In A Scientific Theory of Culture (1944), Malinowski suggested that cultural institutions develop to satisfy psychobiological needs. Singh’s own scientific theory of culture draws on an impressively broad range of research to make a similar functionalist point: culture develops to satisfy psychobiological “goals.” However, functionalism in anthropology has largely been abandoned since Malinowski’s time due to a string of criticisms that paved the way to structuralism and related approaches. Structuralism’s central insight is that we cannot explain a cultural element in isolation but only in terms of the relationships it forms with other elements in the system. For the structuralist, it is the structures of such relationships, when emerging in robust patterns, that form the key components of the cultural manifold. Lest we risk intellectual history going around in circles, it is useful to rehearse a few structuralist-inspired criticisms of functionalism and see how Singh responds to the challenge. I will keep my focus on shamanism, which for Singh functions primarily as a technology to control uncertain outcomes (see also his well-received recent book, Singh).
One of the earliest criticisms of functionalism targeted its apparent circularity: functionalism explains cultural institutions by the functions they fulfill, which are seemingly inferred from the institutions themselves (Jarvie, Reference Jarvie1964). To counter circularity, functionalists need independent criteria for these functions, but the recourse to “subjective” selection seems to pre-empt that very move. To what degree is Singh’s theory of shamanism open to the same critique?
Beyond this, structuralists would argue that functionalist analyses of individual “super-attractors” fall short of explaining the holistic nature of culture: the fact that cultures can constitute structured wholes in which disparate domains can share the same set of organizing principles (Descola, Reference Descola2014; Lévi-Strauss, Reference Lévi-Strauss1966; Otto & Bubandt, Reference Otto and Bubandt2010; Sahlins, Reference Sahlins1978). Consider, for instance, Stépanoff’s (Reference Stépanoff2025) recent analysis of Siberian shamanism, which distinguishes between the “heterarchical shamanism” of groups like the Chukchi or Koryak and the “hierarchical shamanism” common among the Tuvans and neighboring groups. In heterarchical shamanism, so-called “dark tent” rituals occur in sensory-deprivation settings with minimal imagery, where the shaman simply facilitates the participants’ active engagement with spirits. In hierarchical or “light tent” shamanism, participants passively watch a dramatic, imagery-rich performance, in which the shaman claims exclusive power of mediation with spirits.
These institutions are not simply packages of practices and beliefs for dealing with the unknown. The packages are much broader. Stépanoff was able to show that to these rival forms of shamanism correspond different forms of marriage (an institution that, on the surface, seems unrelated to shamanism). In societies with hierarchical shamanism, the groom’s family pays bridewealth, just as the community collectively supports the shaman. In heterarchical shamanism contexts, the son-in-law works for the bride’s family, just as the shaman serves individuals rather than the community. These two forms reflect contrasting understandings of autonomy – one allows delegation of responsibility, the other emphasizes individual obligation – that act as an organizing principle for the culture in question as a whole.
In anthropology, the term “attractor” has been used to refer to such structural relationships among cultural practices (Mosko & Damon, Reference Mosko and Damon2005; pace Sperber, Reference Sperber1996), which compels us to analyze these practices only as parts of larger cultural systems. Intuitively, a theory aiming to explain the near-universality of cultural institutions should also explain why they almost invariably form part of larger wholes underpinned by shared organizing principles. How, in short, can subjective functionalism explain the holistic dimension of culture?
A further issue with functionalism is its neglect of power relations within and between societies, as well as between genders, which can also manifest in robust structural patterns. Why, for example, does shamanism tend to lose its ecstatic elements as a society becomes more hierarchical and centralized? Why is spirit possession predominantly a female phenomenon in societies with high gender inequality? Why do shamans in societies where shamanism is the mainstream religion typically hold hereditary or elite status with roles tied to public morality, while in peripheral cults, shamanism attracts the downtrodden, and spirits are often amoral? (Lewis, Reference Lewis2002). It seems impossible to explain these near-universal patterns without taking into account power relations.
