Reconstructed Mesolithic roundhouse near
Northumberland, Great Britain (source: Andrew Curtis)
At different times and in different regions, humans
have entered larger social environments that are no longer limited to close
kin. Because there is less interaction with any one person and more interaction
with non-kin, correct behavior can no longer be enforced by the to and fro of
family relationships. A moral code develops, with rules enforced by ostracism and
shaming.
In Northwest Europe, the moral code is also enforced
by guilt—a form of self-shaming where the wrongdoer inflicts self-punishment even
when he or she is the sole witness to the wrongdoing. There is also a high
degree of empathy; the wrongdoer literally feels the pain of the person who has
been wronged.
When did this guilt culture emerge? Historians
usually link it to the rise of Protestantism, the expansion of the market
economy, and the emancipation of the individual from the kin group, all of
which happened—or are said to have happened—over the last thousand years. Yet
there is compelling evidence for an earlier time frame. At the dawn of history,
the peoples along the North Sea and the Baltic already had relatively loose
kinship ties, a tendency toward prolonged celibacy, and a high level of
circulation of non-kin individuals between households.
This behavioral package would enable them to exploit
the potential of later historical developments, particularly the rise of the
market economy. Back then, however, its usefulness was far from obvious. The
future seemed to belong to other peoples, and not to these barbarians on the
edge of the known world.
So how did this package come into being so long
before modernity? And why? At first, I thought the cause was the introduction
of agriculture to Northwest Europe. Only farming can create a population
density that is high enough for people to enlarge their circle of interaction
beyond that of close kin. Previously, there was only hunting and gathering, and
hunter-gatherers were just small bands of closely related individuals. That kind
of social setting has little need for either shame or guilt, a good example
being the Inuit of northern Canada:
That is, in the past, the
individual was expected and encouraged to do what he wanted, and thus had
little guilt over most acts. In fact, there was so little censure, overtly,
that one could do whatever one could get away with. But there was always the
shame — concern with what people would think. What guilt existed was very
archaic and related to oral incorporation and “bad mother” fears.
Taboo-breaking was always a problem but at least one was not “guilty,” but
simply inappropriate in his acts. That is, one had to suffer the shame of
exposing one’s inappropriate acts to the spirits as one’s inappropriate social
acts would be noted and subtly censured by friends. (Hippler, 1973)
In these simple societies, “guilt” was little more
than fear of retaliation, either from living people or from spirits. In both
cases, there was no real empathy with the person who had been wronged. Mental
anguish was produced by fear and not by any feeling of the other person’s pain.
The first
complex societies of Northwest Europe
I was therefore surprised to learn that the first
complex societies of Northwest Europe were hunter-gatherers, or rather
hunter-fisher-gatherers:
The societies of the last hunters
(and fishers and gatherers) of northern Europe appear to have evolved quickly
toward increasing complexity in the period prior to the spread of agriculture.
Complexity is defined by greater diversity (more things) and integration (more
connections). Advances in technology, settlement, and subsistence are preserved
in the archaeological record. During this period technology developed toward
greater efficiency in transport, tools, and food procurement. Settlements were
generally larger, more enduring, and more differentiated in the Mesolithic than
in the preceding Paleolithic. Food procurement was both more specialized and
more diversified-specialized in terms of the technology and organization of
foraging activities, and diversified in terms of the numbers and kinds of
species and habitats exploited. (Price, 1991)
We like to see hunter-gatherers as beautiful losers
who were steamrollered out of existence by much savvier and more numerous
farming peoples. In reality, from around 8,500 BP, these
hunter-fisher-gatherers of the North Sea and the Baltic began to achieve ever
higher levels of population density and social complexity that would put them
on a par with farming peoples farther south. They were thus able to stop the
advance of farming for two to three thousand years:
After a rapid spread across
Central Europe, […] farming communities came to a halt in the North European
Plain, leaving the coastal areas of the North Sea occupied by hunter-gatherers.
[…]
This could not have been due to
ecological conditions. The frontier extends across a uniform geographical area,
and the soils of southern Scandinavia are, in many places, light, fertile, and
favorable for cultivation […]. The reason for the delay must be sought in the
late Mesolithic communities of the region. Although regional differences exist
[…], hunter-gatherers in the southern Baltic region are likely to have had a
greater population density than central European foragers […], larger and more
permanent settlements […], and a complex economic pattern involving specialized
extraction camps, seasonal scheduling, and seasonally intensive use of specific
resources […] (Zvelebil and Dolukhanov, 1991)
These North Sea and Baltic peoples were
semi-sedentary. Most of them lived from spring to fall in large coastal
agglomerations where they fished, sealed, and collected shellfish. They then
dispersed to small inland hunting stations (Price, 1991). Johansen (2006) has
argued for a higher degree of mobility: “a number of small groups rotating
between sites on a seasonal basis within a confined territory, but perhaps
periodically aggregating at key localities.” Bang-Andersen (1996) states: “In
certain areas such as the seaboard of central West Norway, particularly
resource-rich marine and terrestrial environments may have made it possible to
stay within restricted parts of the region all the year round on a diffuse
sedentary basis.” Most areas, however, had “a permanent or semi-permanent base
camp on the coast, a certain number of extended extraction sites for seasonal
hunting, gathering and fishing activities, a larger amount of transitory sites,
and an almost indefinite number of special purpose sites or single-activity
loci.”
