Showing posts with label library. Show all posts
Showing posts with label library. Show all posts

The Nurture Assumption review

On this Mother's Day, I'd like to direct everyone's attention to The Nurture Assumption, a book by science writer Judith Rich Harris about the mistaken notion that parents have much influence on their children's outcomes in life, at least in the field of personality development.


I got the idea to review this book on this day by going to church with my mother.  Predictably, the homily/sermon focused on "what your spiritual legacy will be," with special emphasis and examples from the legacy of mothers.  Mothers were doing this and ruining their children but then improved themselves and everything was okay.  Or mothers did that and saved their children from a future of emotional and financial destitution.

It's tempting to believe these anecdotes.  Everyone seems to be able to see evidence of them with their own eyes.  As Harris states in the very title of the book, our culture's default assumption is that nurture is somehow responsible for children's outcomes.  But as Harris takes pains to point out, a lot of science is about examining our assumptions and observations in the light of testing and evidence.  And her message is that, when the evidence is examined critically, there isn't much support for the notion that mothers, or fathers, have much influence on their children's personality development.

Readers of this blog who are Paleo dieters will no doubt be familiar with Dr. Kurt Harris (no relation to the author) and his emphasis on ranking different sciences' validity in constructing dietary advice.  Epidemiology is a relatively weak way to find things out about the human body compared with studies in physiology and biochemistry.  When you, essentially, take surveys instead of doing interventional studies, you open yourself to all sorts of confounding problems creeping into your results.  Science journalist Gary Taubes points out much the same thing in Good Calories, Bad Calories.

The point of The Nurture Assumption is much the same.  Harris was an author of textbooks in developmental psychology, but after years of writing textbooks, she had started noticing problems with the research she was citing in her books.  The upshot is that, if you throw out all but the gold-standard studies in developmental psychology, it appears that most of the influence on children's development is genetic.  And the rest is not attributable to parenting styles.  She suggests, then, the non-genetic remainder is attributable to another influence--peer groups.

Her theory rests on several contentions about the brain and the course of development.  For example, she says that, contrary to the assumption that children's brains are trying to figure out how to be successful adults, they are in fact trying to figure out how to be successful children.  She also contends that it is an important part of development for the brain to be able to identify the group to which it belongs and its status within that group.  Both these characteristics make it much more likely that children identify with and look to their peer groups for their ultimate personality development rather than to their parents, who are adults and not part of their group.

Harris examines what's wrong with studies that suggest nurturing is important, reviews the evidence from more robust studies (like those of twins raised apart) but also shows how her ideas are consistent with what we know of our paleo ancestors and other hunter-gatherer groups today.

The biggest obstacle to people assessing her theories fairly is the very strong and persistent tendency people have to confuse, mix-up, or ignore correlation and causation.  The recent hullabaloo over the Mother's Day TIME magazine cover article provides a perfect example:

I was riding in the car the other day when there was a talk radio show on about attachment parenting.  The interviewer asked who attachment parenting appealed to, and the interviewee answered that many of those doing attachment parenting were people who were very concerned that their children grow up into empathetic adults.

So, let's say that these empathy-valuing parents choose attachment parenting and raise some empathetic children.  What does that prove about attachment parenting?  Absolutely nothing.  It is just as likely--actually, I suspect more likely--that empathy-valuing parents pass on empathy-valuing genes to their children.  Mixing up the effects of genetics and parenting styles would be textbook human observational error, and so in the context of the research and analysis Harris presents, I am strongly inclined to favor her theory of genes + peer influence.

good read for HCPs

I wouldn't say this book blew my mind, but I did have one of those "everything makes a lot more sense now" moments.  This is definitely a book that health care professionals should read.  In addition to specific errors the health care system has made in the past, like blaming mothers for autism, the health care system has a general stance of advice-giving to the population at large that is probably largely irrelevant when it comes to the field of pediatrics.  I'm not talking about physical disease here, but child-rearing advice.  Even if you, as an HCP, are unconvinced by The Nurture Assumption's case, it worth knowing about Harris' theory and talking a more skeptical attitude to whatever child-rearing theories you do hold.

Paleo for Geeks

There is a new book out called Fitness for Geeks, which advises intermittent fasting, resistance exercise, sleep, and meat, fruits and veggies.  In other words, a Paleo plan.

Now there is also a weight loss website for geeks and a crowd-sourced book.

(For a real Geek weight-loss book, however, check out Sayonara, Mr. Fatty!.)

Addiction for Nurses review

Addiction for Nurses seems to me a very good overview of the current (published 2010) trends in thinking about addiction in the health care field. The author is from the UK, so some of the comments he makes about professional opportunities for nurses in the field of addiction don't apply, but his foreign status also gives his writing a wider perspective.

Specifically, he addresses the theory of "harm reduction," which apparently tends to get short shrift in the US. If you work in public health, you may be familiar with this interventional modality, but as a student who went from school right into critical care, I don't ever remember hearing the term before this book. Harm reduction is a recognition that quitting addictive substances is extremely hard, and that it may be more productive to get users to change behavior related to their addictions rather than stop. In alcoholics, this might entail designated driver campaigns, while in IV drug users, it might entail needle exchanges. Simple ideas that have been tried in teh US before, but the presentation of a paradigmatic interventional strategy puts these programs in a different light and suggests others.

The book is not only about harm reduction, however. It also has chapters that can be used like a workbook to challenge the reader's assumptions about addiction and addicts. And it presents information on professional matters as well as outlining current interventional strategies for a variety of substances and summarizing the research on the effectiveness of these strategies. I had never heard of Motivational Interviewing or Brief Interventions before, either, but both are shown to work with equal or greater effectiveness compared to 12-step programs.

This is a great book for nurses to read, I think. Much of it is available as a preview at GoogleBooks.

Drunken Comportment review

In this book originally published in, I believe, the 1970s and re-issued in 2003, the authors take issue with what was then and still seems to be the widely held assumption that the behavioral effects of alcohol are due to disinhibiting of alcohol on the brain. In place of that model, they propose that behavior when drunk is learned and socially conditioned. Much of the book contains examples from around the world of cultures in which the behavior of people when drunk does not conform to our expectations of drunkenness. The book concludes with an examination of Native American alcohol abuse tries to put that in a cultural-historical context as against the widely held notion that "Indians can't hold their liquor."

While there is definitely some truth in the book, it is not a thorough success. Their cultural examinations are both interesting and informative. To give an example that does not appear in the book, the Japanese now or in the recent past had a habit of going drinking with their boss after work. During these drinking bouts, people were allowed to say things to one another that would not be acceptable in a state of sobriety. This is what the authors call a "time-out," and is the purpose they say alcohol serves in most cultures. This part of the book is very believable. There is no doubt that alcohol can serve as a "time-out."

However, the authors are also transparently at the task of blaming the conditions of Native American alcohol use on Europeans and European culture. If NA are universally violent while drunk, it is because they learned that this is how drunk people act from being around fur traders, frontier soldiers, etc. This is a thin argument. As the authors themselves point out, the violence perpetrated by drunk NA was simply perpetrated by sober NA before the introduction of alcohol by Europeans. So, what Europeans introduced was social restraint with "time-out"s for violence, a net improvement I think most people would say over constant violence.

