Cultural Relativism
Activity
Inquiry Question Is our understanding of the world dependent on our culture?
The image at right shows Franz Boas, proponent of the idea of cultural relativism, demonstrating a ritual of the Hamatsa group of Canada's Kwakiutl people. Since European explorers first began to travel the wider world and came into contact with peoples and places with which they were wholly unfamiliar, scholars have attempted to make sense of the diversity of human society and activity. European traditions of catholicity—that some ideas, particularly religious ones, were universally applicable— led in part to colonial attempts to stamp out native cultures and assimilate all the people of the world into European belief systems. Many believed that non-European cultures were "primitive" or "backward" in their development, with Western civilization held up as the highest form of society and culture and the arbiter of what was true and right. As science came to explain more of the physical world, scholars sought to use scientific methods to study humans and their societies, often in an effort to develop rules for cultural evolution and to determine the "progress" of various groups.
Beginning in the late 1800s, however, a generation of anthropologists began to take a different view. This new generation, led by the groundbreaking ethnologist and polymath Boas, eschewed the ends of science and took a view previously confined to philosophy—that the subjective experiences of humans were dependent at least in part, if not entirely, upon their cultural environment. In an 1887 article on museums, Boas dropped a bombshell that would forever alter antropological study when he wrote about "the dissemination of the fact that civilization is not something absolute, but that it is relative, and that our ideas and conceptions are true only so far as our civilization goes." The field of cultural anthropology, the study of diverse cultures and worldviews on their own terms, developed from this seed, and today students the world over face the same question that Boas once asked himself: Is our understanding of the world around us dependent on our culture?
Background Information
Social Sciences The roots of the modern discipline of anthropology lie in the latter half of the 19th century, a time when the methods and aims of science were being applied to a diversity of subjects in an effort to establish the degree of certitude afforded to natural sciences like physics, biology, and chemistry. Essentially, it was thought that if scientific advances in physics could lead to engineering feats like suspension bridges and skyscrapers, then similar advances in the understanding of the human world should lead to more appropriate policies concerning society, government, and human endeavors. This followed the mid-19th century development of positivism—a term popularized by French philosopher and pioneering sociologist Auguste Comte—and "social sciences" began to emerge and grow in popularity. Earlier descriptions of non-Western peoples by travelers, missionaries, explorers, and scholars tended to be deductive—that is, conclusions were drawn logically by comparing particular evidence with one's existing assumptions, making judgments about specific things depending on larger preexisting judgments about their nature and place. In the positivist tradition of the social sciences, however, the first formal anthropologists hoped to use inductive reasoning—whereby conclusions are based upon observations of specific instances that may produce patterns that can be used to formulate more general rules—to uncover universal laws about societies and the human condition. Among the social sciences, the discipline of anthropology began to emerge as a positivist "study of man," particularly in the United Kingdom and United States.
Anthropologists of the late 19th and early 20th centuries undertook efforts to study, measure, document, and compare the various people of the world. Many early efforts were concerned primarily with laying the foundations for inductive study by performing fieldwork among various peoples around the world who were not well understood by Western scholars, gathering all sorts of data, from physical measurements of body parts to descriptions of their dress, customs, and living arrangements. Sociologists of the time, including important thinkers like émile Durkheim and Herbert Spencer, often used such data to explain and classify human societies based upon ideas from biology, describing them as repeating the sorts of functions, composition, and evolution observed in the natural world. At the same time, other scholars used the data to develop theories of societal evolution based upon the influential ideas of Charles Darwin, in some cases promoting a scientific racism that held physical and cultural differences to indicate the natural inferiority of certain groups. These ideas influenced, and were at times furthered by, many anthropologists of the era. Anthropology was thus intimately tied to both sociology and the natural sciences, and adopted elements of both; in fact, there was so much overlap that it is often difficult to differentiate them.
Building upon a general notion of societal evolution that had been popular since the 18th century and was bolstered by analogy to Darwinian evolution, it became increasingly fashionable to hold that human societies progress through a series of stages, from simple to complex, according to a variety of factors. Among the implications of this theory was that smaller, more exotic societies were evolutionarily backward or primitive and that Western society was superior in its more highly evolved complexities; in a sense, it was held that the relationship between the society and lifestyle of a British industrialist and that of a Papuan tribesman was akin to that between a human and a chimpanzee (or perhaps Cro Magnon man and Australopithecus). Armed with such conceptions, colonialism became a noble undertaking—the "White Man's Burden," as famously put by British author Rudyard Kipling in his 1899 poem by the same name— whereby Europeans "bettered" the "primitive" peoples of the world by introducing them to European ways and ideas. Such undertakings were further fueled by scientific racism sometimes based upon anthropologists' data.
Yet anthropological fieldwork also led to the evolution of the idea of culture. Once defined as the trappings of high civilization and set apart as a distinguishing factor between highly evolved societies and primitive ones, culture came to be defined more broadly by anthropologists as the collection of all customs and beliefs held by a particular group. U.S. anthropologist Lewis Henry Morgan and his British colleague Edward Burnett Tylor utilized this broader idea of culture to put forward theories of societal and cultural evolution, incorporating technology, religion, law, art, medical practices, and many other customs into their analyses. What emerged was a concept of culture as an all-encompassing summary of the many facets of life within a group. Various cultures could be compared, and many early anthropologists did just that, fashioning a comparative method that led rather directly to ideas of cultural evolution and progress. It was thought that anthropologists and sociologists could discover laws about societies and their evolution by comparing cultural data from groups across the world and finding patterns that would indicate the trajectory of that evolution.
The German-American anthropologist Franz Boas was among the first to openly question the comparative method. Boas believed that cultures were not necessarily comparable; in a sense, he found that comparing two unrelated cultures was like comparing two unrelated fruits—one can learn little about pineapples by examining apples, and it would be wrong to assume that an apple is just a primitive pineapple because the pineapple is larger and more apparently complex. Instead of the comparative method, Boas preferred a method, similar to that popular among historians at the time, that prioritized unbiased description placed within its proper context and discarded the need for laws governing general societal or cultural evolution. Eventually, Boas came to espouse an idea now known as cultural relativism, the cornerstone of which was the concept that a culture must be understood on its own terms, not as part of a larger theory or in relation to another culture. In order to perform ethnographic fieldwork properly, it was thus necessary for anthropologists to immerse themselves as much as possible in the culture they were studying. In this tradition, fieldwork was to be less like scientific labwork and more like method acting.
Boas proved to be enormously influential in the United States, and an entire generation of American anthropologists studied under him or one of his early protégés; he directly taught such important figures as Alfred Kroeber, Robert Lowie, Edward Sapir, Ruth Benedict, and Margaret Mead. Since this was also the formative period for many U.S. universities, these disciples founded and populated anthropology programs throughout the country and institutionalized their methods. Other anthropologists—notably the Englishman A.R. Radcliffe-Brown— attempted to salvage the scientific and comparative aspects of anthropology by focusing on analyses and taxonomies of cultural systems, but by the 1960s the original positivist ideal was maligned by most anthropologists. Today, the methods of cultural anthropology (or social anthropology in the United Kingdom) are still primarily based upon ideas of cultural relativism, and it is commonly taught that unbiased, context-sensitive work should be at the heart of anthropological endeavors. Each society presents its own subject matter, to be examined and conveyed to members of other societies and cultural groups, and the popularization of both the methods and results of anthropological work have allowed for a wider understanding of the true diversity of humankind.
Evan Brown
MLA Citation: Brown, Evan. "Social Sciences." World Geography: Understanding a Changing World, ABC-CLIO, 2021, worldgeography.abc-clio.com/Search/Display/1346358. Accessed 4 Oct. 2021. Source
Commentary
Excerpt from "The Mind of Primitive Man" (1901)
The activities of the mind manifest themselves in thoughts and actions, and exhibit an infinite variety of form among the peoples of the world. In order to understand these clearly, the student must endeavor to divest himself entirely of opinions and emotions based upon the peculiar social environment into which he is born. He must adapt his own mind, so far as feasible, to that of the people whom he is studying. The more successful he is in freeing himself from the bias based on the group of ideas that constitute the civilization in which he lives, the more successful he will be in interpreting the beliefs and actions of man. He must follow lines of thought that are new to him. He must participate in new emotions, and understand how, under unwonted conditions, both lead to actions. Beliefs, customs, and the response of the individual to the events of daily life, give us ample opportunity to observe the manifestations of the mind of man under varying conditions. . . .
In our own community a mass of observations and of thoughts is transmitted to the child. These thoughts are the result of careful observation and speculation of our present and of past generations; but they are transmitted to most individuals as traditional matter, much the same as folklore. The child associates new perceptions with this whole mass of traditional material, and interprets his observations by its means. I believe it is a mistake to assume that the interpretation made by each civilized individual is a complete logical process. We associate a phenomenon with a number of known facts, the interpretations of which are assumed as known, and we are satisfied with the reduction of a new fact to these previously known facts. For instance, if the average individual hears of the explosion of a previously unknown chemical, he is satisfied to reason that certain materials are known to have the property of exploding under proper conditions, and that consequently the unknown substance has the same quality. . . .
