Professional Documents
Culture Documents
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archaeology tends to justify the American view that these approaches are
complementary rather than antithetical.
Both processual and postprocessual archaeology are being challenged
by other approaches. One of the most assertive of these is Darwinian or
evolutionary archaeology (Barton and Clark 1997; Dunnell 1980; OBrien
1996; OBrien and Lyman 2000; Teltser 1995). This approach seeks to explain
both human behavior and the material culture observable in the archaeological
record using the concepts of biological evolution. Its principal contributions
so far have been its freeing of evolutionary concepts in anthropology from the
assumptions of unilinearity and teleological development that were associated
with neoevolutionism. Yet Darwinian archaeology, no less than processual and
postprocessual archaeology, has become a cluster of related positions. Purists
argue that natural selection acting on individual humans is the main factor
bringing about adaptive change (Dunnell 1978, 1980). More liberal Darwinian
archaeologists see selection as acting mainly on ideas or artifacts and allow
that cognitive factors and decisions by individual humans play a significant
role in this form of selection (Leonard 2001; Leonard and Jones 1987: 214;
OBrien and Holland 1990). The latter position presupposes that innovation
and selection are not wholly separate processes, as mutation and selection are
construed to be in biological evolution (Boone and Smith 1998: S148-S149;
Cowgill 2000: 52).
Convincing evidence has been presented that both natural and conscious
selection affect human behavior, although human cognitive abilities appear to
play a major role in making conscious selection by human agents a far more
efficient, less wasteful, and more unilinear process than is natural selection.
Many species of animals can learn to avoid life-threatening incidents as a
result of personal experience, but only human beings are capable of learning
such behavior solely by admonition and instruction (Boone and Smith 1998;
Boyd and Richerson 1985; Roscoe 2002: 111-113; Shennan 2002; Snow 2002;
Trigger 1998). Long ago Kroeber (1952) argued this point eloquently and in
great detail, although his work is now generally forgotten.
Another rapidly developing approach is cognitive archaeology. It reflects an
increasing interest in the findings of cognitive and evolutionary psychology and
neuroscience concerning how innate factors influence human behavior. Basic to
this development is the belief that human thought is not simply rational but has
various built-in goals that shape human behavior. For example, arguments are
advanced that human beings are naturally predisposed to be hierarchical as well
as sociable; that they are naturally inclined to try to maximize their reproductive
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capacity; and that they can more readily solve problems relating to social and
practical matters than they can problems framed in terms of abstract principles.
It has also been proposed that different types of intelligence developed at
various stages of biological evolution and that the relatively recent interlinking
of these intelligences explains unique features of human behavior, such as the
development of art and religious beliefs (Boyd and Richerson 1985; Boyer
1994, 1996; Carrithers 1992; Donald 1991; Mithen 1996; Shennan 2002; Steele
2002). Topics such as these represent the revival of the investigation of what
nineteenth-century evolutionary anthropologists called psychic unity and to
which, instead of to technological and ecological factors, they attributed most
of the parallels in human behavior that they believed had occurred at specific
stages in cultural development. In recent years, archaeologists also have been
studying the effects on human behavior of writing and other forms of material
culture that can serve as means of external symbolic storage (Renfrew and
Scarre 1998; Schiffer 1999).
Social archaeology continues to offer new perspectives that are intended to
explain prehistoric human behavior. The most active tendency is behavioral
archaeology, which diverged from processual archaeology in the 1970s, and
in the course of doing so shed processual archaeologys preoccupation with
ecological factors as prime movers. The goals of behavioral archaeology are
to relate human behavior to material culture and explain how human beings
created the archaeological record (Schiffer 1976, 1995, 1999). In Spain, a new
generation of Marxist archaeologists seeks to use classical Marxist concepts
relating to relations of production, consumption, and power to understand the
archaeological record (Chapman 2003). Once it is accepted that the concept of
function does not inevitably preclude an interest in change (Evans-Pritchard
1949, 1962), it becomes possible to perceive considerable overlap between
what social archaeologists study as function and what moderate Darwinian
archaeologists investigate as selection. Finally, Kehoe (1998) has attempted to
rehabilitate culture-historical archaeology.