Another problem the authors don't really address is the fact that most the alcohol "time-out"s they site from South American, Asia, and Africa are connected with cultural rituals, whereas NA would simply drink and get violent when alcohol was available. This poses two problems for the authors. First, if alcohol and rituals are connected in "time-out," is there is a reason to believe that "time-out" occurs when not connected to ritual. The experience of modern bar-goers will demonstrate that people all act very differently when drunk, and also differently when drinking alone as opposed to in groups. Is it possible that some people simply are disinhibited? Second, if there is no ritual reason for drinking, and drinking results in murders and other violence, the question arises why people would seek out alcohol.

Also, the book essentially addresses only the problem of binge or group drinking. The loner dependant who buys up his family's food and education money in booze does not fit into this model.

However, the general point that there are at least some cultural learning effects on drunken behavior is no doubt true. And that point has definite suggestions as far as public health and policy are concerned. I don't know what happened to this theory of alcohol abuse in the decades since 1980 or the years since 2003, but I think it is a good book for nurses to read. Especially those who live ethnically diverse communities where they may be dealing with alcoholics from very different cultures.

Better Angels review, part deux

I previously wrote a lengthy review of Better Angels of Nature. The following is another, shorter piece I wrote to submit to TakiMag, and I was reminded of it by reading Foseti's recent (and late) post. Although I usually enjoy Foseti's posts, I think his take on this book was weak, quite weak. In fact, as I mentioned in my longer piece, reviews of this book seemed to be dominated by people who either (1) didn't read enough or read carefully enough and (2) people who got bogged down in the minutiae of war statistics. The first is a problem because many reviewers made criticisms that Pinker addressed in the text if the reviewer had bothered to make a close reading. (For an example of a good reviewer on this score, see Steve Sailer, who mentions in his review that as he was reading, Pinker kept addressing issues Sailer had noted earlier in the book--this was my experience, too.) The second is a problem because (a) the statistics about war were vetted by other scientists and by previous presentations of this material long before the book was ever published, and (b) Pinker admits that his prediction of a decline in violent war is only a guess and he might very well be wrong, and (c) it doesn't address the core of the book's argument, which the relationship between historical forces and neuroscience. That said,


knife versus fork

In the Middle Ages, men used a dagger for everything from spearing rumps of pork to picking their teeth to, literally, cutting off the noses of their dinner companions. By the 20th century, place settings included several versions of dull, blunted knives, and good breeding included learning rules for their use. Today, an aggrieved party guest might throw down his napkin and walk away from the table, but no one fears having to recreate a scene from an Errol Flynn movie over a meal.

The development of the knife as tableware is the story Harvard psychologist Steven Pinker uses to introduce the concept of the “Civilizing Process” in his latest book, The Better Angels of Our Nature, on the decline of violence throughout history. This theory of little known sociologist Norbert Elias claims that the decline in impulsive and violent behavior since the Middle Ages (homicide down 95% since the 14th century) is due to the gradually increasing civilité needed to thrive in society.

The Civilizing Process isn't the only historical trend in Pinker’s book, but it's the one that best ties the decline in interpersonal violence to the innate human nature he documents in a host of studies on brain and behavior. People seem to be hard-wired for revenge, but also for self-control. Whether the inner angel dominates the inner demon can be influenced by the social milieu.

Why did people start down the path to giving up dinnertime dueling for the pleasantries of high table? One answer Pinker gives is the state. Knights and burghers turned into citizens who experienced more intimate state-on-man behavior. Self-regulation is more important when cops and tax collectors are ubiquitous; also when you have to curry favor with the court, or the bureaucracy.

The other answer is "gentle commerce." As the primary focus of wealth changed from farming to trade, exchange of ideas and empathetically getting inside the head of that guy haggling with you became more useful skills.

As a fan of liberty, I like gentle commerce, but it's important to Pinker for a very specific reason. The meta-narrative of Better Angels is the growing dominance of people like him—utilitarian liberals—in organizing society and how great that is. Gentle commerce is Pinker's way of projecting proto-liberalism into the pre-Enlightenment Middle Ages. You see, even before liberals existed, liberalism was working its ineffable magic on history.

In fairness to Pinker, his brand of thought isn't kooky but scientific. Before you breathe a sigh of relief, however, you need to read his account of inner psychological demons. Next to sadism, he lists ideology. We can all get behind condemning Marxism, but a closer reading reveals that by ideology Pinker means, pretty much, thoughts not derived from the lab. Some problems of the brain in Pinker's world: depression, anxiety, and beliefs.

If you doubt Pinker's antipathy to belief, just look for instances of judgmentalism in Better Angels. They occur only when Pinker discusses the "Abrahamic religions," especially Christianity. He even takes time to lecture us on the historical Jesus, pointing out the preponderance of similarities (acknowledged by Christians since the early church) to Jesus' life in pagan deities of the time--a topic totally not germane to this book.

(Of course, if there were a hundred Christian-like religions in the Roman Empire, it raises the question of why Christianity survived. One secular proposal is that Christianity simply made people better. Indeed, Julian the Apostate complained of trouble re-paganizing the Empire because Christians were such damn better neighbors than pagans.)

But not only are beliefs indefensible in Pinker's utilitarian worldview, so are values, which is why violence is central to Pinker's meta-narrative. Utilitarians can really get behind only reductions in violence and increases in consumption. In fact, Pinker basically says that MP3 players and out-of-season vegetables are his answer to Notre Dame de Chartres. The Better Angels of Our Nature is Pinker's apologia for having his set continue to sit in state at Cambridge.

If you're still unclear where Pinker parts company with other fans of gentle commerce, just turn to his chapter on children's rights. For Pinker, children stand in the same relationship to the state as adults. While this principle is probably inculcated in the law already, its logic hasn't been extended, and Pinker is all about extending logic. What happens when some day DHHS decides you have to get special permission to expose the little citizen you're raising to violence-inducing activities like Scottish Highland Games, where battles are remembered, feats of physical strength praised, and animals made to work for man?

In fact, you don't have to read the book to understand what I'm getting at, you just have to look at the portrait the author picked for the dust jacket. A Chuck Close-esque androgynous, disembodied head stares back. If it could speak, it would say "I'm sorry, Dave, I'm afraid I can't do that." In Cambridge, the alternative to the rule of diversity dogma is the rule of reasoning divorced from human aims and sensibilities.

[I had to cut some of this essay out to fit TakiMag's wordcount for article submissions. In summary, Pinker says civilization is the result of greater state control of the population and more of the commerical-financial style of thought necessary for trade. But he is completely okay with elites making laws for the sake of abstract concepts rather than people and then forcing them on the population--i.e., civilization is the result of the world moving away from humanity.]

The Civilizing Process sort of ended in the 1960s, and to find out what Pinker thinks of current culture, you have to read the book. What I thought of while reading is the history of the fork. That pronged utensil, once shunned as a symbol of devilry, is accepted everywhere. Now, whenever I see my forks and butter knives, it reminds me of utilitarian triumphalism. While I don't want any church to start dictating table manners, I'm going to make more use of my steak knives in the future.

The Reindeer People review & Khanty of Taiga

Looking for The Book on reindeer herding culture, past and present? I was, and I thought it would be Piers Vitebsky's The Reindeer People, which has a very romantic cover. Unfortunately, it wasn't quite what I was looking for, and perhaps that book can't be written anymore.
I'm not quite sure what to make of this book. It's part ethnology, part travelogue, part political journalism, and part memoir, recounting as it does scholar Vitebsky's various trips to study reindeer herding peoples in the former Soviet Union and the relationships he made there. The book contains descriptions of the herders' culture and lifestyle as well as recounting the author's impressions and reflections of his time there and the changing social and political circumstances of the people as they transitioned into the post-Soviet future.