The instruction given to the child of primitive man is not based on centuries of experimentation, but consists of the crude experience of generations. When a new experience enters the mind of primitive man, the same process which we observe among civilized man brings about an entirely different series of associations, and therefore results in a different type of explanation. A sudden explosion will associate itself in his mind, perhaps, with tales which he has heard in regard to the mythical history of the world, and consequently will be accompanied by superstitious fear. When we recognize that, neither among civilized man nor among primitive man, the average individual carries to completion the attempt at causal explanation of phenomena, but carries it only so far as to amalgamate it with other previously known facts, we recognize that the result of the whole process depends entirely upon the character of the traditional material: herein lies the immense importance of folklore in determining the mode of thought. Herein lies particularly the enormous influence of current philosophic opinion upon the masses of the people, and herein lies the influence of the dominant scientific theory upon the character of scientific work.
It would be in vain to try to understand the development of modern science without an intelligent understanding of modern philosophy; it would be in vain to try to understand the history of medieval science without an intelligent knowledge of medieval theology; and so it is in vain to try to understand primitive science without an intelligent knowledge of primitive mythology. Mythology, theology and philosophy are different terms for the same influences which shape the current of human thought, and which determine the character of the attempts of man to explain the phenomena of nature. To primitive man—who has been taught to consider the heavenly orbs as animate beings, who sees in every animal a being more powerful than man, to whom the mountains, trees and stones are endowed with life—explanations of phenomena will suggest themselves entirely different from those to which we are accustomed, since we base our conclusions upon the existence of matter and force as bringing about the observed results. If we do not consider it possible to explain the whole range of phenomena as the result of matter and force alone, all our explanations of natural phenomena must take a different aspect.
In scientific inquiries we should always be clear in our own minds of the fact that we do not carry the analysis of any given phenomenon to completion; but that we always embody a number of hypotheses and theories in our explanations. In fact, if we were to do so, progress would hardly become possible, because every phenomenon would require an endless amount of time for thorough treatment. We are only too apt, however, to forget entirely the general, and, for most of us, purely traditional, theoretical basis which is the foundation of our reasoning, and to assume that the result of our reasoning is absolute truth. . . .
The influence of traditional material upon the life of man is not restricted to his thoughts, but manifests itself no less in his activities. . . . When we consider, for instance, the whole range of our daily life, we notice how strictly we are dependent upon tradition that can not be accounted for by any logical reasoning. We eat our three meals every day, and feel unhappy if we have to forego one of them. There is no physiological reason which demands three meals a day, and we find that many people are satisfied with two meals, while others enjoy four or even more. The range of animals and plants which we utilize for food is limited, and we have a decided aversion against eating dogs, or horses, or cats. There is certainly no objective reason for such aversion, since a great many people consider dogs and horses as dainties. . . . The whole range of actions that are considered as proper and improper can not be explained by any logical reason, but are almost all entirely due to custom; that is to say, they are purely traditional. This is even true of customs which excite strong emotions, as, for instance, those produced by infractions of modesty. . . .
No action can find the approval of a people which is fundamentally opposed to its customs and traditions. Among ourselves it is considered proper and a matter of course to treat the old with respect, for children to look after the welfare of their aged parents; and not to do so would be considered base ingratitude. Among the Eskimo we find an entirely different standard. It is required of children to kill their parents when they have become so old as to be helpless and no longer of any use to the family or to the community. It would be considered a breach of filial duty not to kill the aged parent. Revolting though this custom may seem to us, it is founded on an ethical law of the Eskimo, which rests on the whole mass of traditional lore and custom. . . .
It is somewhat difficult for us to recognize that the value which we attribute to our own civilization is due to the fact that we participate in this civilization, and that it has been controlling all our actions since the time of our birth; but it is certainly conceivable that there may be other civilizations, based perhaps on different traditions and on a different equilibrium of emotion and reason which are of no less value than ours, although it may be impossible for us to appreciate their values without having grown up under their influence.
About the Author
Franz Boas Franz Boas was a leading anthropologist in the United States during the late 19th and early 20th centuries. Sometimes referred to as the "father of American anthropology," Boas was among the most influential theorists, field researchers, and instructors of his era. His most important works include "The Limitations of the Comparative Method of Anthropology" (1896), The Mind of Primitive Man (in book form, as opposed to the earlier article by the same name; 1911), "Changes in the Bodily Form of the Descendants of Immigrants" (1912), "Mythology and Folktales of the North American Indians" (1914), Primitive Art (1927), and Race, Language, and Culture (1940).
Source
Commentary
Excerpt from Folkways (1906)
The folkways are the "right" ways to satisfy all interests, because they are traditional, and exist in fact. They extend over the whole of life. There is a right way to catch game, to win a wife, to make one's self appear, to cure disease, to honor ghosts, to treat comrades or strangers, to behave when a child is born, on the warpath, in council, and so on in all cases which can arise. . . . The "right" way is the way which the ancestors used and which has been handed down. The tradition is its own warrant. It is not held subject to verification by experience. The notion of right is in the folkways. It is not outside of them, of independent origin, and brought to them to test them. In the folkways, whatever is, is right. . . . "Rights" are the rules of mutual give and take in the competition of life which are imposed on comrades in the in-group, in order that the peace may prevail there which is essential to the group strength. Therefore rights can never be "natural" or "God-given," or absolute in any sense. The morality of a group at a time is the sum of the taboos and prescriptions in the folkways by which right conduct is defined. Therefore morals can never be intuitive. They are historical, institutional, and empirical.
World philosophy, life policy, right, rights, and morality are all products of the folkways. . . . The faith in the world philosophy drew lines outside of which the folkways must not go. Crude and vague notions of societal welfare were formed from the notion of pleasing the ghosts, and from such notions of expediency as the opinion that, if there were not children enough, there would not be warriors enough, or that, if there were too many children, the food supply would not be adequate. The notion of welfare was an inference and resultant from these mystic and utilitarian generalizations.
When the elements of truth and right are developed into doctrines of welfare, the folkways are raised to another plane. They then become capable of producing inferences, developing into new forms, and extending their constructive influence over men and society. Then we call them the mores. The mores are the folkways, including the philosophical and ethical generalizations as to societal welfare which are suggested by them, and inherent in them, as they grow. . . .
The mores come down to us from the past. Each individual is born into them as he is born into the atmosphere, and he does not reflect on them, or criticise them any more than a baby analyzes the atmosphere before he begins to breathe it. Each one is subjected to the influence of the mores, and formed by them, before he is capable of reasoning about them. . . . Nothing can ever change them but the unconscious and imperceptible movement of the mores. Religion was originally a matter of the mores. It became a societal institution and a function of the state. It has now to a great extent been put back into the mores. Since laws with penalties to enforce religious creeds or practices have gone out of use any one may think and act as he pleases about religion. . . . Democracy is in our American mores. It is a product of our physical and economic conditions. It is impossible to discuss or criticise it. It is glorified for popularity, and is a subject of dithyrambic rhetoric. No one treats it with complete candor and sincerity. No one dares to analyze it as he would aristocracy or autocracy. He would get no hearing and would only incur abuse. . . . The mores contain the norm by which, if we should discuss the mores, we should have to judge the mores. We learn the mores as unconsciously as we learn to walk and eat and breathe. The masses never learn how we walk, and eat, and breathe, and they never know any reason why the mores are what they are. The justification of them is that when we wake to consciousness of life we find them facts which already hold us in the bonds of tradition, custom, and habit. The mores contain embodied in them notions, doctrines, and maxims, but they are facts. They are in the present tense. They have nothing to do with what ought to be, will be, may be, or once was, if it is not now. . . .
A society does not record its mores in its annals, because they are to it unnoticed and unconscious. When we try to learn the mores of any age or people we have to seek our information in incidental references, allusions, observations of travelers, etc. Generally works of fiction, drama, etc., give us more information about the mores than historical records. . . . The mores are not recorded for the same reason that meals, going to bed, sunrise, etc., are not recorded, unless the regular course of things is broken.
We see that we must conceive of the mores as a vast system of usages, covering the whole of life, and serving all its interests; also containing in themselves their own justification by tradition and use and wont, and approved by mystic sanctions until, by rational reflection, they develop their own philosophical and ethical generalizations, which are elevated into "principles" of truth and right. They coerce and restrict the newborn generation. They do not stimulate to thought, but the contrary. The thinking is already done and is embodied in the mores. They never contain any provision for their own amendment. They are not questions, but answers, to the problem of life. They present themselves as final and unchangeable, because they present answers which are offered as "the truth." . . .
All the groups whose mores we consider far inferior to our own are quite as well satisfied with theirs as we are with ours. The goodness or badness of mores consists entirely in their adjustment to the life conditions and the interests of the time and place. Therefore it is a sign of ease and welfare when no thought is given to the mores, but all cooperate in them instinctively. . . .
At every turn we find new evidence that the mores can make anything right. What they do is that they cover a usage in dress, language, behavior, manners, etc., with the mantle of current custom, and give it regulation and limits within which it becomes unquestionable. The limit is generally a limit of toleration. . . . In regard to all social customs, the mores sanction them by defining them and giving them form. Such regulated customs are etiquette. The regulation by the mores always gives order and form, and thus surrounds life with limits within which we may and beyond which we may not pursue our interests (e.g., property and marriage). . . . The mores set the limits or define the disapproval. . . .