Dialogue and Contestation
In the United States, an increasing number of attempts are currently
being made to promote dialogue between various theoretical approaches in
archaeology in order to determine to what extent they are complementary and
might become the basis of more comprehensive and useful hybrid formulations.
For over a decade, many American archaeologists have argued that processual
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659; VanPool and VanPool 2003). Its discouraging of dialogue also encourages
much reinventing of the wheel by the adherents of rival paradigms.
Theory can be defined as the guiding principles that help us to make sense
of specific cases and of the world around us (Hegmon 2003: 213). Scientific
theory consists of such principles as are testable or at least supportable
using sensory evidence. More specifically, guiding principles propose lawful
mechanisms that claim to account in a generalizing manner for how things
operate and how they have come to be as we find them (Bunge 1997). Such
an approach requires a realist epistemology, which admits that not only what
can be perceived but also phenomena that are currently unobservable as well
as hypothesized processes are appropriate objects for scientific study (Bhaskar
1978). Anyone who accepts a biological evolutionary origin for the human
species must also embrace a materialist explanation of human behavior. That
does not, however, entail a reductionist approach that denies the emergence
of qualitatively unique forms of human behavior requiring their own forms
of explanation (Trigger 2003b: 133-134). Good theories lead us to look for
evidence we might otherwise overlook or underrate (Terrell 2003: 74).
High-level theory consists of the abstract rules which interrelate the
theoretical principles that are required to understand a major category of
phenomena (Bhaskar 1978; Clarke 1979: 25-30; Harris 1979: 26-27). In
archaeology, high-level theory invariably deals with propositions concerning
human behavior. Yet, as a result of recent advances in the study of material
culture, high-level archaeological theory can now be defined more specifically
as all social science theory that assists archaeologists to understand artifacts in
terms of human behavior and human behavior in relation to artifacts.
Do archaeologists really need high-level theory or would it be preferable
to try to get along without it? Relatively few archaeologists are primarily
interested in archaeological theory either in the United States or in Britain;
instead they seek to learn more about specific sites, peoples, cultures, and
forms of behavior. Traditional Baconian induction construes theoretical
understanding as being the end point of archaeological research and general
theories as something that should grow out of research. The problem with
this position is that every aspect of archaeological research is influenced by
presuppositions which constitute implicit theory. The main difference between
a deductive and an inductive approach is the extent to which archaeologists are
aware of these presuppositions. The history of archaeology provides numerous
examples of how in the past unconscious beliefs influenced practice and
interpretation in ways that reinforced racial, class, and gender stereotypes in
modern society as well as how archaeologists have been recruited and treated
one another (Conkey and Spector 1984; Leone and Potter 1988; Silverberg
1968). It is far better to try to deal with presuppositions at a conscious level than
to become their unwitting victims. Although it can never guarantee objectivity,
explicit high-level theory is essential for a mature and self-critical discipline.
The more accurately high-level theory can model human behavior and facilitate
an understanding of how material culture and human behavior relate to each
other, the more it can encourage objectivity in the analysis of archaeological
data (Trigger 1989a, 1989b, 2003b; Wylie 2002).
A separate issue is whether the processual-postprocessual debate has been
necessary? Processual archaeology developed within the context of widespread
dissatisfaction with the limitations of culture-historical archaeology. Yet
it was already well-known in the 1960s that ecological adaptation did not
account for many aspects of cultural variation, including numerous features
of subsistence patterns. Adaptations are rarely based on a perfect knowledge
of the environment and, in all but the most extreme circumstances, various
adaptive strategies can sustain a group in a satisfactory fashion (Sahlins 1976a).