Who is this book supposed to appeal to? It's so idiosyncratic that it feels as though it were written to be esoteric, as though its labyrinthine storylines were meant to protect the reindeer peoples' identities from all but the truly devoted reader. Where does the inspiration for a book like this come from? Vitebsky was originally a student of Classics and then ended up in India before Siberia. Is this history-memoir written on a model from antiquity or from the colonial period? Who knows.

What I was really hoping for was a book that tied the current peoples' lifestyles to any existing evidence of the archaic origins of reindeer cultures found in the archaeological record. This type of writing is more or less tied to the books' first chapter, which was fine, and could have been spun into an entire work in itself and held my interest. It's possible that there simply isn't enough information available in today's world to write this sort of book. Maybe The Vanishing Tungus is as good as it gets?

It sounds as though I'm knocking the book, but I'm not. It's not a bad book, just not what I was hoping for, and it's not without usefulness to me, either. Recommended? Meh, sure.


Khanty of the Taiga

I also picked up Khanty: People of the Taiga, but it appears to be a book very much like Vitebsky's, on the same scholarly memoir model with a lot of current politically-oriented journalistic content. So instead of reading it, I simply skimmed some sections that had information I was interested in.
I have to say that the bibliography for this book does look interesting. Like Vanishing Tungus, it has some older books on the reindeer peoples that I hadn't found in Amazon or in my university "card catalogue" searches. Worth a look if you're into this topic.

Vanishing Tungus review

Vanishing Tungus: The Story of a Remarkable Reindeer People is a juvenile book for very mature juveniles. If you can imagine, it is a sort of enthology of Siberian reindeer herders aimed at the grade school set, with chapters on family, weddings, shamanism, clan organization, art...

The author is a rather dull sounding man of the typical 1970s mold who was working on a book on Zen and Martin Buber when he died. But Vanishing Tungus is filled with rather interesting information presented in a very accessible format.

Chapters on clan organization and traditional shamanistic practices present descriptive information likely culled from rather old primary source material and probably not easily found today.

Apparently, the Tungus were pipe smokers, which seems very plausible:

"...as soon as the Tungus caught enough fish for his own needs, he headed to shore. Depositing the fish with his wife, he lay back, smoking his pipe and conversing quietly with his clansmen. The industrious Chinese were dumbfounded... He killed no more than he could eat." Reminds me of Mr. Beaver...

"She offerred him her pipe; he filled it with tobacco, passed it back to her, then filled his own. After they had both lighted their pipes with an ember from the fire, they sat back, puffing contentedly."


Here are some selections from the bibliography that I thought sounded interesting:

Atkinson. Travels in the Regions of the Upper and Lower Amoor. 1860.
Bush, Richard. Reindeers, Dogs, and Snowshoes. 1871.
Czaplicka, Marie. My Siberian Year. 1916.
Dobell, Peter. Travels in Khamchatka and Siberia. 1830.
Erman, Adolph. Travels in SIberia. 1848.
Hutt, G. "Notes on Reindeer Nomadism". Memoirs of the American Anthropological Society, 5. 1918.
Jochelson. Yukaghir and Yukaghirized Tungus. 1924-1926.
Kennan, George. Tent Life in Siberia. 1910.
Lopatin. A Cult of the Dead Among the Natives of the Amur Basin. 1960.
Minns. The Art of the Northern Nomads. 1942.

I wouldn't pay a lot of money for this book, but if you find it for cheap, it's worth a quick read.

Lords of the Animals The Tsaatan Reindeer Riders review

The Tsaatan, The Reindeer Riders is a short film by Jacques Malaterre, who also made A Species Odyssey and Ao the Last Neanderthal.

The 28-minute film covers about a day or three in the life of a single Tsaatan herder named Bat. We see him herding, hunting, cutting reindeer antlers, selling antlers to a Mongolian trader in the valley, carving, and a variety of other activities. A lot of the Mongolian Taiga is shown as well as a fair amount of reindeer.

This film looks like it was made quite a while ago. The Tsaatan did used to cut antlers as this film shows, although they have stopped doing that in order to maintain the health of the reindeer herds. Instead of cutting and selling the antlers to the Chinese as the film shows, they now collect the antlers after they've fallen off naturally, carve them, and sell the carvings to tourists. This was made possible with the help of the organization Totem Peoples.

This is a great little film and actually much more informative and intimate than the flashier productions by Hamid Sardar. Amazon has a video on demand version of this film, too, but I've never been able to get Amazon's system to work correctly.

Nature: Horses review

It turns out the Nature TV show Horses with Julia Roberts is great! Or at least it is a great window onto Mongolian nomadic life. The show can be found in two DVD collections as well as on Netflix and has online content as well.


The dates are a little confused, but it seems to have been released in the late 1990s, which would mean the Mongolian nomads featured were still living a life very similar to the one they had been centuries previous--the 1990s, though economically difficult, were a grace period between the Communists and the introduction of solar panels, western television, and consumer goods.

Although the DVD is supposed to be about Mongolian horses, it's actually mostly about Julia Roberts living with the nomadic herders. The entire first 1/3-1/2 of the show is introductions to nomadic life and habits.

As I wrote about, I was recently at a Tsagaan Sar celebration, and much of what went on at there can be seen in its native setting on this DVD--deels, snuff boxes, vodka, etc. There are quite a few really good shots of living inside yurts, and there is a good introduction to milking horses and airag, too.

And of course, there are many scenic shots of horses and of the countryside, as in this screenshot of the moon rising over the steppe.

Mongolian food, part trois: cookbook reviews

Mongolian cooking is simple. Pretty much everything you need to know can be gleaned from the few websites that are out there. But if you go to Amazon, you'll find a couple cookbooks as well. Are these worth the effort?


First is this book called Beyond the Great Wall: Recipes and Travels in the Other China. If you're fixated on Mongolia, you're probably thinking like I was of Mongolia--the other side of the Great Wall. But actually this is a collection of recipes from the Chinese periphery, including Tibet, Khazakhs, etc. The recipes aren't necessarily inauthentic, but they aren't necessarily interesting, either. The book has a lot of travel and cultural information, and it is a very large and imposing book, making it a great coffee table book or lounge chair travel guide. But Mongolian food? Not so much. There's a "Tuvan" recipe that the authors admit may not be Tuvan.


The other Mongolian cookbook available from Amazon is called Imperial Mongolian Cooking. This sounds impressive, and the cover of the book evokes rich tent life. I imagined that the author had scoured the pages of manuscripts from the period when the Mongol khans sat on the jade throne in Peking. Those northern barbarians discovered the riches of their empire and had their cooks distill it into a special cuisine available only to the emperor and his household, right? Wrong! The theme of this book is "recipes from places that used to be in the Mongol empire." Since the Mongols took over pretty much all of Eurasia, this cookbook is pretty much just a pan-Asian cookbook. And the recipes aren't anything special, either. Definitely don't waste your money. If you show it to Mongolians, they won't be impressed.


