomena of nature, or to give
teleological explanations that satisfied the mind.
Gradually the domain for the play of imagination
has been restricted and the serious attempt is being
made to subject imaginative hypotheses to the close
_scrutiny of observation.
Thus we may recognize progress in a definite
direction in the development of invention and ;
knowledge. If we should value a society entirely
on the basis of its technical and scientific achieve-
ments it would be easy to establish a line of prog-
ress which, although not uniform, leads from sim-
plicity to complexity.
Other aspects of cultural life are not with equal
ease brought into a progressive sequence.
The intensity of technical activity which creates
ever-increasing desires for physical comforts and
conveniences makes such demands upon the time of
all individuals that for the majority leisure is much
restricted. The example of primitive life proves
that activities that appeal to the emotions cannot
flourish without leisure; but leisure alone is not
sufficient. Unless the individual participates in a
multiplicity of cultural activities, if his life is re-
stricted within a narrow compass, leisure is un-
profitable. If we measure progress in culture by
these standards, advances in the control of nature
and of knowledge alone are insufficient.
We have to consider also their effect upon the
participation of the individual in social life.
It is not easy to define progress in any phase of
social life other than in knowledge and control of
nature.
It might seem that the low value given to life in
primitive society and the cruelty of primitive man
are indications of a low ethical standard. It is
quite possible to show an advance in ethical be-
havior when we compare primitive society with
our own. Westermarck and Hobhouse have ex-
amined these data in great detail and have given
us an elaborate history of the evolution of moral
ideas. Their descriptions are quite true, but I do
not believe that they represent a growth of moral
ideas, but rather reflect the same moral ideas as
manifested in different types of society and taking
on forms varying according to the extent of knowl-
edge of the people.
If we restrict our considerations to the closed
society to which an individual belongs we do not
find any appreciable difference in moral ideas.
We have seen at another place that in a closed so-
ciety without differentiation in rank there is an
absolute solidarity of interest and the same moral
obligation of altruistic behavior is found, as among
ourselves. The behavior towards the slave or to
members of alien societies may be cruel. There
may be no regard for their rights. The obligations
within the society are binding. The prevailing
idea of a fundamental, even specific difference be-
tween the members of the closed society and out-
siders hinders the development of sympathetic
feeling.
We consider it our right to kill criminals dan-
" gerous to society to kill in self-defense and in war.
We also kill animals for the mere pleasure of hunt-
ing and the excitement of the chase. Exactly the
same rules prevail in primitive society. They
give a different impression, because crime, self-de-
fense, war and the killing of animals have not the
same meaning as among ourselves. A breach of
the laws regulating marriage may be considered a
heinous crime endangering the existence of the
whole community because it calls forth the ire of
supernatural powers; an apparently slight breach
of good manners may be a deadly insult.
It is true that in the life of primitive man re-
venge as a right and a duty is keenly felt and that
its form is much more cruel than our ethical stand-
ards would permit. In judging the psychological
causes of this difference we must consider the in-
finitely greater hazards of life in primitive society.
The weather, the dangers of the chase, attacks of
wild animals or of enemies make life much more
precarious than in civilized communities and dull
the feeling for suffering. The thoughtless pleasure
that children feel in tormenting animals and crip-
ples, an expression of their inability to identify
their own mental processes with those of others, is
quite analogous to the actions of primitive men.
The significance of this attitude will best be under-
stood when we compare our feeling of sympathy
for animal suffering with that of the Hindu.
While we kill animals that we need for food,
albeit without inflicting unnecessary suffering, all
life is sacred to the Hindu. We claim the right
to kill animals which we need; the Hindu extends
the right to live over all his fellow creatures.
We must compare the code of primitive ethics
with our own ethics and primitive conduct with
our own conduct. It may safely be said that the
code, so far as relations between members of a
group are concerned, does not differ from ours. It
is the duty of every person to respect life, well-
being and property of his fellows, and to refrain
from any action that may harm the group as a
whole. All breaches of this code are threatened
with social or supernatural punishment.