Singh might argue that while power relations may – albeit in significantly robust ways – shape the local expressions of shamanism, the latter remains the true super-attractor that must be explained in terms of its perceived function of controlling the unknown. However, anthropologists have also noted that power relations shape the motivation for, and the perceived utility (to use Singh’s terms) of, shamanism, depending on context. Lewis (Reference Lewis2002) has shown that shamanism and spirit possession in peripheral cults function primarily as a means of empowerment, allowing marginalized women to engage in otherwise unacceptable behaviors while attributing their actions to spirits. These are “thinly disguised protest movements directed against the dominant sex” (Reference Lewis2002, p. 26), rather than means of controlling uncertain outcomes. Power seems to be an inextricable element in the patterning of the cultural manifold.
It is also debatable whether shamanism should be conceived as a technology to control uncertain outcomes, more generally. Stépanoff (Reference Stépanoff2025) instead defines it as a “technology of the imagination,” insofar as it cultivates a dissociative capacity for mental imagery that develops universally from childhood. This capacity is neither “non-ordinary” nor primarily focused on controlling uncertain outcomes (Harris, Reference Harris2000). There is a “close relationship between shamans who travel to the moon and dreamers with their heads in the clouds” (Stépanoff, Reference Stépanoff2025, p. 27). From this perspective, shamanism does not primarily arise from “goals” but is instead an integral part of the basic human capacity for the imagination, one that certain societies nurture and certain societies repress (see Bloch, Reference Bloch2008 for a related argument about “religion”).
A final point on Fox’s “Experimental Eden” thought experiment: imagining a new human society, free of any previous cultural influence, established on a remote island, is an impossible thought experiment because culture is path-dependent and inseparable from ontogeny. We still have little understanding of our phenotypic plasticity. We simply cannot predict what the cultural manifold could evolve into under radically different ontogenetic conditions.
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In A Scientific Theory of Culture (1944), Malinowski suggested that cultural institutions develop to satisfy psychobiological needs. Singh’s own scientific theory of culture draws on an impressively broad range of research to make a similar functionalist point: culture develops to satisfy psychobiological “goals.” However, functionalism in anthropology has largely been abandoned since Malinowski’s time due to a string of criticisms that paved the way to structuralism and related approaches. Structuralism’s central insight is that we cannot explain a cultural element in isolation but only in terms of the relationships it forms with other elements in the system. For the structuralist, it is the structures of such relationships, when emerging in robust patterns, that form the key components of the cultural manifold. Lest we risk intellectual history going around in circles, it is useful to rehearse a few structuralist-inspired criticisms of functionalism and see how Singh responds to the challenge. I will keep my focus on shamanism, which for Singh functions primarily as a technology to control uncertain outcomes (see also his well-received recent book, Singh).
One of the earliest criticisms of functionalism targeted its apparent circularity: functionalism explains cultural institutions by the functions they fulfill, which are seemingly inferred from the institutions themselves (Jarvie, Reference Jarvie1964). To counter circularity, functionalists need independent criteria for these functions, but the recourse to “subjective” selection seems to pre-empt that very move. To what degree is Singh’s theory of shamanism open to the same critique?
Beyond this, structuralists would argue that functionalist analyses of individual “super-attractors” fall short of explaining the holistic nature of culture: the fact that cultures can constitute structured wholes in which disparate domains can share the same set of organizing principles (Descola, Reference Descola2014; Lévi-Strauss, Reference Lévi-Strauss1966; Otto & Bubandt, Reference Otto and Bubandt2010; Sahlins, Reference Sahlins1978). Consider, for instance, Stépanoff’s (Reference Stépanoff2025) recent analysis of Siberian shamanism, which distinguishes between the “heterarchical shamanism” of groups like the Chukchi or Koryak and the “hierarchical shamanism” common among the Tuvans and neighboring groups. In heterarchical shamanism, so-called “dark tent” rituals occur in sensory-deprivation settings with minimal imagery, where the shaman simply facilitates the participants’ active engagement with spirits. In hierarchical or “light tent” shamanism, participants passively watch a dramatic, imagery-rich performance, in which the shaman claims exclusive power of mediation with spirits.