Finally, there is this listing in Amazon called "Tuvan cookbook". It fascinates me, but as it's $40 I haven't bought it yet. The layout on the cover looks awfully fancy, so I assume this book is about the dishes you'd find in Kzyzl, not in the Mongolian taiga, but you can always fantasize, right? If my Cyrillic is improving, a transliteration of the cover is "Kholu Chyumeig Avam Sonu Khlebosolnaya Yorta". I have no idea what this means, but I don't think it's Mongolian. I think maybe it's Russian, or Tuvan.

As I mentioned at the start of the post, Mongolian food is simple, and you can learn all about it online. If you like lamb, beef, noodle, yogurt, cheese, milk, and booze, you've got it covered for the most part.

Hearing Birds Fly review

Mongolia has mountains, yes. And desserts. And steppe. Wide clear blue skies. The whole lot. But it doesn't really have a specific geography to attract the traveler in its own right. The Himalayas are a very different place that would attract travelers even if they were devoid of native people. Mongolia's real attraction is that people contend with it and live a life more like that of our ancestors than many of us will experience. So in the absence of living there, the best one can do is read a book by someone who has, like Louisa Waugh's Hearing Birds Fly.
Waugh spent a year in the west of Mongolia teaching English in a small village school. There, she lived in a yurt, rode horses, chopped wood, ate meat, hunted with eagles, braved the cold and ice, survived a bubonic plague outbreak, fended off amorous men, made many friends... She inadvertently chose to live in a place where Kazakhs and Tuvans live together, meaning she was able to experience life with three of Mongolia's major ethnic groups. (The Tuvans, though ethnically related to the people of Tuva and reindeer herders, do not, however, herd reindeer in this part of Mongolia.)

Her story, or adventure, is told very well in 250 pages packed with her detailed and descriptive yet fast-paced prose. Of several books I've read by visitors to Mongolia, this is by far the best written and gives the greatest sense of a place and people. It is, in the end, a travelogue of sorts, and there is no theme, purpose, or argument other than to record life as she lived it, but that is enough.

There is material here to appeal to both those interested in health care and in ancestral life. Everyone in this book lives close to death, and there is sickness and tragedy aplenty. But as she notes the Mongolians live without sentimentality, their lifestyle is also described in a way that makes it seem appropriate and commonplace.

The book is easily recommended, although Mongolia has changed significantly I think in the short time since its publication. Even in the short time between Waugh's departure and the book's publication, her little village received electricity and a new long-term English teacher. No doubt, by today, they have at least one Internet connection.

Noted: information Banting

I thought The Information Diet looked interesting. But when I got to see a sample, I noticed that the author starts out his discussion of diets with Banting! Now I'm going to check out the book for sure.

When Languages Die review

I checked out a copy of When Languages Die by linguist K. David Harrison because of his work on the dying languages of Siberian reindeer herders.

As I mentioned yesterday in discussing the Tungus, while there are a whole range of reindeer herders with different cultures across northern Eurasia, from Finland to eastern Siberia, many of the herders north of Mongolia have cultural and linguistic similarities.

The Tsaatan Dukha reindeer herders speak Mongolian, but their "native" tongue is Tuvan, a relatively rare language of the Turkic language group, which is related to Mongolian. Tuvan is also spoken in the Republic of Tuva, nearby northwest Mongolia. Dialects of Tuvan as well as closely related separate languages are spoken by a variety of herding peoples just to the north of Tuva as well as to the south of Tuva in far western Mongolia.

Harrison's doctoral dissertation and his main focus of work is on Tuvan languages. Photos and fairly clear explanations of the languages he works with can be found in the fieldwork section of his website.

The book provides some rather interesting information about the herding peoples he works with. In an attempt to explain how different languages instantiate different types of cognition, he writes a lot about Tuvans' understanding of time and geography. These anecdotes have inherent interest to anyone trying to learn about the reindeer herders, regardless of their linguistic relevance. The book is not linguistically technical and is an easy and fast read.

Beyond the issue of cultural learning, I have to be a little less enthusiastic. Harrison has written this book as an apology for the study, documentation, and attempted salvation of endangered languages around the world. While I am all for trying to preserve forms of human flourishing and history, I am distressed that Harrison has had to fall back on pragmatic and modern arguments.

Men's natural instincts towards beauty and knowledge are adequate arguments in my mind for Harrison's work. But Harrison wants us to believe that languages are a window onto diverse forms of alternative ways of knowing. This perspective is important to him because it puts his work on par with natural sciences. If western sciences can approach nature only through their own non-universal paradigms, then we have something important and "scientific" to learn by studying other ways of knowing.

Why this perspective is important to Harrison I can't say for sure. But the tone of his book suggests that it is not what really animates him. His writing on the relationship between scientific and indigenous taxonomies is strained, overdone, and tedious. The prose becomes natural and emotional only when he discusses personal discoveries, such as the first written text of the Ös language.

Tolkien, another linguist, in creating the character of Gollum, made him a creature who had an unnatural interest in find the "roots" of mountains deep in the earth. But hobbits and dwarves also dig down in his books for buried splendors. The drive to know the past and to uncover things lost or hidden is a real motivation for many people, one in which Tolkien and Harrison both partake, I think.

That Harrison can't dabble in poetry by baring his own soul a little in defense of his field of inquiry is a statement about the state of the modern academy. Harrison's book is essentially a justification of his life's work based on its "usefulness," a pragmatic argument in line with the culture of productivity, grant writing, and lowest-common-denominator thinking that seems to dominate much of university life as far as I can tell.

The book is especially unfortunate in that the lengths Harrison goes to in showing the cognitive differences and advantages for Tuvans of Tuvan languages ultimately undermine his larger argument.

The Tofans Harrison studies have a preternatural instinct for direction and navigation. Harrison shows that this is related to their language, naming schemes, and ways of communicating. Tofan is "efficient" for knowing the land. But the stress Harrison places on the extent of Tofans' discussions about land and movement show that the cognitive resources demanded to maintain the Tofans' navigational abilities, in terms of time and focus, make the broader Tofan lifestyle extremely inefficient and parochial. The Tofans must work constantly in order to be successful at a very narrow range of skills. In short, the opportunity cost of speaking and being Tofan is the development of science and literature. Although implied, I'm sure this is not the conclusion we are supposed to come to from When Languages Die.

I'm not sure who the target audience is for this book, so I have trouble recommending it or denouncing it. I enjoyed it and sympathize with the author, but remain unconvinced that the importance of language preservation is of a kind with the importance of the human genome project.

Profiles in Ethnology review

The book Profiles in Ethnology is an overview from 1978 of hunter-gatherer and primitive agriculturalists from around the world. It contains a lot of profiles that might be of interest to those studying ancestral health paradigms, such as the !Kung, Eskimos, or Andaman Islanders. However, I was interested in it for its profile of the reindeer Tungus of Siberia.

The reindeer Tungus of Siberia are not the same people as the Tsaatan or Dukha of Mongolia and the Tuvans.

For the geographic differentiation, see the map at right: Tungus are in green and red, while the Tuvans are located in the northwest of Mongolia and in Tuva.

However, reindeer herding is sort of a trans-eurasian phenomenon across the north. As this profile points out, differences seem to be largely due to the influence of people to the south. So, for example, in the far east of Siberia, reindeer herders use the animals mostly at pack animals, while in the far west, reindeer herders (the Sami in this case) use their animals more like their southern neighbors in Scandinavia use domesticated animals.