When the tribe is divided into small self-con-
tained groups and moral obligations of the indi-
vidual are confined to the group members, a state
of apparent lawlessness may result. When the
tribe forms a firm unit, the impression of peaceful
quiet, more closely corresponding to our own con-
ditions is given. An example of the former kind
is presented by the tribes of northern Vancouver
Island, which are each divided into a considerable
number of clans or family groups of conflicting
interests. Solidarity does not extend beyond the
limits of the clan. For this reason conflicts be-
tween clans are rather frequent. Harm done to a
_ member of one clan leads to clan feuds.
The distinction between members of a group and
outsiders persists in modern life, not only in every-
day relations but also in legislation. Every law
discriminating between citizens and foreigners,
every protective tariff that is by its nature hostile
to the foreigner is an expression of a double ethical
standard, one for fellows, the other for outsiders.
The duty of self-perfection has developed in
modern society, but is apparently absent in more
primitive forms of human life. The irreconcilable
conflicts of valuations that are characteristic of our
times and to which we referred previously are in
part absent because in simple societies a single
standard of behavior prevails. We have referred
to the freedom of the Eskimos of human control
and saw that, nevertheless, he is hemmed in on all
sides by the narrowness of his material culture, his
beliefs and traditional practices. There is no
group known to him that possesses different
standards, that presents the problem of choice be-
tween conflicting alternatives that beset our lives.
We have also referred to the social development
of the child in Samoa where the lack of strati-
fication into groups of decidedly distinct ideals
makes it exceedingly difficult for new types of
thought to develop. It does occur every now
and then that a person does not fit temperamen-
tally into his culture, as for instance a timid, un-
ambitious nobleman or an aggressive, ambitious
commoner among the Northwest Coast Indians;
but these cases are as a rule rare and it is difficult
for the individual to impress his qualities upon his
environment. Thus it happens that the ethical
duties that we feel towards ourselves, that in some
strata of our society set the duty of self-perfection
infinitely higher than that of service to the com-
munity, seem lost in the simple endeavor of every
person to come up to the standards of his society.
The actual conduct of man does not correspond
to the ethical code, and obedience depends upon
the degree of social and religious control. Among
ourselves actions opposed to the ethical code are
checked by society, which holds every single per-
son responsible for his actions. In most primitive
societies there is no such power. The behavior of
an individual may be censured, but there is no
strict accountability, although the fear of super-
natural punishment may serve as a substitute.
There is no evolution of moral ideas. All] the
vices that we know, lying, theft, murder, rape, are
discountenanced in the life of equals in a closed
society. There is progress in ethical conduct,
based on the recognition of larger groups which
participate in the rights enjoyed by members of the
closed society, and on an increasing social control.
It is difficult to define progress in ethical ideas.
It is still more difficult to discern universally valid
progress in social organization, for what we choose
to call progress depends upon the standards chosen.
The extreme individualist might consider anarchy
as his ideal. Others may believe in extreme volun-
tary regimentation; still others in a powerful con-
trol of the individual by society. Developments
in all these directions have occurred and may
still be observed in the history of modern states.
We can speak of progress in certain directions,
hardly of absolute progress, except in so far as it
is dependent upon knowledge which contributes to
the safety of human life, health and comfort.
Generally valid progress in social forms is in-
timately associated with advance in knowledge. It
is based fundamentally on the recognition of a
wider concept of humanity and with it on the weak-
ening of the conflicts between individual societies.
The outsider is no longer a person without rights,
whose life and property are the lawful prey of any
- one who can conquer him, but intertribal duties are
recognized. However these are developed, wheth-
er the tribe wishes to avoid the retaliation of
neighbors, or whether friendly relations are estab-
lished by intermarriage or in other ways, the in-
tense solidarity of the tribal unit is liable to break
down.
The important change of attitude brought about
by this expansion is a weakening of the concept of
a status into which each person is born.
The history of civilization demonstrates that the
extent to which the status of a person is determined
by birth or by some later voluntary or enforced
act has been losing in force. For most of us there
are still two forms of status that entail serious
obligation and that persist unless the status is
changed by consent of the state. These are citizen-
ship and marriage. The latter status shows even
now strong evidence of weakening. In earlier
times the status of the nobleman, of the serf, even
of a member of a guild, was fixed. In primitive
societies of complex structure the status of a person
as a member of a clan, of an age group, of a so-
ciety, was often absolutely determined and in-
volved unescapable obligations. In this sense the
freedom of the individual has been increasing.