It cannot be doubted that, at any time, all ethical judgments are made through the atmosphere of the mores of the time. It is they which tell us what is right. It is only by high mental discipline that we can be trained to rise above that atmosphere and form rational judgments on current cases. This mental independence and ethical power are the highest products of education. They are also perilous. Our worst cranks are those who get the independence and power, but cannot stand alone and form correct judgments outside of the mores of the time and place. It must be remembered that the mores sometimes becloud the judgment, but they more often guide it.
About the Author
WIlliam Graham Sumner William Graham Sumner was an influential historian, economist, social scientist, critic, and teacher. Though often known primarily for his social Darwinist and free-market economic theories, he also wrote on a variety of other subjects, including cultural development and its effect on human societies. Among his many works are A History of American Currency (1874), What Social Classes Owe Each Other (1883), Protectionism (1885), The Financier and Finances of the American Revolution (1891), A History of Banking in All the Leading Nations (1896), Folkways (1906), and The Science of Society (1927).
Source
Commentary
Excerpt from "The Morals of Uncivilized People" (1910)
[H]owever great or small their power of reasoning, it is conceded that the mental endowment of all living beings lower than man is essentially if not altogether instinctive. . . . As there is nothing homologous to the rudest culture or civilization among even the highest animals, custom cannot materially influence them, and their equivalent of our morality must be entirely instinctive.
But when humanity is considered, the alleged distinction between the uncivilized and civilized races seems untrue. That any people, or any person even, has ever really regulated conduct by ideas or reason, is a delusion. The delusion is a common one because it is pleasing to flatter ourselves that our acts spring from purely rational motives. In fact, and of course, all real action precedes and determines intellectual reasoning, which, being analytical, cannot but be ex post facto [after the fact] and secondary. If this is true of ourselves, it obviously applies to people of less civilization, and must be a basic trait of all mankind, inherent in the constitution of human nature. . . .
There can be no doubt that the essential moral ideas of man spring from instinct. The repugnance toward murder, appropriation of the possessions of others, treachery, and want of hospitality, is based as little on considerations of social advantage or logical deductions as the sentiments are common to all races and times. The actions that are naturally the most abhorrent to everyone, such as cannibalism, incest, and lack of parental or filial devotion, are so thoroughly instinctive that these crimes have hardly had to be dealt with by most people, and their rarity and want of infectiousness are recognized in the frequent failure of creeds and codes to provide against them. Custom has further strengthened and shaped the inborn resentment we cherish against such actions, and custom has been variously modified by historical surroundings; but the source of the repugnance is purely unreasoning instinct. . . .
It is clear how these instincts could have arisen. In the animal world, they are, in the main, a necessity. The species that consumes itself, habitually inbreeds, or neglects its offspring, perishes. The unreasoning conditions of nature therefore have impressed strong aversions to such practices, or have suppressed the instincts toward them, in virtually all higher animals. From our animal ancestors we no doubt derive the same feelings; but as we are a "political animal," whose life is influenced by civilizational surroundings, and who is therefore apparently exempt from the operation of the laws of biological evolution, these inherited instincts may be entirely superfluous and useless to us. That in spite of this superfluity all men cling to them most tenaciously, reveals them to be only part of our blind natal make-up, as much so as the impulse that leads the dog to sacrifice himself for his master, the ant for her hill, the tigress for her young, and the salmon for his unborn progeny.
However, since man is constituted as a cultural being, his instincts must take shape according to his civilization. Hence there exist, in distant times and places, wide divergences or even contradictions of moral teaching, though the moral impulses are always the same.
To kill a stranger is often no crime, where society is organized on a restricted local basis, because the stranger is an enemy. Yet people who proclaim and practice this doctrine are no more given to murder among themselves than we are who justify only the shooting of an admitted national foe. The horizon is different in the two cases, the mental and social environments diverse, the scale of judgment various; but the principles according to which men determine whether a killing is a dastardly murder or an act of patriotic merit, are identical.
In the same way, the definitions of different nations as to what constitutes incest are as variable as their condemnation of the crime is universal. Some modern civilized people are shocked at marriage between uncle and niece, more tolerate cousin-marriage, but nearly all American Indians revolt at both. Until the most recent years Englishmen broke the law of their land if a woman succeeded her dead sister as wife; among innumerable nations the dead husband's brother feels it his duty to wed his sister-in-law. There are Australian tribes today among whom the woman that it is a man's duty to marry is his father's sister's daughter, while wedlock with the equivalent cousin through his mother's sister is an enormity and a crime.
In short, among all men there is a recognition of certain groups within which murder, theft, and marriage are wrong. The extent and composition of the groups vary tremendously from people to people, but this variation is an accident of political or intellectual development, and in itself no index or effect of morality. . . .
We have seen the ethical ideals of different times and places to be highly colored by custom and by historical, economic, and intellectual surroundings, perhaps by natural environment even, although everywhere resting on the same basis and actuated by the same principles. There is also much variety in the terminology of the explanations given of morality. Of course religion has been particularly active here. In ancient Palestine Jehovah, the mountain, and the stone tablets were brought forward as a convincing argument, just as in native California Chungichnish with his associates the raven and the rattlesnake furnished the reason why we should be good rather than bad. Even when the ritualistic apparatus is passed by, or does not exist, there is a divergence of explanation, for a "child of nature" has neither the ideas nor the language of a dialectic thinker. And yet, after all, [Immanuel Kant,] the greatest philosopher since the Greeks, fell back, in the search for a basis of ethics, upon the "categorical imperative"; and it is doubtful whether in this conception, however satisfying it may be to our genuine and more advanced intellectual needs, he essentially transcended the American Indian's answer, to the question why a certain action is objectionable: "because it is bad." . . .
Nothing is more erroneous than the wide-spread idea and oft-repeated statement that the savage is only a child. In knowledge, to a certain extent in intellect even, he may not rank above the children of civilization; but in character, in emotions, and in morals, he is essentially and absolutely a man. . . . Men are men and essentially alike wherever born and however reared, and breadth of view uninfluenced by doctrinal purpose has always subscribed to this opinion. There is every reason to believe, accordingly, that uncivilized and civilized men practice what they respectively regard as virtue, to the same degree.
In short, the moral element in humanity is basically instinctive. If we believe in evolution from animals, we must find the source of human morality, as of human senses and emotions, in animal life. Being an inherent element of the human mind, it is psychologically unexplainable and finds its justification only in itself. As an integral constituent of man, it is common to all races in identical or virtually identical form. Variations in moral ideas are reflections of changes in civilization. As civilization, however, is something outside of race and independent of the human body; and as it affects only the body of knowledge possessed by a people and the actions connected with this knowledge, the principles of morality cannot be influenced by civilization, however the concrete expression of these principles may vary in their adaptation to particular forms of civilization. The apparent difference between the morality of savages and ourselves is therefore not really in the morality but in the civilization.
About the Author
Alfred L. Kroeber Alfred L. Kroeber was a major 20th-century U.S. anthropologist who gained particular fame for studying the language and customs of the Yahi people of California with the group's last surviving member, Ishi. An important anthropological researcher, theorist, and author, Kroeber influenced a generation of anthropologists from his post at the University of California and through his many published works. Among his most important contributions to the field are The Religion of the Indians of California (1907), Anthropology (1923), Handbook of the Indians of California (1925), Configurations of Culture Growth (1944), The Nature of Culture (1952), and Style and Civilizations (1957).
MLA Citation
"International Activity: Is Our Understanding of the World Dependent on Our Culture?" World Geography: Understanding a Changing World, ABC-CLIO, 2021, worldgeography.abc- clio.com/Support/InvestigateActivity/1346356. Accessed 4 Oct. 2021.
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Activity
Inquiry Question Is our understanding of the world dependent on our culture?
The image at right shows Franz Boas, proponent of the idea of cultural relativism, demonstrating a ritual of the Hamatsa group of Canada's Kwakiutl people. Since European explorers first began to travel the wider world and came into contact with peoples and places with which they were wholly unfamiliar, scholars have attempted to make sense of the diversity of human society and activity. European traditions of catholicity—that some ideas, particularly religious ones, were universally applicable— led in part to colonial attempts to stamp out native cultures and assimilate all the people of the world into European belief systems. Many believed that non-European cultures were "primitive" or "backward" in their development, with Western civilization held up as the highest form of society and culture and the arbiter of what was true and right. As science came to explain more of the physical world, scholars sought to use scientific methods to study humans and their societies, often in an effort to develop rules for cultural evolution and to determine the "progress" of various groups.
Beginning in the late 1800s, however, a generation of anthropologists began to take a different view. This new generation, led by the groundbreaking ethnologist and polymath Boas, eschewed the ends of science and took a view previously confined to philosophy—that the subjective experiences of humans were dependent at least in part, if not entirely, upon their cultural environment. In an 1887 article on museums, Boas dropped a bombshell that would forever alter antropological study when he wrote about "the dissemination of the fact that civilization is not something absolute, but that it is relative, and that our ideas and conceptions are true only so far as our civilization goes." The field of cultural anthropology, the study of diverse cultures and worldviews on their own terms, developed from this seed, and today students the world over face the same question that Boas once asked himself: Is our understanding of the world around us dependent on our culture?