In Asia north of Mongolia, reindeer herders have cultural artifacts similar to Mongolian ones and live a life of nomadic herding rather like the Mongolians to the south. This is true of the Tuvan peoples as well, so the Tungus and Tuvans do have some cultural connections. Their distinguishing characteristics from an anthropological perspective are linguistic. Tungusic language is a third branch of the Altaic group, along with the Mongolic and Turkic branches. Tuvan language is Turkic.

Interestingly, the word "shaman" comes from the Tungusic-Tuvan cultural heritage. The reindeer herders believe some people are priviledged with special abilities to communicate with the spirit world (e.g., ancestors) via trance states. Apparently, "shaman" came into English via Russian, as Russians had the first western contacts with these peoples.

There's not much else to say here, unless I start repeating details of Tungus culture, which you should read about in the book (only $0.01 on Amazon). Other chapters that looked interesting to me were ones on primitive Irish countrymen and on the "Kingdom of Siam," i.e. Thailand. Having been to modern Thailand, it is surprising to have "Siamese" listed among ethnologies of "primitive" people. Of course, the book is from 1978.

Again, recommended to those interested in ancestral health. Not so much for health care workers otherwise.

How to Be Black: survey says, vanilla oreo

The NYTimes has cleverly had Charles Murray and Baratunde Thurston take each others' quizzes. As I posted earlier today, Murray has a new book out on the growing class divide in the US, and I score about 2-8 out of 20 on a quiz measuring how insulated I am from mainstream Americans. Thurston has a book out called How to Be Black.

I first heard Thurston over a week ago on NPR's All Things Considered**. He's funny and quick, but his apparent posturing as something alternative and new in political punditry seems mistaken to me. It's cool that he's a black kid who got used to being black in a white private school before he got to Harvard (as he pointed out in the interview), but in the end the combination of Quaker friends school and militant black nationalism just produced another progressive racialist. As he says at the end of the NYT piece, Murray's quiz might prep him for "the revolution." This from an editor at The Onion newspaper. How many liberals are out there talking about revolutions while completely ensconced in the system? Yawn.

I might actually buy this book since I liked Thurston on the radio. Here are my answers to his questions, a la Murray:

Q. Where did you get that name?

A. My parents are of midwestern extraction and the father Scandinavian, which accounts for the last name. The middle name is the last name of one of the mother's relatives. The first occurred because the parents were newly religious at the time of my birth. Chris, as in Christian, as in little follower of Christ.

Q. When did you first realize you were white?

A. Good question. I don't remember. The first two black men I remember being aware of were Lando Calrisian and Magnum PI's sidekick TC. What I remember is not thinking of them as black, but thinking of them as idiosyncratic. Lando is such an obvious tip of the hat and misplaced in the Star Wars universe that I was aware of his origins in the modern world rather than in the internal logic of the narrative even when I was an unaware young boy.

As far as politics goes, I was thinking about skin color in high school, but I wasn't really aware of blackness until the first year of college at "Elite Eastern U". Before being a freshman, I thought that skin color was simply an issue of logic. Quotas, equal access, and such problems could be solved through reasoning. Ha!! Starting at EEU, I realized the deep, visceral, intractable nature of race problems in politics, which also, paradoxically, started me down the road to losing anxiety over the application of the "R" word. So, when did I first realize I was white? In shades of skin, before age 8; in the broader political sense, late teens.

Q. How white are you?

I had a hallmate in freshman year who was very black with stunning stories like sleeping in a bathtub at night for protection against stray bullets. And EEU prioritized admitting minority students when I was there. Other than that, I don't have much contact with minorities. My current city is very white. One friend has a minority wife, but she is not NAM. My mother is an Iowan, and I would agree with Murray that Iowa is even more white than Minnesota. Not white in the southern "we're not black" sense, but white in the midwestern "let's go down to the Schuetzen Park... wait, you don't know what a Schuetzen Park is?" sense. I read Waugh. I go to Highland Games. I don't like hot climates, desserts, jungles, etc. I'm so white that people don't realize I'm white because I seem just eccentric--I'm white beyond the ken of most whites.

Q. Do you know what an Oreo is?

A. Duh! Nobody has an inner-city hallmate at EEU without finding out what an Oreo is!

(Back to previous question: I'm so white, I'm a vanilla oreo!)

Q. Why are you wearing that black man’s jersey?

A. Murray's take on this is accurate, but frankly I'm so white that I don't own any clothes or other objects d'identity so to speak with a mimetic or cultural geneology in sports, modern music, etc. Short answer: I'm not.

Q. Have you ever wanted to not be white?

A. Yes. Some amateur pr0n of a certain type gives me anxiety. Calling the women in it sluts does not, to my mind, change any of the psychological dynamics of the situation.

Q. Can you swim?

A. Competitively for 7 years; 2.25 pool lengths underwater on one breath. However, without attending EEU, I wouldn't have been able to make sense of this question. I also like hound dogs and snow sports.

Q. How’s that postracial thing working out for ya?

A. What postracial thing? While the Bernstein soiree portrayed in Radical Chic seems dated to me now, we are not even close to one.


** Considering my last post, this is a funny statement. I was on a road trip, and NPR was the last, best option.

Coming Apart: survey results

A lot of bloggers are writing about Murray's Coming Apart, his new book about the growing class divide in American society. In a clever ploy, Murray has included in the book a survey you can take that assesses your insulation from "mainstream" America, what Murray calls being in the "bubble". It's clever because it's just the sort of thing people in the "bubble" will love--an objective measurement tool that acts as social signaling--sure to get people in the reading set to pay more attention.

Although doctors (and to a lesser extent PAs) are thought to be in the upper or upper middle classes (i.e., in the "bubble"), to a large extent they work like blue collar workers: uniforms, on their feet, nasty body fluids, etc. Clearly, nurses and other non-doctor HCPs are not in the bubble at all. So, taken as a whole, the health care industry should really be seen as part of the laboring and service-industry-oriented "mainstream" America.

That observation is not very interesting, really, given our cultural assumptions. The process of realigning health care, including medicine, as a middle and lower middle class industry is connected to its growing involvement with government and the declining importance of creative and integrative intelligence for 95% of what medicine does (which is essentially using humans as database/search functions to match up symptoms, diagnoses, and the standardized treatments recommended by medical associations like AHA). As the government becomes more and more the payer dictating terms to the doctor, the doctor becomes more and more the employee. As care becomes more and more standardized, the doctor becomes more and more the implementer, more and more like middle management rather than like an autonomous professional actor. The process of defining health care down has gone farther in the UK, where doctors in the national health service are basically wage workers with mediocre reimbursement. The end of the process will be the replacement of much of MDs' mental work by computers and much of their physical work by RNs, mid-level providers, and technicians. Then the bubble will be composed, even more, of the university, government, and finance.

I'm too cheap to buy the book, so I'll wait for the interlibrary loan service. But AEI has posted a truncated version of Murray's survey, so you can see how insulated you are from mainstream America.

I took it twice. The first time, I answered the questions with literal truth: e.g., when it asks you if you ever participated in a parade, I said yes because, when I was in high school, everyone in the band had to participate in marching band as well. The second time, I answered the questions as they apply to my current/mental life: e.g., I have no opportunity, need, or desire to be in a parade ever again, so I said no.