The multitude of forms found in human society
as well as observations on the variability of human
types throw important light upon modern political
questions, particularly upon the demand for equal-
ity, upon sexual relations and upon the denial of
the right of individual property.
Anatomy, physiology and psychology of social
groups demonstrate with equal force that equality
of all human beings does not exist. Bodily and
mental ability and vigor are unevenly distributed
among individuals. They also depend upon age
_and sex. Even in the absence of any form of
organization which implies subordination, leader- |
ship develops. Eskimo society is fundamentally
anarchical because nobody is compelled to submit
to dictation. Nevertheless the movements of the
tribe are determined by leaders to whose superior
energy, skill and experience others submit. The
man, the provider of the family, determines the
movements of the household and his wives and de-
pendents follow.
It depends upon historical conditions to what
extent the powers of a leader may be developed.
In early times monarchical institutions spread over
a large part of the Old World, democratic insti-
tutions over the New World. It is common to all
forms of political organization that wherever com-
munal work had to be undertaken, recognized
leaders spring up. Among the North American
Indians who were averse to centralized political
control, the buffalo hunt necessitated strict police
regulations to which the tribe had to submit, be-
cause disorganized, individual hunting would
have endangered the tribal food supply. The hunt
and war in particular require leadership. How
far each individual must submit to leadership de-
pends upon the complexity of organization, upon
the necessity of joint action, and upon conflicts aris-
ing from individual occupations.
The assumption that all leadership is an aberra-
tion from the primitive nature of man and an ex-
pression of individual lust for power cannot be
“maintained. We have pointed out repeatedly that
man is a gregarious being, living in closed societies,
and that new closed societies are always springing
up. Almost all closed societies of animals have
leaders and in many cases a definite order of rank
may be observed. It seems probable that condi-
tions were different in the primitive horde of man.
Observations on primitive society throw an in-,
teresting light upon the relation of the sexes. Set-
ting aside for a moment that phase which is re-
lated to property rights we find everywhere a clear™
distinction between the occupations of man and
woman. The woman, being encumbered through-
out a large part of her mature life by the care of
young children, is tied to the home more rigidly
than the man. She is hindered in her mobility and
for this reason more than for anything else she
cannot participate in the strenuous life of the hun-
ter and warrior. Here also a comparison with the
life forms of gregarious animals is useful, for di-
vision of duties according to sex is not unusual.
In some species the males are protectors of the
herd, in other cases the females.
The domestic occupations of the home do not
necessarily preclude women from active participa-
tion in the higher cultural activities of the tribe.
Owing to the skill attained in their varied techni-
’ cal activities they are in some cases creative artists,
~
while the men who devote themselves to the chase
do not participate to any extent in artistic produc-
tion. Where a more complex economic system
prevails in which wealth depends upon the man-
agement and care of the produce secured by the
members of the household, her influence in social
or even political matters may be important. She
is not excluded from religious activities and acts
as shaman or priestess.
Since among primitive tribes unmarried women
are all but unknown, the position of womanhood is
practically determined by the limitations imposed
upon all by child-bearing and care of children.
Among primitive tribes the mortality of infants
is high, and the intervals between births are corre-
spondingly short. With the modern decrease in in-
fant mortality, voluntary reduction of the number
of children and the increasing number of unmar-
ried women, the movements of many women have
become freer and one of the fundamental causes of
the differentiation between the social positions of
men and of women has been removed. It is not by
any means solely economic pressure that has led to
the demand for wider opportunities and equality
of rights of men and women, but the removal of
the limitations due to child-bearing that have given
to woman the freedom of action enjoyed by man.
The cultural values produced by woman in
primitive society make us doubt the existence of
any fundamental difference in creative power be-
tween the sexes. We rather suspect that the impon-
derable differences in the treatment of young chil-
dren, the different attitudes of father and mother to
son or daughter, the differentiation of the status of
man and woman inherent in our cultural tradition,
outweigh any actual differences that may exist.
