If fish were scientists, suggests my colleague Timothy Allen, the last thing they would discover would be water. Fish cannot discover water because it is the context in which they are immersed. Humans have a context that is similarly intangible and obscure: culture. During socialization, a child is taught to regard a cultural order as a natural order. The context in which the child is raised thus appears normal and natural. The processes that produced the current order seem to have been inevitable. Asking a person to discern the cultural forces that produced his or her life is like asking a fish if its nose is wet. Culture influences even academics in what they choose to study, what questions they ask, and what frameworks of interpretation they use.
The target article by Gowdy & Krall (G&K) continues a long tradition in history and social science: understanding how and why societies went from undifferentiated and simple to differentiated and complex. (Complexity, in this sense, refers to differentiation and organization [Tainter Reference Tainter1988].) The study of cultural evolution has often succumbed to what I call the bias of valuing complexity. Scholars themselves were raised and socialized in a complex society, leading us to think of complexity as the inevitable outcome of cultural evolution. Cultural complexity is known in popular discourse by the more common term “civilization,” which we believe our ancestors achieved through the phenomenon called “progress.” In progressivist thought, complexity is considered intentional, something our ancestors strove to achieve (e.g., Diamond Reference Diamond1997). The concepts of civilization and progress have a status in contemporary cosmology that amounts to what anthropologists call “ancestor myths.” Ancestor myths validate a contemporary order by presenting it as a natural and sometimes heroic progression from earlier times. Thus, we tell stories of how our ancestors discovered fire, developed agriculture, invented the wheel, and subdued untamed continents.
V. Gordon Childe may be the prehistorian who has contributed the most to this mythic narrative. He wrote:
On the basis of the neolithic economy further advances could be made ... in that farmers produced more than was needed for domestic consumption to support new classes … in secondary industry, trade, administration or the worship of gods. (Childe Reference Childe1944, p. 12)
Eventually, in this line of reasoning, agricultural surpluses led to the emergence of cities, artisans, priesthoods, kings, aristocracies, and all of the other features of archaic states (Childe Reference Childe1944, p. 22). G&K have performed a valuable service in helping to undermine historical narratives that underpin this ancestor myth. They argue that complexity emerged not from human intentions, but from economic changes and enhanced energy capture in the practice of agriculture.
It takes energy to maintain a system in a state of complexity. The most important point to understand about cultural evolution is that complex societies are costlier to maintain than simpler ones (Tainter Reference Tainter1988). In organisms, complexity has a metabolic cost, measurable in calories. Among humans, the cost of complexity is measured in such currencies as work, time, and money, which are transformations of energy. We are largely unaware of this today because, to us, complexity appears to be free. We pay for it through fossil fuels. In the past, though, the cost of supporting more complex societies meant that people worked harder. The monuments of ancient societies, their wars, and their intellectual achievements were paid for by peasant agriculture. This point undermines the conventional myth that complexity (civilization) is an achievement won by hard work and ingenuity. Before fossil fuels, the cost of complexity would have inhibited its development.
How, then, did human societies become more complex? There have been two conditions for complexification. The first occurs in those rare instances when humans have abundant, inexpensive energy. Given human ingenuity, abundant energy allows complexity to grow. This is the condition described by Childe, and by G&K. Consider, though, Boulding's comment on Malthus's (Reference Malthus1798) essay on population:
Any technical improvement can only relieve misery for a while, for as long as misery is the only check on population, the improvement will enable population to grow, and will soon enable more people to live in misery than before. The final result of improvements, therefore, is to increase the equilibrium population, which is to increase the sum total of human misery. (Boulding Reference Boulding and Malthus1959, p. vii; emphases in original)
The implication is that humans have rarely had surplus energy. Surpluses are quickly dissipated by growth in consumption. So rare and transient are the occasions when humans have had abundant energy that we indicate them by terms signaling a new era: the Agricultural Revolution and the Industrial Revolution. G&K's target article addresses the complexification attendant upon food production.
Most of the time, complexity increases from efforts to solve problems. Confronted with challenges, we invent more complex technologies, differentiate economically, establish new roles and specializations, create more levels of organization, or gather and process more information. Consider the new government agencies, and the new controls on behavior, that emerged after the attacks of September 11, 2001. Or consider how pollution and oil prices spurred the development of automobiles that have two means of propulsion, where previously one was sufficient. Complexity increases to solve problems that range from mundane to existential. Complexity that emerges in this way will usually require additional energy. Complexity in problem solving compels increased resource production, including in agriculture.
This process is the energy-complexity spiral (Fig. 1). Abundant energy allows complexity to grow, but higher complexity requires still more energy. Problem solving also generates complexity, necessitating still more energy. This relationship drove ancient societies to collapse (Tainter Reference Tainter1988).
Figure 1.
The Energy-Complexity Spiral.
G&K are correct that ultrasociality suppresses autonomy. Complexity simplifies behavior. Ultrasociality and ecosystem domination, however, appeared before agriculture. Hunters often undertook ultrasocial cooperation, over large land areas, to drive game into traps (e.g., Steward Reference Steward1938). Native Californians, and other people, used fire systematically to maintain vegetation at early seral stages (Lewis Reference Lewis1973). Rather than emerging with agriculture, Occam's Razor suggests that ultrasociality has long been a human capacity.