The first time I scored 8 points out of a possible 20...
Eight is actually quite low. I'm an Eagle Scout and grew up believing in civic virtue and responsibility. You'd think I might score higher than 8. On the other hand, I have pretty clear ideas about aesthetics derived from an upper middle class mother and university professor father. My fridge will never be stocked with domestic mass-produced beer. Nor will I be able to identify a NASCAR driver. And, despite recent posts, I don't actually read TMZ--I came across that site by accident.

The second time 'round, I scored only 4 points out of 20. And this high score came only because I answered yes to questions hypothetically: I would hunt given the opportunity... although in actuality, I don't.

Talking with SE Cupp recently, I said my dream job was to be a gentleman rancher. It rolled off my tongue whimsically, but the more I think about it, the more I think it's true.

So, in fact, I am isolated from mainstream America, although my bubble is one of its own making: I listen to Bach, but not NPR; I wear an overcoat, but denim shirts as well; I don't watch television, but I also avoid the telephone; I like alternative energy, but I'd choose uranium over wind; I dislike Palin, but I dislike Obama more; I shop at the local food cooperative, but I buy meat there and don't believe in whole grains; I despise cigarettes, but adore pipes and cigars; I want to help indigenous people maintain their lifestyles, but I generally disapprove of international NGOs; I love mountaineering, but I eschew wearing technical clothing from REI in the city. I am WP, but not SWPL.

My life raises two questions vis-a-vis this blog. Can someone in a bubble work effectively in a service-oriented industry like health care? How can someone in my line of work maintain my lifestyle?

The answer to the second question as to do with trading up. I don't really make enough money to live well, but as Guru Rao points out, by choosing to make sacrifices, you can achieve higher standards in certain facets of life. Trading up is a phenomenon directly connected Murray's book and the growing class divide.
The answer to the first question is not very easily. Although I'm fairly personable, a good listener, and ask questions freely, one can only make so much connection with patients and family when there is a large cultural gap. And frankly, it can become extremely tedious to have to go to work each day knowing that one can never express opinions to co-workers or patients without being seen as "uppity." That's actually the biggest appeal to me of the CRNA, but it's also not a good reason to pursue anesthesia. Life isn't easy. That's why you have to look for your own little platoons.

An Ear to the Chest review: flu and stethoscopes

If you work in health care, the chances are really, really good that you own a stethoscope. They are ubiquitous in hospitals (except in limited circumstances, like emergencies when you don't have yours with you) to the extent that when you walk on the unit at the start of shift, you can probably just pick a stethoscope up off a countertop (and of course wipe it down with alcohol before use). Yet I bet less than 1 in 1000 HCPs (health care professionals) could tell you anything about the history of the device. Luckily we have M. Donald Blaufox's An Ear to the Chest... and Wikipedia...
With its dubious cartoon cover and the little logo in the upper left hand corner, you would be forgiven for mistaking this for a DK Eyewitness book. But it's more serious than that. The author is a professor of medicine in NYC and has been collecting auscultation antiques. The book has 12 pages of references for 80 pages of text and photos. And there is a separate 55-page appendix of the doctor's collection with its own set of references.

If you don't have the cash to shell out for this book right now, you can simply head on over to the Wikipedia article on the stethoscope. The book and the article basically agree about the general outline of the stethoscope's development, with Blaufox giving us excruciating details of the failed designs and 19th debates over who invented what first that took place in the letters pages of journals like The Lancet.

influenza and technology

It's interesting to note that from the 1920s to the invention of electronics, the only real developments in stethoscope design came in materials. But what's even more interesting is that, prior to the Bowles-Sprague model of the 1920s, there wasn't much development in design going back to the start of the 20th century, the pre-WWI era. Between the 19th century and the 1920s, we had a world war and a massive world-wide outbreak of respiratory illness in the form of the Spanish Flu. Yet, no real developments in the primary instrument at doctors' disposal for assessing the heart and lungs. I don't really have an explanation for this, but I think it is odd.

Nice photos of antique stethoscopes can be seen at Phisick Medical Antiques and more books on antique medical devices here.

Nanook of the North review

Growing up, my mother frequently called me "Nanook of the North" when I was outside playing in the snow. I thought it was a made-up term until she recently rented this documentary, which she had seen in an anthropology class as an undergraduate.
Nanook's wife

Nanook was an Inuit who lived in the early 20th century on the Hudson Bay, not too far from where we are now as a matter of fact. Nanook of the North follows him and his family as they go about their daily lives--fishing in the ice, killing seals, building igloos, trading furs, dog-sledding across the icey expanse...

The film was early enough that this is a "silent movie" documentary. Nevertheless, it is riveting. The lives of these people were active and demanding, but they do not appear to be in discomfort or emotional distress. In fact, they seem quite happy and jolly. And the techniques and tools they employee seem quite sophisticated considering their dearth of resources.

There isn't too much else to say. People who will enjoy this film know who they are. Thumbs up!

Better Off review

On my recent cruise, I met someone from St. Louis, Missouri, and the meeting sparked my memory of reading Better Off: Flipping the Switch on Technology by Eric Brende. Brende was a Yale and MIT student who rejected technology and went to live with an Amish-type community for a year before moving to St. Louis. Better Off is the story of that experience.
So why am I writing about this book on this blog? I think it has relevance to those interested in paleo/ancestral health.

I'm aware that most of the ancestral health community is not anti-technology. If anything, the Paleo crowd seems to be especially pro-science and pro-technology. For example, John Durant's tagline, "how to live wild in the modern world," is pretty much a repudiation of Brende's back-to-the-farm-life philosophy. Some people might even accuse Brende of advocating "paleo reenactment."

And then there's the fact that the type of agrarianism Brende explores in this book as an alternative to modern life is most definitely not Paleo and is based around grain cultivation.

However, it's also true that many Paleo practitioners count Joel Salatin, a farmer, as one of their heroes. And agrarianism has some rhythms of life (up and to bed with the sun, more walking and manual labor, etc) parallel with hunter-gatherer life.

Aside from these considerations, Brende makes one specific point in Better Off that I thought was interesting and deserved repeating. His concern throughout his Year of Living Amishly is to determine just how little people need to get by. He counts his community's single most important pieces of "technology" to be its horses. Horses are used in his community primarily for turning grindstones grain and for traversing the long distances between homes created by the large-scale farming. Yet, he determines that the horses also use a significant portion of the community's cultivated grain. He suggests that the horse is actually the solution to its own problem, and that farm sizes and farm labor could be significantly reduced by simply getting rid of the horses. This is an interesting observation related to population density, which is ultimately what the rise of agriculture was about.

Regardless of what you think about the relationship of technology to ancestral health issues, you may find Better Off a good read. Brende tells his story well and earnestly. As of 2008, he was still living in St. Louis with his family and living his low-tech, low-cost lifestyle:

Brende's biggest income nowadays comes from Hermann Handmade Soap, which he makes — from his in-laws' family recipe — and his wife sells at Soulard Farmers Market. For several years soap sales doubled annually. Now the Brendes have to decide how far they want to go with the soap business. Sometimes Brende sounds like any other businessman who would like to grow — he plans to add several new products, including natural laundry detergent. But because he's "opposed to encouraging more Internet shopping," he says he has no plans to begin a website, which many would consider a must for any entrepreneur. In the summer Brende operates St. Louis Rickshaw, pedaling tourists to sites in downtown, Soulard, Lafayette Square, McKinley Heights and Benton Park. He likes the work, especially the exercise, although he could do without the occasional abusive drunk. But he admits that the money side of the rickshaw business is almost a wash. "The problem is that my rickshaw is a prototype, so it has a lot of mechanical problems," he says. "I spend a lot of time replacing parts and doing maintenance. I'm a little bit ahead of breaking even, maybe a thousand dollars a year, but it's close." For Brende, career slashing serves a larger goal of simplicity. Pace the March Wall Street Journal piece, Brende doesn't insist on a "distinct career path." Instead of identifying himself by any one of his occupations or even as a career slasher, he calls himself simply a "householder." Growing the soap business past a certain point would "betray my entire reason for living," he says. It also might put an end to one of his other fulfilling jobs — like tutoring home-schooled kids in music (he paid part of his way through Yale playing piano in bars).