Optimal foraging theory and deductive site catchment analysis rarely can
predict the precise subsistence pattern that was followed in a specific location
in prehistoric times. What I had learned as an undergraduate in the late 1950s
about geographical possibilism --the belief that, while the natural environment
imposes limitations on what human beings and their technology can do, it does
not determine specific human responses -- made it impossible for me to take
seriously all-embracing claims made by early processual archaeologists that
were based on the concept of ecological determinism (compare Meggers 1960;
Sanders and Price 1968; Struever 1968a,b and Trigger 1971). Childe (1928)
had applied the possibilist approach to archaeology long before, when he
argued that postglacial desiccation in the Middle East had probably resulted in
some hunter-gatherer peoples dying out, while other groups relocated to wetter
environments and still others invented agriculture. He also maintained that the
city-state system that developed in Mesopotamia and the divine monarchy
that had united ancient Egypt were merely alternative political strategies for
controlling larger and more productive societies.
Likewise, what anthropologists knew about the ethnography of Africa and
the indigenous societies of the Americas should have suggested that the models
of tribes and chiefdoms that were being constructed by Sahlins (1958, 1968)
and Service (1962, 1975) reflected primarily the Melanesian and Polynesian
societies with which they were most familiar. These models did not take into
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even more detailed and precise than is that of a cultural ecologist. Much
wrangling between processual and postprocessual archaeologists might have
been avoided had processual archaeologists, in conformity with their claim to
be behaviorists, accepted that what they were discussing using archaeological
evidence was whether prehistoric societies had behaved rationally in terms of
their subsistence activities and not what specific concepts were guiding their
behavior.
The diachronic expression of Childes position, and its origin, can be found
in Karl Marxs assertion that human beings make their own history... not under
circumstances chosen by themselves, but [under ones] directly encountered,
given, and transmitted from the past (Marx 1852 in Marx and Engels 1962,
I:247). Thus Marx took cultural traditions seriously, although he believed
that they could be altered relatively easily by the pursuit of cross-culturally
meaningful economic interests. Over the years, this seminal formulation has
played an increasingly important role in stimulating debates about social
science theory. Much discussion has focused on the degree of ease or difficulty
with which people can transcend and transform their cultural heritage as a
result of goal-seeking. Bourdieu (1977), by drawing attention to the role of
non-verbalized and often unconscious behavior (habitus), has emphasized the
intractable nature of our cultural heritage. There is also debate concerning the
units in terms of which such changes are best studied. While Marx preferred
to consider interest groups, which may in some cases correspond with social
classes, Giddens (1984) has stressed the role of the individual.
It is tempting to conclude from this that the development of archaeological
theory would have occurred faster and more straightforwardly had more
attention been paid to Childes later theoretical writings. In particular, a
large number of tedious and unproductive debates between processual and
postprocessual archaeologists might have been avoided. Yet I do not believe
that in reality such fast-track development would have been possible. Closely
argued, passionate, and dramatic debates are a vital part of the adversarial
approach that characterizes discourse in the social sciences. Young scholars
often initiate controversies in hopes of promoting their careers, while protracted
quarrels between established academics fascinate their colleagues. The debate
between Lewis and Sally Binford (1966) and Franois Bordes (1972) as to
whether different Mousterian industries represented tribal groups or specialized
tool-kits epitomized the rival claims of the culture-historical and processual
approaches of the 1960s and 1970s. There is, however, a down side. Kus (2000:
169) has observed that Too often the way to attention in our discipline... is to
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belief that stylistic aspects of material culture are merely passive reflections
of rule-governed behavior. They maintain that on the contrary all material
culture is actively involved in processes of social production, reproduction,
and transformation (Hodder 1982; Miller 1985; Shennan 2002: 75-77). Such
findings suggest that all traits are subject to selection, although some may
be selected to enhance cognitive coherence within a culture while others are
selected in terms of ecological adaptation. Boyd and Richerson (1985) have
demonstrated that repeated transmissions of knowledge result in selection in
favor of more useful variants of ideas as well as of ideas that better serve
collective as well as individual interests. Cultural traditions also accumulate
alternative behavioral strategies that provide individuals with ready-made
guidance for coping with variable conditions, such as good and bad crop years
or weak and strong leaders (Salzman 2000). Contrary to the belief that new
is better, most forms of knowledge that endure over long periods may have
enhanced selective value, especially from a societal point of view.