Background Information
Social Sciences The roots of the modern discipline of anthropology lie in the latter half of the 19th century, a time when the methods and aims of science were being applied to a diversity of subjects in an effort to establish the degree of certitude afforded to natural sciences like physics, biology, and chemistry. Essentially, it was thought that if scientific advances in physics could lead to engineering feats like suspension bridges and skyscrapers, then similar advances in the understanding of the human world should lead to more appropriate policies concerning society, government, and human endeavors. This followed the mid-19th century development of positivism—a term popularized by French philosopher and pioneering sociologist Auguste Comte—and "social sciences" began to emerge and grow in popularity. Earlier descriptions of non-Western peoples by travelers, missionaries, explorers, and scholars tended to be deductive—that is, conclusions were drawn logically by comparing particular evidence with one's existing assumptions, making judgments about specific things depending on larger preexisting judgments about their nature and place. In the positivist tradition of the social sciences, however, the first formal anthropologists hoped to use inductive reasoning—whereby conclusions are based upon observations of specific instances that may produce patterns that can be used to formulate more general rules—to uncover universal laws about societies and the human condition. Among the social sciences, the discipline of anthropology began to emerge as a positivist "study of man," particularly in the United Kingdom and United States.
Anthropologists of the late 19th and early 20th centuries undertook efforts to study, measure, document, and compare the various people of the world. Many early efforts were concerned primarily with laying the foundations for inductive study by performing fieldwork among various peoples around the world who were not well understood by Western scholars, gathering all sorts of data, from physical measurements of body parts to descriptions of their dress, customs, and living arrangements. Sociologists of the time, including important thinkers like émile Durkheim and Herbert Spencer, often used such data to explain and classify human societies based upon ideas from biology, describing them as repeating the sorts of functions, composition, and evolution observed in the natural world. At the same time, other scholars used the data to develop theories of societal evolution based upon the influential ideas of Charles Darwin, in some cases promoting a scientific racism that held physical and cultural differences to indicate the natural inferiority of certain groups. These ideas influenced, and were at times furthered by, many anthropologists of the era. Anthropology was thus intimately tied to both sociology and the natural sciences, and adopted elements of both; in fact, there was so much overlap that it is often difficult to differentiate them.
Building upon a general notion of societal evolution that had been popular since the 18th century and was bolstered by analogy to Darwinian evolution, it became increasingly fashionable to hold that human societies progress through a series of stages, from simple to complex, according to a variety of factors. Among the implications of this theory was that smaller, more exotic societies were evolutionarily backward or primitive and that Western society was superior in its more highly evolved complexities; in a sense, it was held that the relationship between the society and lifestyle of a British industrialist and that of a Papuan tribesman was akin to that between a human and a chimpanzee (or perhaps Cro Magnon man and Australopithecus). Armed with such conceptions, colonialism became a noble undertaking—the "White Man's Burden," as famously put by British author Rudyard Kipling in his 1899 poem by the same name— whereby Europeans "bettered" the "primitive" peoples of the world by introducing them to European ways and ideas. Such undertakings were further fueled by scientific racism sometimes based upon anthropologists' data.
Yet anthropological fieldwork also led to the evolution of the idea of culture. Once defined as the trappings of high civilization and set apart as a distinguishing factor between highly evolved societies andPage primitive 2 of 15 ones, culture came to be defined more broadly by anthropologists as the collection of all customs and beliefs held by a particular group. U.S. anthropologist Lewis Henry Morgan and his British colleague Edward Burnett Tylor utilized this broader idea of culture to put forward theories of societal and cultural evolution, incorporating technology, religion, law, art, medical practices, and many other customs into their analyses. What emerged was a concept of culture as an all-encompassing summary of the many facets of life within a group. Various cultures could be compared, and many early anthropologists did just that, fashioning a comparative method that led rather directly to ideas of cultural evolution and progress. It was thought that anthropologists and sociologists could discover laws about societies and their evolution by comparing cultural data from groups across the world and finding patterns that would indicate the trajectory of that evolution.
The German-American anthropologist Franz Boas was among the first to openly question the comparative method. Boas believed that cultures were not necessarily comparable; in a sense, he found that comparing two unrelated cultures was like comparing two unrelated fruits—one can learn little about pineapples by examining apples, and it would be wrong to assume that an apple is just a primitive pineapple because the pineapple is larger and more apparently complex. Instead of the comparative method, Boas preferred a method, similar to that popular among historians at the time, that prioritized unbiased description placed within its proper context and discarded the need for laws governing general societal or cultural evolution. Eventually, Boas came to espouse an idea now known as cultural relativism, the cornerstone of which was the concept that a culture must be understood on its own terms, not as part of a larger theory or in relation to another culture. In order to perform ethnographic fieldwork properly, it was thus necessary for anthropologists to immerse themselves as much as possible in the culture they were studying. In this tradition, fieldwork was to be less like scientific labwork and more like method acting.
Boas proved to be enormously influential in the United States, and an entire generation of American anthropologists studied under him or one of his early protégés; he directly taught such important figures as Alfred Kroeber, Robert Lowie, Edward Sapir, Ruth Benedict, and Margaret Mead. Since this was also the formative period for many U.S. universities, these disciples founded and populated anthropology programs throughout the country and institutionalized their methods. Other anthropologists—notably the Englishman A.R. Radcliffe-Brown— attempted to salvage the scientific and comparative aspects of anthropology by focusing on analyses and taxonomies of cultural systems, but by the 1960s the original positivist ideal was maligned by most anthropologists. Today, the methods of cultural anthropology (or social anthropology in the United Kingdom) are still primarily based upon ideas of cultural relativism, and it is commonly taught that unbiased, context-sensitive work should be at the heart of anthropological endeavors. Each society presents its own subject matter, to be examined and conveyed to members of other societies and cultural groups, and the popularization of both the methods and results of anthropological work have allowed for a wider understanding of the true diversity of humankind.
Evan Brown
MLA Citation: Brown, Evan. "Social Sciences." World Geography: Understanding a Changing World, ABC-CLIO, 2021, worldgeography.abc-clio.com/Search/Display/1346358. Accessed 4 Oct. 2021. Source
Commentary
Excerpt from "The Mind of Primitive Man" (1901)
The activities of the mind manifest themselves in thoughts and actions, and exhibit an infinite variety of form among the peoples of the world. In order to understand these clearly, the student must endeavor to divest himself entirely of opinions and emotions based upon the peculiar social environment into which he is born. He must adapt his own mind, so far as feasible, to that of the people whom he is studying. The more successful he is in freeing himself from the bias based on the group of ideas that constitute the civilization in which he lives, the more successful he will be in interpreting the beliefs and actions of man. He must follow lines of thought that are new to him. He must participate in new emotions, and understand how, under unwonted conditions, both lead to actions. Beliefs, customs, and the response of the individual to the events of daily life, give us ample opportunity to observe the manifestations of the mind of man under varying conditions. . . .
In our own community a mass of observations and of thoughts is transmitted to the child. These thoughts are the result of careful observation and speculation of our present and of past generations; but they are transmitted to most individuals as traditional matter, much the same as folklore. The child associates new perceptions with this whole mass of traditional material, and interprets his observations by its means. I believe it is a mistake to assume that the interpretation made by each civilized individual is a complete logical process. We associate a phenomenon with a number of known facts, the interpretations of which are assumed as known, and we are satisfied with the reduction of a new fact to these previously known facts. For instance, if the average individual hears of the explosion of a previously unknown chemical, he is satisfied to reason that certain materials are known to have the property of exploding under proper conditions, and that consequently the unknown substance has the same quality. . . .
The instruction given to the child of primitive man is not based on centuries of experimentation, but consists of the crude experience of generations. When a new experience enters the mind of primitive man, the same process which we observe among civilized man brings about an entirely different series of associations, and therefore results in a different type of explanation. A sudden explosion will associate itself in his mind, perhaps, with tales which he has heard in regard to the mythical history of the world, and consequently will be accompanied by superstitious fear. When we recognize that, neither among civilized man nor among primitive man, the average individual carries to completion the attempt at causal explanation of phenomena, but carries it only so far as to amalgamate it with other previously known facts, we recognize that the result of the whole process depends entirely upon the character of the traditional material: herein lies the immense importance of folklore in determining the mode of thought. Herein lies particularly the enormous influence of current philosophic opinion upon the masses of the people, and herein lies the influence of the dominant scientific theory upon the character of scientific work.