In other words, the creative power and inde-_.
pendence of man and of woman seem to me largely
independent of the physiologically determined dif-
ferences in interests and character. The danger in
the modern desire of woman for freedom lies in
the intentional suppression of the functions con-
nected with child-bearing that might hinder free
activity. Society will always need a sufficient
number of women who will bear children and of
those who are willing to devote themselves lov-
ingly to their bringing up.
Marriage is another aspect of the relation be- __
tween the sexes upon which light is thrown by the
study of foreign cultures. The customs of man-
kind show that permanent marriage is not based
primarily on the permanence of sexual love be-
tween two individuals, but that it is essentially
regulated by economic considerations. Formal
marriage is connected with transfer of property.
In extreme cases the woman herself is an economic
value that is acquired, although she may not be-
come the property of her husband in the sense that
he can dispose of her at will without interference
of her own family or herself.
Occasional sexual relations between man and
woman are of a different order and are among
many tribes permitted or even expected. In other
cases girls are carefully guarded and illicit sexual
intercourse is severely punished.
A religious sanction of marriage exists in hardly
any primitive tribe. Strict monogamy does occur
in rare cases and suggests that the sexual relations
in earliest times were not of uniform character in
all parts of the world. The binding elements in
marriage are considerations of property in which
the children who add potential strength to the
family are included. It seems likely that our view
of marriage developed from this earlier stage by
reinterpretation.
In a well balanced family with competent par-
ents permanence of matrimonial union is undoubt-
edly best adapted to the wholesome development
of the individual and of society. But not all fami-
lies are well balanced and competent, and perma-
nence of affection is not universal. On the contrary,
almost all societies illustrate fickleness of affection
and instability of unions among young people.
Unions become fairly stable only in old age, when
the sexual passions have abated. Instability is
found as much in modern civilization as in simpler
societies. Man is evidently not an absolutely
monogamous being.
The efforts to force man into absolute monog-
amy have never been successful and the tendency
of our times is to recognize this. The increasing
ease of divorce which has been carried furthest in
Mexico and Russia is proof of this. Equally sig-
nificant are the endeavors to ease the unenviable
position of the unmarried mother, the social at-
tempts to lift the undeserved stigma from the il-
legitimate child, and the claims for a single stand-
ard of sexual ethics for man and woman.
The anthropologist may not be able to propose
on the basis of his science the steps that should be
taken to remedy the hypocrisy that attaches to the
general treatment of sexual relations without un-
duly encouraging the light-hearted breaking of the
marriage bond. He can only point out that the
traditional point of view of absolute continence
until a monogamic marriage is contracted is not
enforceable, because it runs counter to the nature
of a large part of mankind. In many cases it is
accepted and followed like other social standards.
but not without giving rise to severe crises.
It is interesting to investigate the concept of
property in simple tribes. We do not know of a
single tribe that does not recognize individual
“property. The tools and utensils which a person
makes and uses are practically always his indi-
vidual property which he may use, loan, give away
or destroy, provided he does not damage the life of
his household by doing so. An Eskimo man who
would destroy his kayak and hunting outfit would
make himself and his family dependent upon the
industry of others; the Eskimo woman who would
destroy her cooking utensils or her clothing would
deprive the family of valuable property which
could not be replaced without the help of her hus-
band or other men. In this sense the control of
their property is not absolutely free. Any eco-
nomic theory that does not acknowledge these facts
runs counter to anthropological data.
The concept of property in natural resources is
of a different character. Except in the rare cases
of truly nomadic peoples, the tribe is attached to
a definite geographical area which is its property
in so far as foreigners who would try to utilize it
are considered as intruders. In simpler societies
tribal territory and all its resources belong to the
community as a whole; or when the tribe consists
of subdivisions the tribal territory may be sub-
divided among them, and mutual encroachments
are not permitted.
It is not possible to follow in the brief com-
pass of these remarks the variety of concepts of
property that develop from this primitive con-
trol, the centralization of ownership in the hands
of a favored class or of individuals, and the privi-
leges that grow up with increasing complexity of
society.