Better Angels of Our Nature review

In his recent book The Better Angels of Our Nature: Why Violence Has Declined, Harvard psychologist Steven Pinker proposes that violence has declined significantly over the past few millennia and that there are reasons for this decline linked to innate human traits.

Pinker tells his story with a cumbersome organization of "six trends, five inner demons, four better angels, and five historical forces." The story is really less complex than the organization, and to the extent there is a central argument, it is more succinct than is implied. The book is divided essentially into two parts. The first is a mostly quantitative analysis showing that violence has declined in various ways since the dawn of history combined with suggestions of historical factors associated with those declines. The second is an exploration of psychological researches in the brain and behavior that demonstrate that humans are wired in such a way that the decline of violence could plausibly be connected with the historical factors.

As to a central argument simply stated, Pinker never gives one. In part, this is due to the subject matter: Pinker is too good a scientist to squeeze all of history and psychology into a single sentence. But one could say that Pinker is making the case that, because violence is almost never in one's long-term interest, the increasing use of abstraction as a basis for social organization has resulted in a decrease in violence over time. Abstraction and social organization here have to be broadly understood, from rationalization of penal systems to the spread of modern education in the developing world to the loss of identification with nationalisms among political bodies.

The book is on the whole successful because Pinker stays descriptive and is fairly honest. The available critical reviews seem to have been written by journalistic types who have perused the book rather than giving it a close reading or by math-science types who have become fixated on questions of statistical interpretation or brain science without seeing the big picture.

For example, writing in Prospect Magazine, John Gray asks why Marx is not included in Pinker's list of Enlightenment philosophers, although Pinker gives clear criteria for inclusion and says why Marx, specifically, should not be included. Gray suggests that American incarceration rates are uncivilized and undermine Pinker's contention that the removal of sources of impulsiveness and violent retribution from ghettos is "re-civilizing." However, Gray has confounded a political and emotive definition of "civilize" with Pinker's description of a "Civilizing Process," a phrase that becomes jargon in the context of Pinker's story and does justify the use of the term "re-civilizing" vis-a-vis the communities from which criminals are removed.

As for the math and science presented in the book, I defer to Pinker, a distinguished scientist, and its years-long vetting through Pinker’s presentation at conferences and in short essays. In a case like The Unsilenced Science’s criticism of Pinker’s MAOA interpretation, to my untrained eye, it appears Pinker has made an error. But it also doesn’t seem to be an error that undermines the central themes of the book. Difference in the genetic predisposition to violence across populations doesn’t show that genetic change toward non-violence is correlated with a specific timeline.

Pinker’s historical analysis might be paraphrased as the study of interpersonal, state-sponsored (I’ll say “state”), and interstate violence. Of these, the statistical analysis of and predictions for interstate violence seem to be the points that have stuck in the most craws. They are also the least interesting part of the book. As Pinker readily admits, he cannot predict the future, and his theory of innate brain tendencies allows for regression. Also, a failure to show that interstate violence had actually declined wouldn’t change the analysis of interpersonal and state violence, which are interesting in their own right.

Because of my lack of interest in the recent and current history of interstate violence, which takes up about 200 pages of the first third of this 700-page story, I’m going to ignore it. Anyhow, I think those trends, along with the other historical trends Pinker mentions, can all be collapsed more or less into the trend of the increasing dominance of the state and its increasing dominance by an increasingly intellectually homogeneous elite.

The actual linchpin of the book, or at least its most salient trend, is the Civilizing Process. I say linchpin because the Civilizing Process is the trend that most clearly and dependently is tied to the research Pinker presents on affective psychology. European rates of homicide clearly declined from the Middle Ages to the present day, by a whopping 95% according to Pinker's data. Why? Pinker prefers the theory of Norbert Elias, who proposed in a two-volume sociological work published in the mid-20th century that the increasing interdependence of social life had led to more self-restrained behavior.

Elias believed in the increasing centralization of the state apparatus, starting with the hinterlands’ focus on kingly courts, where male leisure time combined with the presence of ladies to shift focus from military skills to artistic and romantic pursuits. He also believed in changed cognitive requirements by increasing complexity of economic affairs, which Pinker calls “gentle commerce.” These two forces combined with trends like the rise of the bourgeoisie to create and spread a new psychological profile dedicated to the consideration of others and the disguise of one’s inner impulses, known in recent history as gentlemanly behavior.

Pinker calls Elias’ psychology thoroughly modern, but in actuality, I don’t think Elias and Pinker are saying quite the same thing. Elias seems to believe that violence is a form of emotional outburst that was tamed by a stiff upper lip mentality, like turning off the water to a hose. He calls the tamed impulses pleasures and says that sociologists have to get used to the idea of dealing with a changing man in their analyses. For Pinker, the brain bases of violence continue, violence is at least partly rational, and the social milieu’s effect on violent behavior is mediated through brain structures that can be damaged or fail to develop well. Is the difference important?

I think Pinker would like very much if gentle commerce, with its emphasis on mental abstraction, interpersonal exchange, and considerations of valuation rather than dominance, were the major factor in the Civilizing Process, but I think state centralization has a better claim. When Pinker examines Civilizing in the modern world, he tells us about the Enga, a tribe that went from a developed but high-violence indigenous culture, to a low-violence Australian colony, to a poorly developed and high violence post-colonialism. Tribal elders reined in violence with a civilizing offensive that included “brutal public executions.”

In the second half of the book, Pinker notes that a majority of people have murder fantasies, indicating that people make cost-benefit decisions about killing, not just that they stay their hand when upset. Also, he describes research that shows revenge--one of the prime motivations for violence--can turn on the SEEKING circuits in the brain, turning it from an impulse into a pleasurable pastime. “Revenge is a dish best served cold.” If violence is partly rational and the revenge centers in the brain are never turned off permanently, it’s hard not to believe that a person’s proximity to the state (i.e., habitual consideration) is the controlling factor for violent expression.

Obviously the phenomenon of state centralization (and here its legitimacy and competence are considered in the process) progressed forward in time. It also predated the Middle Ages. Some of Pinker’s Rousseauist critics are upset at his characterization of hunter-gatherers and great apes as violent. One reviewer complained that chimpanzee raiding parties are a result of habitat destruction. But all violence is related in one way or another to scarcity, and scarcity existed before man-made deforestation. If chimpanzees evolved to “naturally” react to scarcity in non-violent ways, why don’t they revert to those ways now?