It would be in vain to try to understand the development of modern science without an intelligent understanding of modern philosophy; it would be in vain to try to understand the history of medieval science without an intelligent knowledge of medieval theology; and so it is in vain to try to understand primitive science without an intelligent knowledge of primitive mythology. Mythology, theology and philosophy are different terms for the same influences which shape the current of human thought, and which determine the character of the attempts of man to explain the phenomena of nature. To primitive man—who has been taught to consider the heavenly orbs as animate beings, who sees in every animal a being more powerful than man, to whom the mountains, trees and stones are endowed with life—explanations of phenomena will suggest themselves entirely different from those to which we are accustomed, since we base our conclusions upon the existence of matter and force as bringing about the observed results. If we do not consider it possible to explain the whole range of phenomena as the result of matter and force alone, all our explanations of natural phenomena must take a different aspect.
In scientific inquiries we should always be clear in our own minds of the fact that we do not carry the analysis of any given phenomenon to completion; but that we always embody a number of hypotheses and theories in our explanations. In fact, if we were to do so, progress would hardly become possible, because every phenomenon would require an endless amount of time for thorough treatment. We are only too apt, however, to forget entirely the general, and, for most of us, purely traditional, theoretical basis which is the foundation of our reasoning, and to assume that the result of our reasoning is absolute truth. . . .
The influence of traditional material upon the life of man is not restricted to his thoughts, but manifests itself no less in his activities. . . . When we consider, for instance, the whole range of our daily life, we notice how strictly we are dependent upon tradition that can not be accounted for by any logical reasoning. We eat our three meals every day, and feel unhappy if we have to forego one of them. There is no physiological reason which demands three meals a day, and we find that many people are satisfied with two meals, while others enjoy four or even more. The range of animals and plants which we utilize for food is limited, and we have a decided aversion against eating dogs, or horses, or cats. There is certainly no objective reason for such aversion, since a great many people consider dogs and horses as dainties. . . . The whole range of actions that are considered as proper and improper can not be explained by any logical reason, but are almost all entirely due to custom; that is to say, they are purely traditional. This is even true of customs which excite strong emotions, as, for instance, those produced by infractions of modesty. . . .
No action can find the approval of a people which is fundamentally opposed to its customs and traditions. Among ourselves it is considered proper and a matter of course to treat the old with respect, for children to look after the welfare of their aged parents; and not to do so would be considered base ingratitude. Among the Eskimo we find an entirely different standard. It is required of children to kill their parents when they have become so old as to be helpless and no longer of any use to the family or to the community. It would be considered a breach of filial duty not to kill the aged parent. Revolting though this custom may seem to us, it is founded on an ethical law of the Eskimo, which rests on the whole mass of traditional lore and custom. . . .
It is somewhat difficult for us to recognize that the value which we attribute to our own civilization is due to the fact that we participate in this civilization, and that it has been controlling all our actions since the time of our birth; but it is certainly conceivable that there may be other civilizations, based perhaps on different traditions and on a different equilibrium of emotion and reason which are of no less value than ours, although it may be impossible for us to appreciate their values without having grown up under their influence.
About the Author
Franz Boas Franz Boas was a leading anthropologist in the United States during the late 19th and early 20th centuries. Sometimes referred to as the "father of American anthropology," Boas was among the most influential theorists, field researchers, and instructors of his era. His most important works include "The Limitations of the Comparative Method of Anthropology" (1896), The Mind of Primitive Man (in book form, as opposed to the earlier article by the same name; 1911), "Changes in the Bodily Form of the Descendants of Immigrants" (1912), "Mythology and Folktales of the North American Indians" (1914), Primitive Art (1927), and Race, Language, and Culture (1940).
Source
Commentary
Excerpt from Folkways (1906)
The folkways are the "right" ways to satisfy all interests, because they are traditional, and exist in fact. They extend over the whole of life. There is a right way to catch game, to win a wife, to make one's self appear, to cure disease, to honor ghosts, to treat comrades or strangers, to behave when a child is born, on the warpath, in council, and so on in all cases which can arise. . . . The "right" way is the way which the ancestors used and which has been handed down. The tradition is its own warrant. It is not held subject to verification by experience. The notion of right is in the folkways. It is not outside of them, of independent origin, and brought to them to test them. In the folkways, whatever is, is right. . . . "Rights" are the rules of mutual give and take in the competition of life which are imposed on comrades in the in-group, in order that the peace may prevail there which is essential to the group strength. Therefore rights can never be "natural" or "God-given," or absolute in any sense. The morality of a group at a time is the sum of the taboos and prescriptions in the folkways by which right conduct is defined. Therefore morals can never be intuitive. They are historical, institutional, and empirical.
World philosophy, life policy, right, rights, and morality are all products of the folkways. . . . The faith in the world philosophy drew lines outside of which the folkways must not go. Crude and vague notions of societal welfare were formed from the notion of pleasing the ghosts, and from such notions of expediency as the opinion that, if there were not children enough, there would not be warriors enough, or that, if there were too many children, the food supply would not be adequate. The notion of welfare was an inference and resultant from these mystic and utilitarian generalizations.
When the elements of truth and right are developed into doctrines of welfare, the folkways are raised to another plane. They then become capable of producing inferences, developing into new forms, and extending their constructive influence over men and society. Then we call them the mores. The mores are the folkways, including the philosophical and ethical generalizations as to societal welfare which are suggested by them, and inherent in them, as they grow. . . .
The mores come down to us from the past. Each individual is born into them as he is born into the atmosphere, and he does not reflect on them, or criticise them any more than a baby analyzes the atmosphere before he begins to breathe it. Each one is subjected to the influence of the mores, and formed by them, before he is capable of reasoning about them. . . . Nothing can ever change them but the unconscious and imperceptible movement of the mores. Religion was originally a matter of the mores. It became a societal institution and a function of the state. It has now to a great extent been put back into the mores. Since laws with penalties to enforce religious creeds or practices have gone out of use any one may think and act as he pleases about religion. . . . Democracy is in our American mores. It is a product of our physical and economic conditions. It is impossible to discuss or criticise it. It is glorified for popularity, and is a subject of dithyrambic rhetoric. No one treats it with complete candor and sincerity. No one dares to analyze it as he would aristocracy or autocracy. He would get no hearing and would only incur abuse. . . . The mores contain the norm by which, if we should discuss the mores, we should have to judge the mores. We learn the mores as unconsciously as we learn to walk and eat and breathe. The masses never learn how we walk, and eat, and breathe, and they never know any reason why the mores are what they are. The justification of them is that when we wake to consciousness of life we find them facts which already hold us in the bonds of tradition, custom, and habit. The mores contain embodied in them notions, doctrines, and maxims, but they are facts. They are in the present tense. They have nothing to do with what ought to be, will be, may be, or once was, if it is not now. . . .
A society does not record its mores in its annals, because they are to it unnoticed and unconscious. When we try to learn the mores of any age or people we have to seek our information in incidental references, allusions, observations of travelers, etc. Generally works of fiction, drama, etc., give us more information about the mores than historical records. . . . The mores are not recorded for the same reason that meals, going to bed, sunrise, etc., are not recorded, unless the regular course of things is broken.
We see that we must conceive of the mores as a vast system of usages, covering the whole of life, and serving all its interests; also containing in themselves their own justification by tradition and use and wont, and approved by mystic sanctions until, by rational reflection, they develop their own philosophical and ethical generalizations, which are elevated into "principles" of truth and right. They coerce and restrict the newborn generation. They do not stimulate to thought, but the contrary. The thinking is already done and is embodied in the mores. They never contain any provision for their own amendment. They are not questions, but answers, to the problem of life. They present themselves as final and unchangeable, because they present answers which are offered as "the truth." . . .
All the groups whose mores we consider far inferior to our own are quite as well satisfied with theirs as we are with ours. The goodness or badness of mores consists entirely in their adjustment to the life conditions and the interests of the time and place. Therefore it is a sign of ease and welfare when no thought is given to the mores, but all cooperate in them instinctively. . . .
At every turn we find new evidence that the mores can make anything right. What they do is that they cover a usage in dress, language, behavior, manners, etc., with the mantle of current custom, and give it regulation and limits within which it becomes unquestionable. The limit is generally a limit of toleration. . . . In regard to all social customs, the mores sanction them by defining them and giving them form. Such regulated customs are etiquette. The regulation by the mores always gives order and form, and thus surrounds life with limits within which we may and beyond which we may not pursue our interests (e.g., property and marriage). . . . The mores set the limits or define the disapproval. . . .
It cannot be doubted that, at any time, all ethical judgments are made through the atmosphere of the mores of the time. It is they which tell us what is right. It is only by high mental discipline that we can be trained to rise above that atmosphere and form rational judgments on current cases. This mental independence and ethical power are the highest products of education. They are also perilous. Our worst cranks are those who get the independence and power, but cannot stand alone and form correct judgments outside of the mores of the time and place. It must be remembered that the mores sometimes becloud the judgment, but they more often guide it.
About the Author
WIlliam Graham Sumner William Graham Sumner was an influential historian, economist, social scientist, critic, and teacher. Though often known primarily for his social Darwinist and free-market economic theories, he also wrote on a variety of other subjects, including cultural development and its effect on human societies. Among his many works are A History of American Currency (1874), What Social Classes Owe Each Other (1883), Protectionism (1885), The Financier and Finances of the American Revolution (1891), A History of Banking in All the Leading Nations (1896), Folkways (1906), and The Science of Society (1927).