If fish were scientists, suggests my colleague Timothy Allen, the last thing they would discover would be water. Fish cannot discover water because it is the context in which they are immersed. Humans have a context that is similarly intangible and obscure: culture. During socialization, a child is taught to regard a cultural order as a natural order. The context in which the child is raised thus appears normal and natural. The processes that produced the current order seem to have been inevitable. Asking a person to discern the cultural forces that produced his or her life is like asking a fish if its nose is wet. Culture influences even academics in what they choose to study, what questions they ask, and what frameworks of interpretation they use.
The target article by Gowdy & Krall (G&K) continues a long tradition in history and social science: understanding how and why societies went from undifferentiated and simple to differentiated and complex. (Complexity, in this sense, refers to differentiation and organization [Tainter Reference Tainter1988].) The study of cultural evolution has often succumbed to what I call the bias of valuing complexity. Scholars themselves were raised and socialized in a complex society, leading us to think of complexity as the inevitable outcome of cultural evolution. Cultural complexity is known in popular discourse by the more common term “civilization,” which we believe our ancestors achieved through the phenomenon called “progress.” In progressivist thought, complexity is considered intentional, something our ancestors strove to achieve (e.g., Diamond Reference Diamond1997). The concepts of civilization and progress have a status in contemporary cosmology that amounts to what anthropologists call “ancestor myths.” Ancestor myths validate a contemporary order by presenting it as a natural and sometimes heroic progression from earlier times. Thus, we tell stories of how our ancestors discovered fire, developed agriculture, invented the wheel, and subdued untamed continents.
V. Gordon Childe may be the prehistorian who has contributed the most to this mythic narrative. He wrote:
On the basis of the neolithic economy further advances could be made ... in that farmers produced more than was needed for domestic consumption to support new classes … in secondary industry, trade, administration or the worship of gods. (Childe Reference Childe1944, p. 12)
Eventually, in this line of reasoning, agricultural surpluses led to the emergence of cities, artisans, priesthoods, kings, aristocracies, and all of the other features of archaic states (Childe Reference Childe1944, p. 22). G&K have performed a valuable service in helping to undermine historical narratives that underpin this ancestor myth. They argue that complexity emerged not from human intentions, but from economic changes and enhanced energy capture in the practice of agriculture.
It takes energy to maintain a system in a state of complexity. The most important point to understand about cultural evolution is that complex societies are costlier to maintain than simpler ones (Tainter Reference Tainter1988). In organisms, complexity has a metabolic cost, measurable in calories. Among humans, the cost of complexity is measured in such currencies as work, time, and money, which are transformations of energy. We are largely unaware of this today because, to us, complexity appears to be free. We pay for it through fossil fuels. In the past, though, the cost of supporting more complex societies meant that people worked harder. The monuments of ancient societies, their wars, and their intellectual achievements were paid for by peasant agriculture. This point undermines the conventional myth that complexity (civilization) is an achievement won by hard work and ingenuity. Before fossil fuels, the cost of complexity would have inhibited its development.
How, then, did human societies become more complex? There have been two conditions for complexification. The first occurs in those rare instances when humans have abundant, inexpensive energy. Given human ingenuity, abundant energy allows complexity to grow. This is the condition described by Childe, and by G&K. Consider, though, Boulding's comment on Malthus's (Reference Malthus1798) essay on population:
Any technical improvement can only relieve misery for a while, for as long as misery is the only check on population, the improvement will enable population to grow, and will soon enable more people to live in misery than before. The final result of improvements, therefore, is to increase the equilibrium population, which is to increase the sum total of human misery. (Boulding Reference Boulding and Malthus1959, p. vii; emphases in original)
The implication is that humans have rarely had surplus energy. Surpluses are quickly dissipated by growth in consumption. So rare and transient are the occasions when humans have had abundant energy that we indicate them by terms signaling a new era: the Agricultural Revolution and the Industrial Revolution. G&K's target article addresses the complexification attendant upon food production.
Most of the time, complexity increases from efforts to solve problems. Confronted with challenges, we invent more complex technologies, differentiate economically, establish new roles and specializations, create more levels of organization, or gather and process more information. Consider the new government agencies, and the new controls on behavior, that emerged after the attacks of September 11, 2001. Or consider how pollution and oil prices spurred the development of automobiles that have two means of propulsion, where previously one was sufficient. Complexity increases to solve problems that range from mundane to existential. Complexity that emerges in this way will usually require additional energy. Complexity in problem solving compels increased resource production, including in agriculture.
This process is the energy-complexity spiral (Fig. 1). Abundant energy allows complexity to grow, but higher complexity requires still more energy. Problem solving also generates complexity, necessitating still more energy. This relationship drove ancient societies to collapse (Tainter Reference Tainter1988).
The Energy-Complexity Spiral.
G&K are correct that ultrasociality suppresses autonomy. Complexity simplifies behavior. Ultrasociality and ecosystem domination, however, appeared before agriculture. Hunters often undertook ultrasocial cooperation, over large land areas, to drive game into traps (e.g., Steward Reference Steward1938). Native Californians, and other people, used fire systematically to maintain vegetation at early seral stages (Lewis Reference Lewis1973). Rather than emerging with agriculture, Occam's Razor suggests that ultrasociality has long been a human capacity.