A second historical trend Pinker examines is the Humanitarian Revolution, which accounts for the reduction in state violence in the form of witch hunts, slavery, torturous penal practices, etc. As Pinker notes, while centralizing states in the Middle Ages helped reduce interpersonal violence, they also replaced their provincial laws with Roman codes that introduced torture as part of the legal system. The state didn’t turn away from torture until the 18th century, when writers such as Voltaire took up the cause. For Pinker, it is important that Voltaire was a writer as he credits the invention of the printing press and a reading public with responsibility for humanitarian reforms. Reading opened people to “a phantasmagoria of people, place, cultures, and ideas.”

But Pinker also makes a point to tell us that the circulating libraries of the 18th century were devoted mostly to novels. This of course implies that most readers were interested in reading novels, not philosophical works on government and ethics. Indeed, although Pinker suggests that novel-induced empathy may have been important, he downplays the importance of empathy in his treatment of psychological underpinnings of non-violence. If it wasn’t a reading public per se that helped overturn harsh penalties, perhaps it was that portion of the public reading Voltaire. That is, perhaps it was the rise of a class of thinkers who interacted with each other and commingled to some extent with state actors.

Although he doesn’t say so specifically, much of Pinker’s book suggests that “we” have all gotten better, that humanity as a whole is fundamentally different from the humanity of ages past. But in fact what we see often in society is the coming and going of fads and fashions, as well as political opinion that is controlled by a relatively small number of actors at either end of an ideological spectrum. Large numbers of people can get “caught up” in movements, but for the most part, there is a mass of humanity that is swayed in its lifestyle and opinions by a minority.

Following in this line of thinking, we have to ask whether “everyone” in the Middle Ages liked torture. Although Pinker makes a point of promoting quantitative historical data, he doesn’t give us any numbers when he says that whole towns turned out to watch executions. Are we really to believe that whole towns turned out, or this a little hyperbole? Maybe a lot of people turned out. Of those, did every single one cheer the executioner? If some didn’t, might they have been horrified? Were there those who intuitively believed torture was wrong but didn’t have the intellectual tools or public support to make the case?

No, it seems unlikely that the Humanitarian Revolution and the reading revolution weren’t more about the development of a class of elites devoted to abstraction. It is the rise of these elites that has really had an impact on the direction of state violence since.

(Revised 12/9: What I mean to be saying here is that it seems to me likely there is a bell curve of attitudes to violence with Voltaire and Pinker on one end and psychopaths on the other. Voltaires probably existed in the Middle Ages, but they weren't able to form an influential block until they discovered each other and could influence opinion through the growth of reading and the attention to publications by state officials.)

The same principle applies to war. Elias quotes a knight of the 15th century to demonstrate the period’s attitude to war:
War is a joyous thing. We love each other so much in war. If we see that our cause is just and our kinsmen fight boldly, tears come into our eyes. A sweet joy rises in our hearts, in the feeling of our honest loyalty to each other; and seeing our friend so bravely exposing his body to danger in order to keep and fulfill the commandment of our Creator, we resolve to go forward and die or live with him and never leave him on account of love. This brings such delight that anyone who has not felt it cannot say how wonderful it is. Do you think that someone who feels this is afraid of death? Not in the least! He is so strengthened, so delighted, that he does not know where he is. Truly he fears nothing in the world! (Elias, p.196)
In Pinker’s book, World War I is the last war that people seem to have looked forward to. The story of disenchantment with war is pretty much the accepted story of WWI’s aftermath. But to some extent, the promotion of All Quiet on the Western Front was a function of the outlook of the dominant class in the post-war period. There were other perspectives. People like Ernst Junger experienced the war differently. Even Robert Graves fairly agrees with the 15th century knight when he praises, in Goodbye to All That, the bravery of Catholic chaplains who risked their lives to give last rites. The fact that Remarque rather than Junger is the quintessential descriptor of the War for us has something to do with the beliefs of elites on both sides of the conflict about everything from ethics to the qualities of the good life.

If the Civilizing Process was the story of the rise of the modern state and the Humanitarian Revolution the story of the rise of a new elite of thinkers, Pinker’s last historical trend, the Rights Revolutions, is the story of the dominance of those elites and the spread of their ethical reasoning not only in the state but in those institutions entwined with the state such as public education. Young people today have not only stopped lynching people of other races, they have internalized the logic of rights in all its forms. This is the basis for Pinker’s optimism about the future.

As other reviewers have noted, Pinker takes some pot shots at PC taboos and seems to roll his eyes at the campaign against dodgeball. But he also notes correctly that dodgeball is another example of the decline of violence, based in utilitarian logic, and does not distance himself even from Peter Singer and animal liberation, which most Americans have probably never heard of, such a baby of the university set it is.

The Rights Revolutions correspond in time more or less with the Flynn Effect, which receives a good showing in the second half of the book, as Pinker explains how people today can be smarter than they were in 1900 without having significantly better skills in math or language. According to Pinker, over the last century, the increasing fluency of the general public with principles of abstract reasoning has led to higher IQs and ethical norms that are smarter than the ones held at the turn of last century. For Pinker, anyone opposed to the Rights Revolutions in any form, to the extension of utilitarianism as the organizing principle of ethics, is literally mentally retarded in the present day.

People will make of this what they like. Pinker sees it as the triumph of Kantian ethics. For my own part, I don’t see the spectre of Kant in society today so much as the spectre of Rawls. When Pinker says that the attitude of his students today is “whatever, dude,” I don’t hear them channelling the categorical imperative so much as expressing a preference for other people’s attitudes towards their own behavior. The veil of ignorance.

Better Angels was released in the midst of our economic downturn and at about the same time as Peter Thiel’s critique of our structures of innovation. While no one wants to turn back the clock on the Humanitarian Revolution or see lynching become a common practice again, it isn’t clear to me that we can assume a monism of goods, that a confluence of total inclusion and all other optimal social goods is possible. The homicide rate, which Pinker uses throughout the book to estimate rates of violent crime, declined until the beginning of the 20th century, but has more or less leveled off. Somehow the “mentally retarded” people of 1900 managed a relatively safe society in which innovation could thrive.

What does the future hold? For Pinker, we have been in an upward trajectory from animality toward abstraction for a long, long time. As he correctly points out, the conservatives of today are simply the rear guard of the Enlightenment thinkers he praises rather than a real force of anti-modernity. It’s difficult not to believe that the trend of violence reduction will continue into the future, the errant bomber or dictator not withstanding. The real question is what life will look like with utilitarians like Pinker increasingly in charge. In the preface, he says that peaceful coexistence is the benefit we have from choosing “the erosion of family, tribe, tradition, and religion by the forces of individualism, cosmopolitanism, reason, and science.”

At one point, Pinker makes a snide remark about “beefcake statues of well-hung Greek warriors.” Since Greek statuary was neither beefcake nor well-hung (nor exclusively dedicated to conflict), we can assume that in fact Pinker is viscerally opposed to the presentation of the human body per se. Just as for him the fact that people have evolved to eat, enjoy, and crave meat has no bearing on the morality of meat eating, the fact that people have evolved to find beauty in bodies has no bearing on the morality of physicality. Although Pinker might find purpose, or at least drive, for his life by existing in a world of abstraction and science, it isn’t clear to me how many people can find satisfaction in the advance of science without the added advantages of dividing life between Harvard, MIT, and a house on Cape Cod. That’s not a class attack, it’s a real question about SEEKING and PLAY and the psychological limits and benefits of pacification.