It is also questionable whether Darwinian archaeologys idea of material
culture as an extrasomatic phenotype (Leonard 2001; Leonard and Jones 1987;
OBrien and Holland 1995) has more to recommend it than has the conventional
view of material culture as a humanly constructed environment. In general,
the reductionist tendencies of Darwinian archaeology seem to ignore the
complexity and emergent novelty of human behavior as well as the conscious
and constructive role played by individual humans in the selection process.
Finally, there is considerable overlap between Darwinian archaeologys concept
of selection and the concepts of function and adapation used by processual
archaeologists. Darwinian archaeology certainly has much to offer that is of
value; yet it probably provides no more in the way of a complete theoretical
perspective than do processual and postprocessual archaeology (Schiffer
1996).
Cognitive archaeology remains in an embryonic state. Archaeologists
generally believe that behavioral patterns are likely to become biologically
embedded only if they have been selected for over very long periods;
hence, like other anthropologists, they reject the more extreme claims of
sociobiologists (Wilson 1975). For their part, cognitive psychologists and
neuroscientists know little for certain about the biological basis of human
behavior, although progess has been made in determining the genetic basis of
some features of grammar (Gopnik 1997). Are human beings naturally driven
to try to maximize the number of their biological descendants or has such
behavior, if it ever existed among other primates, been overridden in the course
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specific early civilizations. Prior to the 1990s, studies of Inka religion were little
more than recitals of superficial, ethnocentric observations made by Spanish
writers in the sixteenth century. Only recently have scholars begun to examine
more detailed colonial records and to carry out ethnographic research in order
to gain deeper insights into Andean religious beliefs (Gose 1995; MacCormack
1991; Salomon 1991). Likewise, while in the 1960s social scientists of both
Yoruba and Western origin produced excellent studies of traditional Yoruba
agriculture, economic and political organization, and warfare, detailed studies
of Yoruba beliefs, values, and worldview did not appear before the 1990s
(Apter 1992; Barber 1991). Thus a rounded understanding of each early
civilization could be achieved only by combining the findings of materialists
and new cultural anthropologists. These observations supported my initial
impression that, although processual and postprocessual archaeology are based
on antithetical theoretical positions, they are fundamentally complementary.
The environmental settings, subsistence patterns, and production and
exchange systems of the seven early civilizations I examined displayed far more
variation than neoevolutionists, such as Julian Steward (1949), had imagined.
General ecological constraints are obviously important: for example, no huntergatherer society has ever developed a monarchical form of government and
anthropologists seem agreed that no society combining these two features will
ever be found. The different agricultural systems of the seven early civilizations
represented the intensification of distinctive, separately-evolved, and locallyadapted practices that had been in place in particular regions long before the
earliest state or civilization developed there (J. Diamond 1997). Farmers had
long possessed detailed ecological knowledge that allowed them to adjust their
production techniques as population density increased and ecological conditions
changed. Much of the variation in subsistence patterns among early civilizations
therefore can be explained as adaptations to different environmental settings.
Early civilizations developed in many different kinds of environments: river
valleys in arid climates (Egypt, Mesopotamia), tropical forests and savannas
(Maya, Yoruba), highland valleys (Mexico, Peru), and temperate rainfall zones
(Shang China). The radically different natural configurations of the Nile and
Tigris-Euphrates floodplains meant that very different hydraulic regimes had
to be developed in these two regions (Adams 1981; Butzer 1976). The main
factors facilitating the development of the state were not the development
of particular agricultural regimes or forms of craft production but sedentary
life, investment in land to maintain and increase its productivity, and growing
numbers of possessions. Ralph Linton (1933, 1939) recognized long ago that
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these factors increased the need for privileged groups to ensure protection
of their property, which in turn made effective, long-term coercion by rulers
possible (Trigger 2003a: 279-337).
By contrast, only two basic types of political organization were evident
among the well-documented early civilizations I examined: city states and
territorial states. City-state civilizations consisted of clusters of small states,
each of which had a relatively compact urban center inhabited by a considerable
portion of the total population, including many farmers. The rulers of these
states exerted varying degrees of power over their neighbors and sometimes
forced rulers of weaker nearby states to pay them tribute; yet little effort was
made to micromanage the governing of subordinate polities. Territorial states
were much larger and were governed by state officials who were located
in a nested hierarchy of relatively small and often less compactly arranged
administrative centers inhabited only by rulers, civil servants, elite artisans,
and their servants (Maisels 1990; Trigger 2003a: 92-141).