Source
Commentary
Excerpt from "The Morals of Uncivilized People" (1910)
[H]owever great or small their power of reasoning, it is conceded that the mental endowment of all living beings lower than man is essentially if not altogether instinctive. . . . As there is nothing homologous to the rudest culture or civilization among even the highest animals, custom cannot materially influence them, and their equivalent of our morality must be entirely instinctive.
But when humanity is considered, the alleged distinction between the uncivilized and civilized races seems untrue. That any people, or any person even, has ever really regulated conduct by ideas or reason, is a delusion. The delusion is a common one because it is pleasing to flatter ourselves that our acts spring from purely rational motives. In fact, and of course, all real action precedes and determines intellectual reasoning, which, being analytical, cannot but be ex post facto [after the fact] and secondary. If this is true of ourselves, it obviously applies to people of less civilization, and must be a basic trait of all mankind, inherent in the constitution of human nature. . . .
There can be no doubt that the essential moral ideas of man spring from instinct. The repugnance toward murder, appropriation of the possessions of others, treachery, and want of hospitality, is based as little on considerations of social advantage or logical deductions as the sentiments are common to all races and times. The actions that are naturally the most abhorrent to everyone, such as cannibalism, incest, and lack of parental or filial devotion, are so thoroughly instinctive that these crimes have hardly had to be dealt with by most people, and their rarity and want of infectiousness are recognized in the frequent failure of creeds and codes to provide against them. Custom has further strengthened and shaped the inborn resentment we cherish against such actions, and custom has been variously modified by historical surroundings; but the source of the repugnance is purely unreasoning instinct. . . .
It is clear how these instincts could have arisen. In the animal world, they are, in the main, a necessity. The species that consumes itself, habitually inbreeds, or neglects its offspring, perishes. The unreasoning conditions of nature therefore have impressed strong aversions to such practices, or have suppressed the instincts toward them, in virtually all higher animals. From our animal ancestors we no doubt derive the same feelings; but as we are a "political animal," whose life is influenced by civilizational surroundings, and who is therefore apparently exempt from the operation of the laws of biological evolution, these inherited instincts may be entirely superfluous and useless to us. That in spite of this superfluity all men cling to them most tenaciously, reveals them to be only part of our blind natal make-up, as much so as the impulse that leads the dog to sacrifice himself for his master, the ant for her hill, the tigress for her young, and the salmon for his unborn progeny.
However, since man is constituted as a cultural being, his instincts must take shape according to his civilization. Hence there exist, in distant times and places, wide divergences or even contradictions of moral teaching, though the moral impulses are always the same.
To kill a stranger is often no crime, where society is organized on a restricted local basis, because the stranger is an enemy. Yet people who proclaim and practice this doctrine are no more given to murder among themselves than we are who justify only the shooting of an admitted national foe. The horizon is different in the two cases, the mental and social environments diverse, the scale of judgment various; but the principles according to which men determine whether a killing is a dastardly murder or an act of patriotic merit, are identical.
In the same way, the definitions of different nations as to what constitutes incest are as variable as their condemnation of the crime is universal. Some modern civilized people are shocked at marriage between uncle and niece, more tolerate cousin-marriage, but nearly all American Indians revolt at both. Until the most recent years Englishmen broke the law of their land if a woman succeeded her dead sister as wife; among innumerable nations the dead husband's brother feels it his duty to wed his sister-in-law. There are Australian tribes today among whom the woman that it is a man's duty to marry is his father's sister's daughter, while wedlock with the equivalent cousin through his mother's sister is an enormity and a crime.
In short, among all men there is a recognition of certain groups within which murder, theft, and marriage are wrong. The extent and composition of the groups vary tremendously from people to people, but this variation is an accident of political or intellectual development, and in itself no index or effect of morality. . . .
We have seen the ethical ideals of different times and places to be highly colored by custom and by historical, economic, and intellectual surroundings, perhaps by natural environment even, although everywhere resting on the same basis and actuated by the same principles. There is also much variety in the terminology of the explanations given of morality. Of course religion has been particularly active here. In ancient Palestine Jehovah, the mountain, and the stone tablets were brought forward as a convincing argument, just as in native California Chungichnish with his associates the raven and the rattlesnake furnished the reason why we should be good rather than bad. Even when the ritualistic apparatus is passed by, or does not exist, there is a divergence of explanation, for a "child of nature" has neither the ideas nor the language of a dialectic thinker. And yet, after all, [Immanuel Kant,] the greatest philosopher since the Greeks, fell back, in the search for a basis of ethics, upon the "categorical imperative"; and it is doubtful whether in this conception, however satisfying it may be to our genuine and more advanced intellectual needs, he essentially transcended the American Indian's answer, to the question why a certain action is objectionable: "because it is bad." . . .
Nothing is more erroneous than the wide-spread idea and oft-repeated statement that the savage is only a child. In knowledge, to a certain extent in intellect even, he may not rank above the children of civilization; but in character, in emotions, and in morals, he is essentially and absolutely a man. . . . Men are men and essentially alike wherever born and however reared, and breadth of view uninfluenced by doctrinal purpose has always subscribed to this opinion. There is every reason to believe, accordingly, that uncivilized and civilized men practice what they respectively regard as virtue, to the same degree.
In short, the moral element in humanity is basically instinctive. If we believe in evolution from animals, we must find the source of human morality, as of human senses and emotions, in animal life. Being an inherent element of the human mind, it is psychologically unexplainable and finds its justification only in itself. As an integral constituent of man, it is common to all races in identical or virtually identical form. Variations in moral ideas are reflections of changes in civilization. As civilization, however, is something outside of race and independent of the human body; and as it affects only the body of knowledge possessed by a people and the actions connected with this knowledge, the principles of morality cannot be influenced by civilization, however the concrete expression of these principles may vary in their adaptation to particular forms of civilization. The apparent difference between the morality of savages and ourselves is therefore not really in the morality but in the civilization.
About the Author
Alfred L. Kroeber Alfred L. Kroeber was a major 20th-century U.S. anthropologist who gained particular fame for studying the language and customs of the Yahi people of California with the group's last surviving member, Ishi. An important anthropological researcher, theorist, and author, Kroeber influenced a generation of anthropologists from his post at the University of California and through his many published works. Among his most important contributions to the field are The Religion of the Indians of California (1907), Anthropology (1923), Handbook of the Indians of California (1925), Configurations of Culture Growth (1944), The Nature of Culture (1952), and Style and Civilizations (1957).
MLA Citation
"International Activity: Is Our Understanding of the World Dependent on Our Culture?" World Geography: Understanding a Changing World, ABC-CLIO, 2021, worldgeography.abc- clio.com/Support/InvestigateActivity/1346356. Accessed 4 Oct. 2021.
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This content may be used for non-commercial, educational purposes only. https://worldgeography.abc-clio.com/Support/InvestigateActivity/1346356 Cultural Relativism
Activity
Inquiry Question Is our understanding of the world dependent on our culture?
The image at right shows Franz Boas, proponent of the idea of cultural relativism, demonstrating a ritual of the Hamatsa group of Canada's Kwakiutl people. Since European explorers first began to travel the wider world and came into contact with peoples and places with which they were wholly unfamiliar, scholars have attempted to make sense of the diversity of human society and activity. European traditions of catholicity—that some ideas, particularly religious ones, were universally applicable— led in part to colonial attempts to stamp out native cultures and assimilate all the people of the world into European belief systems. Many believed that non-European cultures were "primitive" or "backward" in their development, with Western civilization held up as the highest form of society and culture and the arbiter of what was true and right. As science came to explain more of the physical world, scholars sought to use scientific methods to study humans and their societies, often in an effort to develop rules for cultural evolution and to determine the "progress" of various groups.
Beginning in the late 1800s, however, a generation of anthropologists began to take a different view. This new generation, led by the groundbreaking ethnologist and polymath Boas, eschewed the ends of science and took a view previously confined to philosophy—that the subjective experiences of humans were dependent at least in part, if not entirely, upon their cultural environment. In an 1887 article on museums, Boas dropped a bombshell that would forever alter antropological study when he wrote about "the dissemination of the fact that civilization is not something absolute, but that it is relative, and that our ideas and conceptions are true only so far as our civilization goes." The field of cultural anthropology, the study of diverse cultures and worldviews on their own terms, developed from this seed, and today students the world over face the same question that Boas once asked himself: Is our understanding of the world around us dependent on our culture?
Background Information
Social Sciences The roots of the modern discipline of anthropology lie in the latter half of the 19th century, a time when the methods and aims of science were being applied to a diversity of subjects in an effort to establish the degree of certitude afforded to natural sciences like physics, biology, and chemistry. Essentially, it was thought that if scientific advances in physics could lead to engineering feats like suspension bridges and skyscrapers, then similar advances in the understanding of the human world should lead to more appropriate policies concerning society, government, and human endeavors. This followed the mid-19th century development of positivism—a term popularized by French philosopher and pioneering sociologist Auguste Comte—and "social sciences" began to emerge and grow in popularity. Earlier descriptions of non-Western peoples by travelers, missionaries, explorers, and scholars tended to be deductive—that is, conclusions were drawn logically by comparing particular evidence with one's existing assumptions, making judgments about specific things depending on larger preexisting judgments about their nature and place. In the positivist tradition of the social sciences, however, the first formal anthropologists hoped to use inductive reasoning—whereby conclusions are based upon observations of specific instances that may produce patterns that can be used to formulate more general rules—to uncover universal laws about societies and the human condition. Among the social sciences, the discipline of anthropology began to emerge as a positivist "study of man," particularly in the United Kingdom and United States.