These institutions are not simply packages of practices and beliefs for dealing with the unknown. The packages are much broader. Stépanoff was able to show that to these rival forms of shamanism correspond different forms of marriage (an institution that, on the surface, seems unrelated to shamanism). In societies with hierarchical shamanism, the groom’s family pays bridewealth, just as the community collectively supports the shaman. In heterarchical shamanism contexts, the son-in-law works for the bride’s family, just as the shaman serves individuals rather than the community. These two forms reflect contrasting understandings of autonomy – one allows delegation of responsibility, the other emphasizes individual obligation – that act as an organizing principle for the culture in question as a whole.
In anthropology, the term “attractor” has been used to refer to such structural relationships among cultural practices (Mosko & Damon, Reference Mosko and Damon2005; pace Sperber, Reference Sperber1996), which compels us to analyze these practices only as parts of larger cultural systems. Intuitively, a theory aiming to explain the near-universality of cultural institutions should also explain why they almost invariably form part of larger wholes underpinned by shared organizing principles. How, in short, can subjective functionalism explain the holistic dimension of culture?
A further issue with functionalism is its neglect of power relations within and between societies, as well as between genders, which can also manifest in robust structural patterns. Why, for example, does shamanism tend to lose its ecstatic elements as a society becomes more hierarchical and centralized? Why is spirit possession predominantly a female phenomenon in societies with high gender inequality? Why do shamans in societies where shamanism is the mainstream religion typically hold hereditary or elite status with roles tied to public morality, while in peripheral cults, shamanism attracts the downtrodden, and spirits are often amoral? (Lewis, Reference Lewis2002). It seems impossible to explain these near-universal patterns without taking into account power relations.
Singh might argue that while power relations may – albeit in significantly robust ways – shape the local expressions of shamanism, the latter remains the true super-attractor that must be explained in terms of its perceived function of controlling the unknown. However, anthropologists have also noted that power relations shape the motivation for, and the perceived utility (to use Singh’s terms) of, shamanism, depending on context. Lewis (Reference Lewis2002) has shown that shamanism and spirit possession in peripheral cults function primarily as a means of empowerment, allowing marginalized women to engage in otherwise unacceptable behaviors while attributing their actions to spirits. These are “thinly disguised protest movements directed against the dominant sex” (Reference Lewis2002, p. 26), rather than means of controlling uncertain outcomes. Power seems to be an inextricable element in the patterning of the cultural manifold.
It is also debatable whether shamanism should be conceived as a technology to control uncertain outcomes, more generally. Stépanoff (Reference Stépanoff2025) instead defines it as a “technology of the imagination,” insofar as it cultivates a dissociative capacity for mental imagery that develops universally from childhood. This capacity is neither “non-ordinary” nor primarily focused on controlling uncertain outcomes (Harris, Reference Harris2000). There is a “close relationship between shamans who travel to the moon and dreamers with their heads in the clouds” (Stépanoff, Reference Stépanoff2025, p. 27). From this perspective, shamanism does not primarily arise from “goals” but is instead an integral part of the basic human capacity for the imagination, one that certain societies nurture and certain societies repress (see Bloch, Reference Bloch2008 for a related argument about “religion”).
A final point on Fox’s “Experimental Eden” thought experiment: imagining a new human society, free of any previous cultural influence, established on a remote island, is an impossible thought experiment because culture is path-dependent and inseparable from ontogeny. We still have little understanding of our phenotypic plasticity. We simply cannot predict what the cultural manifold could evolve into under radically different ontogenetic conditions.
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