Those who seek to privilege idiosyncratic variation suggest that many more
types of political organization existed in early civilizations (Cowgill 1997;
Kenoyer 1997; Maisels 1999: 186-259; Possehl 1998). Yet the documentation
supporting these alternatives is invariably weak and delineations based on it
highly speculative; hence some or all of these variations may prove as illusory
as did Eric Thompsons (1954) Classic Maya theocracies.
Some of the variation in the economic organization of early civilizations
correlates with the distinction between territorial and city states. In city-state
systems, public markets generally flourished, foreign trade was often carried
on by merchants who were relatively free of government control, and fulltime craft workers produced goods for a broad clientele. In territorial states,
elite artisans worked for the government and the upper classes, while farmers
generally manufactured and exchanged goods made from inexpensive, local
raw materials for their own use. Foreign trade was a government monopoly in
territorial states (Trigger 2003a: 338-374).
Despite claims to the contrary (Claessen and Skalnik 1978; Feinman 1998;
Marcus 1998; Renfrew 1997), these two types of early civilizations did not form
a developmental sequence nor do they correlate with different environmental
settings. Contrary to Michael Manns (1986) argument that small states were
the norm, city-state systems and territorial states appear to represent alternative
patterns that were functionally viable at the level of organizational complexity
and productivity achieved by early civilizations.
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The significant economic variation that correlates with these two political
types demonstrates the utility of functionalist approaches and also reinforces the
integrity of these two varieties of early civilizations. Whatever factors shaped
the development of early civilizations, only a few basic patterns of political
and economic organization appear to have had sufficient coherence to survive
over long periods (Flannery 1972). These findings suggest the utility of social
anthropological and materialist Marxist approaches, which both view society as
a point of departure for explaining many aspects of human behavior.
Contrariwise, elite styles of art in early civilizations provide striking
examples of cross-cultural idiosyncracy. One does not have to be a specialist
to be able to distinguish ancient Egyptian, Mesopotamian, Shang Chinese, and
Aztec art in modern collections. This accords with the generally-held belief that
specific art styles are purely cultural phenomena, unlike the capacity to produce
art, which is a ubiquitous, species-specific feature of human behavior that can
be documented as having evolved at least as early as the Upper Palaeolithic
period and is related to the human ability to symbolize (Mithen 1996). Elite art
styles tended to emerge quickly in the early stages of the development of each
civilization. Thereafter, while these styles slowly changed, their basic patterns
remained intact for long periods (Kemp 1989: 19-63; Townsend 1979). While
each civilization evolved a distinctive art style, there is no way to account for
its specific features, except by tracing its historical origins and development.
These styles were employed to symbolize and reinforce the political
coherence of states and state systems, while at the same time they affirmed
the political and economic dominance of the upper classes, who directly or
indirectly controlled the production and use of high-status goods. Carrying
out these functions required elite art styles to be internally homogeneous and
recognizably different from those of any neighboring culture. Within city-state
systems, individual states sometimes developed local variants of the elite art
style of the civilization of which they were a part in order to signal their own
identity within a broader context of shared values and upper-class alliances.
Elite styles tended to be more unified and refined in territorial states than in
city-state civilizations, because the single rulers of territorial states controlled
much more wealth and monopolized the services of the most skilled artisans,
as well as the procurement of the exotic materials that these artisans utilized.
In city-state civilizations, where full-time craft workers produced goods for a
broader social spectrum, the best quality works of art were manufactured for
hegemonic rulers, who controlled more wealth than did tributary kings (Trigger
2003a: 541-583).
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Darwinian archaeologists maintain that elite art styles are selectively neutral
(Dunnell 1978). The alternative formal possibilities are sufficiently numerous
that no two styles ever independently duplicate one another. Yet the social
functions of such art were so important that no early civilization failed to
develop its own elite style. Elite art therefore has stylistic features that are
quintessentially culturally idiosyncratic, but also social and psychological
features that must be understood cross-culturally. The stylistic unity of the elite
art produced within each early civilization also exemplifies Gellners (1982)
proposition that, in those aspects of cultures where the chief constraints on
what people do are not imposed by limited natural resources, it is necessary to
impose a symbolic order in order to render culture meaningful. With elite art,
this symbolic ordering takes the form of elaborate stylistic patterning.