Anthropologists of the late 19th and early 20th centuries undertook efforts to study, measure, document, and compare the various people of the world. Many early efforts were concerned primarily with laying the foundations for inductive study by performing fieldwork among various peoples around the world who were not well understood by Western scholars, gathering all sorts of data, from physical measurements of body parts to descriptions of their dress, customs, and living arrangements. Sociologists of the time, including important thinkers like émile Durkheim and Herbert Spencer, often used such data to explain and classify human societies based upon ideas from biology, describing them as repeating the sorts of functions, composition, and evolution observed in the natural world. At the same time, other scholars used the data to develop theories of societal evolution based upon the influential ideas of Charles Darwin, in some cases promoting a scientific racism that held physical and cultural differences to indicate the natural inferiority of certain groups. These ideas influenced, and were at times furthered by, many anthropologists of the era. Anthropology was thus intimately tied to both sociology and the natural sciences, and adopted elements of both; in fact, there was so much overlap that it is often difficult to differentiate them.
Building upon a general notion of societal evolution that had been popular since the 18th century and was bolstered by analogy to Darwinian evolution, it became increasingly fashionable to hold that human societies progress through a series of stages, from simple to complex, according to a variety of factors. Among the implications of this theory was that smaller, more exotic societies were evolutionarily backward or primitive and that Western society was superior in its more highly evolved complexities; in a sense, it was held that the relationship between the society and lifestyle of a British industrialist and that of a Papuan tribesman was akin to that between a human and a chimpanzee (or perhaps Cro Magnon man and Australopithecus). Armed with such conceptions, colonialism became a noble undertaking—the "White Man's Burden," as famously put by British author Rudyard Kipling in his 1899 poem by the same name— whereby Europeans "bettered" the "primitive" peoples of the world by introducing them to European ways and ideas. Such undertakings were further fueled by scientific racism sometimes based upon anthropologists' data.
Yet anthropological fieldwork also led to the evolution of the idea of culture. Once defined as the trappings of high civilization and set apart as a distinguishing factor between highly evolved societies and primitive ones, culture came to be defined more broadly by anthropologists as the collection of all customs and beliefs held by a particular group. U.S. anthropologist Lewis Henry Morgan and his British colleague Edward Burnett Tylor utilized this broader idea of culture to put forward theories of societal and cultural evolution, incorporating technology, religion, law, art, medical practices, and many other customs into their analyses. What emerged was a concept of culture as an all-encompassing summary of the many facets of life within a group. Various cultures could be compared, and many early anthropologists did just that, fashioning a comparative method that led rather directly to ideas of cultural evolution and progress. It was thought that anthropologists and sociologists could discover laws about societies and their evolution by comparing cultural data from groups across the world and finding patterns that would indicate the trajectory of that evolution.
The German-American anthropologist Franz Boas was among the first to openly question the comparative method. Boas believed that cultures were not necessarily comparable; in a sense, he found that comparing two unrelated cultures was like comparing two unrelated fruits—one can learn little about pineapples by examining apples, and it would be wrong to assume that an apple is just a primitive pineapple because the pineapple is larger and more apparently complex. Instead of the comparative method, Boas preferred a method, similar to that popular among historians at the time, that prioritized unbiased description placed within its proper context and discarded the need for laws governing general societal or cultural evolution. Eventually, Boas came to espouse an idea now known as cultural relativism, the cornerstone of which was the concept that a culture must be understood on its own terms, not as part of a larger theory or in relation to another culture. In order to perform ethnographic fieldwork properly, it was thus necessary for anthropologists to immerse themselves as much as possible in the culture they were studying. In this tradition, fieldwork was to be less like scientific labwork and more like method acting.
Boas proved to be enormously influential in the United States, and an entire generation of American anthropologists studied under him or one of his early protégés; he directly taught such important figures as Alfred Kroeber, Robert Lowie, Edward Sapir, Ruth Benedict, and Margaret Mead. Since this was also the formative period for many U.S. universities, these disciples founded and populated anthropology programs throughout the country and institutionalized their methods. Other anthropologists—notably the Englishman A.R. Radcliffe-Brown— attempted to salvage the scientific and comparative aspects of anthropology by focusing on analyses and taxonomies of cultural systems, but by the 1960s the original positivist ideal was maligned by most anthropologists. Today, the methods of cultural anthropology (or social anthropology in the United Kingdom) are still primarily based upon ideas of cultural relativism, and it is commonly taught that unbiased, context-sensitive work should be at the heart of anthropological endeavors. Each society presents its own subject matter, to be examined and conveyed to members of other societies and cultural groups, and the popularization of both the methods and results of anthropological work have allowed for a wider understanding of the true diversity of humankind.
Evan Brown Page 3 of 15
MLA Citation: Brown, Evan. "Social Sciences." World Geography: Understanding a Changing World, ABC-CLIO, 2021, worldgeography.abc-clio.com/Search/Display/1346358. Accessed 4 Oct. 2021. Source
Commentary
Excerpt from "The Mind of Primitive Man" (1901)
The activities of the mind manifest themselves in thoughts and actions, and exhibit an infinite variety of form among the peoples of the world. In order to understand these clearly, the student must endeavor to divest himself entirely of opinions and emotions based upon the peculiar social environment into which he is born. He must adapt his own mind, so far as feasible, to that of the people whom he is studying. The more successful he is in freeing himself from the bias based on the group of ideas that constitute the civilization in which he lives, the more successful he will be in interpreting the beliefs and actions of man. He must follow lines of thought that are new to him. He must participate in new emotions, and understand how, under unwonted conditions, both lead to actions. Beliefs, customs, and the response of the individual to the events of daily life, give us ample opportunity to observe the manifestations of the mind of man under varying conditions. . . .
In our own community a mass of observations and of thoughts is transmitted to the child. These thoughts are the result of careful observation and speculation of our present and of past generations; but they are transmitted to most individuals as traditional matter, much the same as folklore. The child associates new perceptions with this whole mass of traditional material, and interprets his observations by its means. I believe it is a mistake to assume that the interpretation made by each civilized individual is a complete logical process. We associate a phenomenon with a number of known facts, the interpretations of which are assumed as known, and we are satisfied with the reduction of a new fact to these previously known facts. For instance, if the average individual hears of the explosion of a previously unknown chemical, he is satisfied to reason that certain materials are known to have the property of exploding under proper conditions, and that consequently the unknown substance has the same quality. . . .
The instruction given to the child of primitive man is not based on centuries of experimentation, but consists of the crude experience of generations. When a new experience enters the mind of primitive man, the same process which we observe among civilized man brings about an entirely different series of associations, and therefore results in a different type of explanation. A sudden explosion will associate itself in his mind, perhaps, with tales which he has heard in regard to the mythical history of the world, and consequently will be accompanied by superstitious fear. When we recognize that, neither among civilized man nor among primitive man, the average individual carries to completion the attempt at causal explanation of phenomena, but carries it only so far as to amalgamate it with other previously known facts, we recognize that the result of the whole process depends entirely upon the character of the traditional material: herein lies the immense importance of folklore in determining the mode of thought. Herein lies particularly the enormous influence of current philosophic opinion upon the masses of the people, and herein lies the influence of the dominant scientific theory upon the character of scientific work.
It would be in vain to try to understand the development of modern science without an intelligent understanding of modern philosophy; it would be in vain to try to understand the history of medieval science without an intelligent knowledge of medieval theology; and so it is in vain to try to understand primitive science without an intelligent knowledge of primitive mythology. Mythology, theology and philosophy are different terms for the same influences which shape the current of human thought, and which determine the character of the attempts of man to explain the phenomena of nature. To primitive man—who has been taught to consider the heavenly orbs as animate beings, who sees in every animal a being more powerful than man, to whom the mountains, trees and stones are endowed with life—explanations of phenomena will suggest themselves entirely different from those to which we are accustomed, since we base our conclusions upon the existence of matter and force as bringing about the observed results. If we do not consider it possible to explain the whole range of phenomena as the result of matter and force alone, all our explanations of natural phenomena must take a different aspect.
In scientific inquiries we should always be clear in our own minds of the fact that we do not carry the analysis of any given phenomenon to completion; but that we always embody a number of hypotheses and theories in our explanations. In fact, if we were to do so, progress would hardly become possible, because every phenomenon would require an endless amount of time for thorough treatment. We are only too apt, however, to forget entirely the general, and, for most of us, purely traditional, theoretical basis which is the foundation of our reasoning, and to assume that the result of our reasoning is absolute truth. . . .