Political theories have also been built upon the
assumption that single forces determine the course
of cultural history. Most important among these
are the theories of geographical and economic de-
terminism.
Geographical determinism means that geo-
graphical environment controls the development
of culture; economic determinism that the eco-
nomic conditions of life shape all the manifesta-
tions of early culture and of complex civilization.
It is easy to show that both theories ascribe an
exaggerated importance to factors that do play an
important part in the life of man, but that are
each only one of many determinant elements.
The study of the cultural history of any par-
ticular area shows clearly that geographical con-
ditions by themselves have no creative force and
are certainly no absolute determinants of culture.
Before the introduction of the horse the western
American prairies were hardly inhabited, because
the food supply was uncertain. When the Indians
were supplied with horses their whole mode of life
changed, because buffalo hunting became much
more productive and the people were able to fol-
low the migrating herds of buffalo. Many tribes
migrated westward and gave up agriculture.
When the white man settled on the prairies, life
was again different. Agriculture and herding
were adapted to the new environment. Accord-
ing to the type of culture of the people who
occupied the prairies, these played a different role.
They compelled man to adapt his life to the new
conditions and modified the culture. The environ-
ment did not create a new culture.
Another example will not be amiss. The Arctic
tundra in America and Asia has about the same
character. Still the lives of the Arctic Indians and
Eskimos and that of the tribes of Siberia are not
the same. The Americans are exclusively hunt-
ers and fishermen. The Asiatics have domesticated
reindeer. The environment has not the same
meaning for the hunter and for the herder; but
herding was not invented owing to the stress of
environment. It is a type of Asiatic culture that
takes a particular form in the Arctic climate.
When the principal trade routes from Europe
to the East crossed the Mediterranean Sea and
vessels were of moderate size, the distribution of
trade centers, of sea routes and of available har-
bors was quite different from that found in later
times, when, owing to shifts in political and cul-
tural conditions, to new discoveries, new demands,
and in modern times, to larger vessels, the same
environment brought about new alignments, de-
cay to once flourishing cities, and increased im-
portance to others.
The error of the theory of geographic deter-
minism lies in the assumption that there are tribes
on our globe without any culture, that must learn
to adapt themselves to the environment in which
they live. We do not know of any tribe without
some form of culture and even in the times of the
older stone age, perhaps 50,000 years ago, this
condition did not exist. The environment can
only act upon a culture and the result of environ-
mental influences is dependent upon the culture
upon which it acts. Fertility of the soil has no-
where created agriculture, but when agriculture
exists it is adapted to geographical conditions.
Presence of iron ore and coal does not create in-
dustries, but when the knowledge of the use of
these materials is known, geographical conditions
exert a powerful influence upon local develop-
ment.
Geographical conditions exert a limiting or
modifying power, in so far as available materials,
topographical forms, and climate compel certain
adjustments, but many different types of culture
are found adjusted to similar types of environment.
The error that is often committed is similar to
the one that has for a long time made experimental
psychology unproductive. There is no society
- without some type of culture, and there is no blank
‘4
mind, upon which culture,—or bringing up of the
individual,—has left no impress. An immediate
reaction of the mind to a stimulus depends not
alone upon the organization of the mind and the
stimulus, but also upon the modifications that the
mind has undergone, owing to its development in
the setting of a culture.
Economic determinism is open to the same ob-
jections. The theory is more attractive than geo-
graphic determinism because economic conditions
are an integral part of culture and are closely in-
terwoven with all its other aspects. In our life
their influence makes itself felt in the most varied
forms and modern civilization cannot be under-
stood without constant attention to its economic
background.
Nevertheless it would be an error to claim that
all manifestations of cultural life are determined
by economic conditions. The simplest cultural
forms prove this. There are many tribes of hunt-
ers and fishermen whose economic life is built up
on the same foundation. Nevertheless they differ
fundamentally in customs and beliefs. African
Bushmen and Australian aborigines; Arctic In-
dians and some of the river tribes of Siberia; In-
dians of Alaska, Chile and the natives of the island
of Saghalin in eastern Asia are comparable, so far
as their economic resources are concerned. Still,
their social organization, their beliefs and customs
are diverse. There is nothing to indicate that
these are due to economic differences; rather the
use of their economic resources depends upon all
the other aspects of cultural life.