One of my most surprising and potentially most controversial discoveries
was that three basic concepts underlay the highly varied religious beliefs of
all seven early civilizations. It was believed in each early civilization not
only that gods, who were, or who animated, the universe, nourished and
sustained humans, but also that, if humans did not in turn nourish deities with
sacrifices, the gods would weaken or die and the universe fall into chaos.
Thirdly, while farmers produced most of the food that fed the gods, the upper
classes, and especially kings, claimed an essential role in ritually channelling
this nourishment back into the supernatural realm. These views seem to have
represented a metaphorical projection of tributary relations that existed on the
human plane into the cosmic realm. By grounding the survival of the cosmic
order on both the productivity of farmers and the administrative and ritual
skills of the upper classes, this view also appears to have enlisted supernatural
concepts to help maintain a political balance between rulers and ruled that was
necessary for early civilizations, with their relatively rudimentary mechanisms
of political control, to survive (Trigger 2003a: 472-494; also Houston et al.
2003).
These religious beliefs constitute evidence of cross-cultural regularity
that can only tendentiously be construed as being ecologically-grounded.
Neoevolutionists generally have maintained that religious beliefs are less
determined by ecological constraints than is economic or political behavior, and
therefore that religious beliefs are more likely to take the form of selectivelyneutral cultural traditions and be cross-culturally idiosyncratic (Friedman
and Rowlands 1978: 203-205). My findings demonstrate that significant
cross-cultural regularities underlie the more specific religious beliefs of early
civilizations. These particular general regularities, which are not present in less
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complex societies, must have been invented at least several times to occur in all
seven early civilizations I have studied.
Such cross-cultural uniformities provide striking evidence that human
beings who lived in historically-unrelated early civilizations analysed social
problems in the same general fashion. Such thinking appears to have been
guided by tendencies to create similar metaphors (Lakoff 1987; Lakoff and
Johnson 1980; Tilley 1999). It was also shaped by the recognition at some level
of consciousness of a need in early civilizations to curb the personal material
and social self-indulgence of the upper classes in the long-term interest of
maintaining a collectivity on which rulers and subjects alike depended for
their survival. This sort of adaptive behavior was focused not on controlling
the natural environment but on constraining proclivities of human nature
that appear to be products of millions of years of biological evolution. Such
cross-cultural uniformity appears to be a manifestation of what has been called
psychic unity. Understanding better this aspect of human behavior requires
archaeologists to establish closer relations with evolutionary psychologists and
neuroscientists.
The most behaviorally consequential idiosyncratic beliefs of early
civilizations were about what constituted a good life. These beliefs were preeminently associated with upper-class males, but influenced how everyone
in these societies evaluated human conduct (Trigger 2003a: 626-637). Such
views, like styles of elite art, developed at an early stage in the evolution of
civilizations and persisted for long periods. They made each early civilization
a unique cultural experience in the Geertzian and the traditional humanistic
sense.
In ancient Egypt, the ideal man was an administrator who sought to please
his superiors. Such men strove to appear modest, personally unacquisitive, and
good team players. In this way, they climbed the administrative ladder (Morenz
1973: 117-123). The Mesopotamians principal ideal, like that of their gods,
was to acquire land and other forms of property and derive income from them.
Men who were successful at doing this did not have to work with their hands
but could serve on community councils, judge legal cases, and perform other
empowering community duties (Van De Mieroop 1999: 212-213). The ideal in
the Valley of Mexico was to be a successful warrior, which meant capturing
enemy soldiers for sacrifice. No hereditary noble could qualify for public office
without performing such feats, while commoners who excelled as warriors were
granted noble status (Soustelle 1961: 217-224). The Yoruba valued individual
competitiveness, but such behavior took two different forms. The warrior-
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states. Each of these city-state systems would have been significantly different
had its people embraced social values different from the ones they adopted.