It was in the coastal agglomerations that Northwest
Europeans began to develop social relations in a setting where most people were
not close kin. Unlike farming communities, there seems to have been a continual
demographic turnover, with people spending part of the year in small bands and
then regrouping in much larger settlements. It was perhaps this fluid
environment that made guilt more effective than shame, since shaming works to
the extent that one continues to interact with those who have witnessed the
shameful act.
But this raises another question. How did guilt
become so dominant within these populations? What is to stop some individuals
from exploiting the guilt proneness of others while feeling no guilt themselves?
This free-rider dilemma may have been
resolved in part by identifying such individuals and ostracizing them. It may
also be that these semi-sedentary communities were conducive to evolution
of altruistic behavior, as described by Maynard Smith’s haystack model
(Wikipedia, 2013). According to this model, guilt-prone individuals are at a
disadvantage within any one community and will thus become fewer and fewer with
each generation. If, however, a community has a high proportion of guilt-prone
individuals, it will have an advantage over other communities and thus expand
in numbers at their expense. And if these communities disperse and regroup on a
regular basis, the overall proportion of guilt-prone individuals will increase
over time.
Conclusion
History is not always what we think it to be. This
is not just because of bad data. There is also the way we imagine the stages of
human progress, i.e., hunting and gathering, farming and, finally, modern industrial
society. Each stage led to the next, and it was ultimately farming that prepared
us for the modern world.
In reality, it was the hunter-fisher-gatherers of
the North Sea and the Baltic who led the way to behavioral modernity, i.e., individualism,
reduced emphasis on kinship, and the market as the main organizing principle of
social and economic life. Their mode of subsistence was not wiped out by agriculture,
unless one sees fishing as a kind of farming. They not only survived, but also
went on to create what we now call the Western World. Not bad for a bunch of
losers.
In a recent post, hbd* chick (2013) has shown how these
societies were the locomotive of sustained economic growth within Europe long
before Europeans began to expand their trade to Africa and the New World. She
quotes a study by Greer (2013):
By 1200 Western Europe has a GDP
per capita higher than most parts of the world, but (with two exceptions) by
1500 this number stops increasing. In both data sets the two exceptions are
Netherlands and Great Britain. These North Sea economies experienced sustained
GDP per capita growth for six straight centuries. The North Sea begins to
diverge from the rest of Europe long before the ‘West’ begins its more famous
split from ‘the rest.’
[…] we can pin point the
beginning of this ‘little divergence’ with greater detail. In 1348 Holland’s
GDP per capita was $876. England’s was $777. In less than 60 years time
Holland’s jumps to $1,245 and England’s to 1090. The North Sea’s revolutionary
divergence started at this time.
We can go farther back to the steady expansion of
North Sea trade from the 7th century onward (Callmer, 2002). There were external
influences here and there, but most of this growth seems to have been
endogenous, the main external influence being an international context that
made trade more and more profitable. The rest—mindset, behavior, culture—was locally
supplied.
References
Bang-Andersen, S. (1996). Coast/Inland Relations in
the Mesolithic of Southern Norway, World
Archaeology, 27, 427-443.
Callmer, (2002).
North–European trading centres and the early medieval craftsman. Craftsmen at Åhus,
North-Eastern Scania, Sweden ca. AD 750-850+, UppSkrastudier 6 (Acta Archaeologica Lundensia Ser. in 8, no. 39),
133-158.
http://www.uppakra.se/backup/docs/uppakra6/11_Callmer_U6.pdf
http://www.uppakra.se/backup/docs/uppakra6/11_Callmer_U6.pdf
Greer, T.
(2013). Another look at the ‘Rise of the West’ - but with better numbers,
November 20
http://scholars-stage.blogspot.ca/2013/11/another-look-at-rise-of-west-but-with.html
Hbd *chick (2013). Going Dutch, November 29
https://hbdchick.wordpress.com/2013/11/29/going-dutch/
Hippler, A.E. (1973). Some observations on
witchcraft: the case of the Aivilik Eskimos, Arctic, 26, 198-207.
http://pubs.aina.ucalgary.ca/arctic/Arctic26-3-198.pdf
Johansen, K.L. (2006). Settlement and land use at
the Mesolithic-Neolithic transition in Southern Scandinavia, Journal of Danish Archaeology, 14, 201-223.
http://www.tandfonline.com/doi/abs/10.1080/0108464X.2006.10590118#.UqtWBPaA2po
Price, T.D. (1991). The Mesolithic of Northern
Europe, Annual Review of Anthropology,
20, 211-233.
http://www.cas.umt.edu/departments/anthropology/courses/anth254/documents/annurev.an.TDouglasPrice1991MseolithicNEurope.pdf
Wikipedia (2013). Group selection.
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Group_selection#The_haystack_model_and_trait_groups
Zvelebil, M. and P. Dolukhanov. (1991). The
transition to farming in Eastern and Northern Europe, Journal of World Prehistory, 5,
233-278.