Irregularities due to individual differences in
skill and energy which may result in differences in
economic status offer an adequate explanation of
some aspects of cultural life.
Even the differences in the status of man and
woman are not primarily economic. They are
rather due to the differences in the physiological
life of man and of woman. Based on this there is
a difference in occupation, in interests and in men-
tal attitude. These in turn produce economic dif-
ferentiation, but the economic status is not the pri-
mary cause of the status of man and woman.
We may observe here that what is an effect of
differentiation, becomes a cause of further differ-
entiation. ‘This relation may be observed in all
specific phenomena of nature. A valley has been
formed as the effect of erosion. It is the cause that
in the further action of erosion the waters follow
its course. Luxurious vegetation is the effect of
a moist soil. It is the cause of retaining more
moisture in the soil. A household performs joint
work, and the joint work strengthens the unity of
the household. Leisure obtained by the preserva-
tion of a plentiful supply of food stimulates in-
- vention, and the inventions give more leisure.
‘
The interaction between the various forces is so
intimate that to select one as the sole creative force
conveys an erroneous impression of the process. It
seems impossible to reduce the fundamental beliefs
of mankind to an economic source. They arise
from a variety of sources, one of which is the un-
conscious conceptualization of nature. ‘The or-
ganization of the household is controlled in part
by the size of the economic unit allowed by the
food supply, in part by ties of association that are
established by beliefs or habits so slightly related
to economic conditions that it would require great
ingenuity and a forced reasoning to reduce them
to economic causes.
It is justifiable to investigate the intricate rela-
tions of economic life and of all the other numer-
ous manifestations of culture, but it is not possible
to rule out all the remaining aspects as dependent
upon economic conditions. It is just as necessary
to study economic life as dependent upon inven-
tions, social structure, art, and religion as it is to
study the reverse relations.
Economic conditions are the cause of many of
these and they are with equal truth their effect.
Social bonds and conflicts, concepts, emotional life,
artistic activities are in their psychological and
social origin only incompletely reducible to eco-
nomic factors.
_ As geographical environment acts only upon a
culture modifying it, so economic conditions act
upon an existing culture and are in turn modified
by it.
A final question must be answered. Can an-
thropology help to control the future development
of human culture and well-being or must we be
satisfied to record the progress of events and let
them take their course? I believe we have seen_
that a knowledge of anthropology may guide us in
many of our policies. This does not mean that we -
can predict the ultimate results of our actions. It
has been claimed that human culture is something
superorganic, that it follows laws that are not
willed by any individual participating in the cul-
ture, but that are inherent in the culture itself.
Some of the gradual changes referred to before
might seem to support this view. The increase of
knowledge, the freeing of the individual from tra-
ditional fetters, the extension of polical units have
proceeded regularly.
It seems hardly necessary to consider culture a
mystic entity that exists outside the society of its
individual carriers, and that moves by its own
force. The life of a society is carried on by indi-
viduals who act singly and jointly under the stress’
of the tradition in which they have grown up and
surrounded by the products of their own activities
and those of their forbears. These determine the
\
-~
direction of their activities positively or nega-
tively. They may proceed to act and think accord-
ing to the transmitted patterns or they may be led
to move in opposite directions. Occupation with a
thought or an invention may lead on in different
directions. Seen retrospectively they may appear
like a predetermined growth.
The forces that bring about the changes are ac-
tive in the individuals composing the social group, '
not in the abstract culture.
Here, as well as in other social phenomena, acci-
dent cannot be eliminated, accident that may
depend upon the presence or absence of eminent
individuals, upon the favors bestowed by nature,
upon chance discoveries or contacts, and therefore
prediction is precarious, if not impossible. Laws
of development, except in most generalized form,
cannot be established and a detailed course of
growth cannot be predicted.
All we can do is to watch and judge day by day
what we are doing by what we have learned and to
shape our steps accordingly.
]