The development of social values, like that of elite art styles, seems to have
been influenced by historical accidents that occurred at a formative stage in the
development of each early civilization. Yet values are not like art styles; they
influence societies in ways that are clearly not selectively neutral, as Darwinian
archaeologists understand this concept. We must therefore conclude that aspects
of ideational culture that affect societies at the same level of development in
functionally significant ways can display idiosyncratic cross-cultural variation
and that at least some features that significantly reduce the competitive ability
of specific early civilizations can persist for long periods (Hall 1986: 27-110;
Hallpike 1986: 288-371). This requires rethinking the range of strategies that
characterize cultural, ethnic, and political interaction.
Towards a Unified Theoretical Framework
The aspects of early civilizations examined above illustrate how systematic
comparative analysis can be used to evaluate archaeological theory as a basis
for trying to construct larger and more comprehensive theoretical frameworks.
Comparative studies offer an empirically-based strategy for systematically
assessing the appropriateness of specific types of explanations, the utility of
which in the past has tended to be determined on the basis of limited case
studies or ad hoc explanations supported by anecdotal evidence.
My research empirically supports rejection of claims that either a purely
ecological or a purely cultural approach can account for most of human
behavior or the archaeological record. Human behavior is both cognitively
mediated and the means by which human groups and individuals adapt to
the material world. Some aspects of human behavior must be accounted for
contingently, while other aspects are susceptible to more general explanations.
Contingent aspects often tend to be framed by more general ones; for example,
idiosyncratic art styles presuppose a pan-human capacity to produce art. Yet,
even when combined, processual and postprocessual approaches do not suffice
to explain all archaeological data.
Over millions of years, humans have evolved capacities for complex forms
of cognition and symbolically-mediated analysis, as well as hormonally-based
drives and various organic needs that constitute an internal environment to
which individuals must adapt both behaviorally and conceptually. Human
beings must cope with constraints imposed not only by their natural and
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social environments but also by their own bodies and minds. For example, the
hierarchical behavior that was pervasive in all the early civilizations I examined
went far beyond what was functionally required to process information and for
authorities to enforce the decisions that were needed to administer complex
societies. This behavior may reflect competitive tendencies that are common
to all higher primates (Conroy 1990). While overtly hierarchical behavior was
largely suppressed by gossip, ridicule, and fear of witchcraft in small-scale
hunter-gatherer societies, where generalized reciprocity made ecological sense,
these cultural mechanisms for controlling a natural tendency ceased to be
effective as societies grew larger and more complex (Lee 1990; Trigger 1990).
No substitute has ever been evolved that effectively curbs such behavior in
larger societies (Trigger 2003c).
Finally, individual human beings and groups rarely, if ever, act on the basis of
perfect knowledge and hence cannot foresee many of the consequences of their
behavior. These outcomes are influenced not only by environmental factors but
by functional constraints and selective processes, including natural selection,
of which human beings rarely are aware. Yet archaeologists must strive to
understand such processes in order to account for the forces that have shaped
the archaeological record.
While parsimony is often stated to be a desirable goal when constructing
scientific theories, theoretical economy is self-defeating if it distorts or ignores
the complexity of what is being explained. If archaeologists are to construct
a comprehensive theoretical framework, they must take account of the crosscultural regularities and idiosyncracies that relate not only to the ecological
and sociopolitical spheres but also to belief systems. A general explanatory
framework that applies to the archaeological record must also address the
biological proclivities of human beings, the emergent properties of cultural
systems, what is needed to survive in a world that exists independently of
human volition, and the complex ways in which all these factors interact. This
clearly constitutes an emergentist, rather than a reductionist, view of social
science explanation.
Cooperating to construct a comprehensive theory of human behavior
that relates to the archaeological record may result in a common theoretical
framework within which archaeologists can recognize, negotiate, and attempt
to resolve their theoretical disagreements. While it is highly unlikely that such
an endeavor will ever result in unanimous agreement, trying to construct such
a framework ought to provide stronger and more efficacious incentives to
achieve a reasoned reconciliation of divergent viewpoints than does direct
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25