The influence of traditional material upon the life of man is not restricted to his thoughts, but manifests itself no less in his activities. . . . When we consider, for instance, the whole range of our daily life, we notice how strictly we are dependent upon tradition that can not be accounted for by any logical reasoning. We eat our three meals every day, and feel unhappy if we have to forego one of them. There is no physiological reason which demands three meals a day, and we find that many people are satisfied with two meals, while others enjoy four or even more. The range of animals and plants which we utilize for food is limited, and we have a decided aversion against eating dogs, or horses, or cats. There is certainly no objective reason for such aversion, since a great many people consider dogs and horses as dainties. . . . The whole range of actions that are considered as proper and improper can not be explained by any logical reason, but are almost all entirely due to custom; that is to say, they are purely traditional. This is even true of customs which excite strong emotions, as, for instance, those produced by infractions of modesty. . . .
No action can find the approval of a people which is fundamentally opposed to its customs and traditions. Among ourselves it is considered proper and a matter of course to treat the old with respect, for children to look after the welfare of their aged parents; and not to do so would be considered base ingratitude. Among the Eskimo we find an entirely different standard. It is required of children to kill their parents when they have become so old as to be helpless and no longer of any use to the family or to the community. It would be considered a breach of filial duty not to kill the aged parent. Revolting though this custom may seem to us, it is founded on an ethical law of the Eskimo, which rests on the whole mass of traditional lore and custom. . . .
It is somewhat difficult for us to recognize that the value which we attribute to our own civilization is due to the fact that we participate in this civilization, and that it has been controlling all our actions since the time of our birth; but it is certainly conceivable that there may be other civilizations, based perhaps on different traditions and on a different equilibrium of emotion and reason which are of no less value than ours, although it may be impossible for us to appreciate their values without having grown up under their influence.
About the Author
Franz Boas Franz Boas was a leading anthropologist in the United States during the late 19th and early 20th centuries. Sometimes referred to as the "father of American anthropology," Boas was among the most influential theorists, field researchers, and instructors of his era. His most important works include "The Limitations of the Comparative Method of Anthropology" (1896), The Mind of Primitive Man (in book form, as opposed to the earlier article by the same name; 1911), "Changes in the Bodily Form of the Descendants of Immigrants" (1912), "Mythology and Folktales of the North American Indians" (1914), Primitive Art (1927), and Race, Language, and Culture (1940).
Source
Commentary
Excerpt from Folkways (1906)
The folkways are the "right" ways to satisfy all interests, because they are traditional, and exist in fact. They extend over the whole of life. There is a right way to catch game, to win a wife, to make one's self appear, to cure disease, to honor ghosts, to treat comrades or strangers, to behave when a child is born, on the warpath, in council, and so on in all cases which can arise. . . . The "right" way is the way which the ancestors used and which has been handed down. The tradition is its own warrant. It is not held subject to verification by experience. The notion of right is in the folkways. It is not outside of them, of independent origin, and brought to them to test them. In the folkways, whatever is, is right. . . . "Rights" are the rules of mutual give and take in the competition of life which are imposed on comrades in the in-group, in order that the peace may prevail there which is essential to the group strength. Therefore rights can never be "natural" or "God-given," or absolute in any sense. The morality of a group at a time is the sum of the taboos and prescriptions in the folkways by which right conduct is defined. Therefore morals can never be intuitive. They are historical, institutional, and empirical.
World philosophy, life policy, right, rights, and morality are all products of the folkways. . . . The faith in the world philosophy drew lines outside of which the folkways must not go. Crude and vague notions of societal welfare were formed from the notion of pleasing the ghosts, and from such notions of expediency as the opinion that, if there were not children enough, there would not be warriors enough, or that, if there were too many children, the food supply would not be adequate. The notion of welfare was an inference and resultant from these mystic and utilitarian generalizations.
When the elements of truth and right are developed into doctrines of welfare, the folkways are raised to another plane. They then become capable of producing inferences, developing into new forms, and extending their constructive influence over men and society. Then we call them the mores. The mores are the folkways, including the philosophical and ethical generalizations as to societal welfare which are suggested by them, and inherent in them, as they grow. . . .
The mores come down to us from the past. Each individual is born into them as he is born into the atmosphere, and he does not reflect on them, or criticise them any more than a baby analyzes the atmosphere before he begins to breathe it. Each one is subjected to the influence of the mores, and formed by them, before he is capable of reasoning about them. . . . Nothing can ever change them but the unconscious and imperceptible movement of the mores. Religion was originally a matter of the mores. It became a societal institution and a function of the state. It has now to a great extent been put back into the mores. Since laws with penalties to enforce religious creeds or practices have gone out of use any one may think and act as he pleases about religion. . . . Democracy is in our American mores. It is a product of our physical and economic conditions. It is impossible to discuss or criticise it. It is glorified for popularity, and is a subject of dithyrambic rhetoric. No one treats it with complete candor and sincerity. No one dares to analyze it as he would aristocracy or autocracy. He would get no hearing and would only incur abuse. . . . The mores contain the norm by which, if we should discuss the mores, we should have to judge the mores. We learn the mores as unconsciously as we learn to walk and eat and breathe. The masses never learn how we walk, and eat, and breathe, and they never know any reason why the mores are what they are. The justification of them is that when we wake to consciousness of life we find them facts which already hold us in the bonds of tradition, custom, and habit. The mores contain embodied in them notions, doctrines, and maxims, but they are facts. They are in the present tense. They have nothing to do with what ought to be, will be, may be, or once was, if it is not now. . . .
A society does not record its mores in its annals, because they are to it unnoticed and unconscious. When we try to learn the mores of any age or people we have to seek our information in incidental references, allusions, observations of travelers, etc. Generally works of fiction, drama, etc., give us more information about the mores than historical records. . . . The mores are not recorded for the same reason that meals, going to bed, sunrise, etc., are not recorded, unless the regular course of things is broken.
We see that we must conceive of the mores as a vast system of usages, covering the whole of life, and serving all its interests; also containing in themselves their own justification by tradition and use and wont, and approved by mystic sanctions until, by rational reflection, they develop their own philosophical and ethical generalizations, which are elevated into "principles" of truth and right. They coerce and restrict the newborn generation. They do not stimulate to thought, but the contrary. The thinking is already done and is embodied in the mores. They never contain any provision for their own amendment. They are not questions, but answers, to the problem of life. They present themselves as final and unchangeable, because they present answers which are offered as "the truth." . . .
All the groups whose mores we consider far inferior to our own are quite as well satisfied with theirs as we are with ours. The goodness or badness of mores consists entirely in their adjustment to the life conditions and the interests of the time and place. Therefore it is a sign of ease and welfare when no thought is given to the mores, but all cooperate in them instinctively. . . .
At every turn we find new evidence that the mores can make anything right. What they do is that they cover a usage in dress, language, behavior, manners, etc., with the mantle of current custom, and give it regulation and limits within which it becomes unquestionable. The limit is generally a limit of toleration. . . . In regard to all social customs, the mores sanction them by defining them and giving them form. Such regulated customs are etiquette. The regulation by the mores always gives order and form, and thus surrounds life with limits within which we may and beyond which we may not pursue our interests (e.g., property and marriage). . . . The mores set the limits or define the disapproval. . . .
It cannot be doubted that, at any time, all ethical judgments are made through the atmosphere of the mores of the time. It is they which tell us what is right. It is only by high mental discipline that we can be trained to rise above that atmosphere and form rational judgments on current cases. This mental independence and ethical power are the highest products of education. They are also perilous. Our worst cranks are those who get the independence and power, but cannot stand alone and form correct judgments outside of the mores of the time and place. It must be remembered that the mores sometimes becloud the judgment, but they more often guide it.
About the Author
WIlliam Graham Sumner William Graham Sumner was an influential historian, economist, social scientist, critic, and teacher. Though often known primarily for his social Darwinist and free-market economic theories, he also wrote on a variety of other subjects, including cultural development and its effect on human societies. Among his many works are A History of American Currency (1874), What Social Classes Owe Each Other (1883), Protectionism (1885), The Financier and Finances of the American Revolution (1891), A History of Banking in All the Leading Nations (1896), Folkways (1906), and The Science of Society (1927).
Source
Commentary
Excerpt from "The Morals of Uncivilized People" (1910)
[H]owever great or small their power of reasoning, it is conceded that the mental endowment of all living beings lower than man is essentially if not altogether instinctive. . . . As there is nothing homologous to the rudest culture or civilization among even the highest animals, custom cannot materially influence them, and their equivalent of our morality must be entirely instinctive.
But when humanity is considered, the alleged distinction between the uncivilized and civilized races seems untrue. That any people, or any person even, has ever really regulated conduct by ideas or reason, is a delusion. The delusion is a common one because it is pleasing to flatter ourselves that our acts spring from purely rational motives. In fact, and of course, all real action precedes and determines intellectual reasoning, which, being analytical, cannot but be ex post facto [after the fact] and secondary. If this is true of ourselves, it obviously applies to people of less civilization, and must be a basic trait of all mankind, inherent in the constitution of human nature. . . .
There can be no doubt that the essential moral ideas of man spring from instinct. The repugnance toward murder, appropriation of the possessions of others, treachery, and want of hospitality, is based as little on considerations of social advantage or logical deductions as the sentiments are common to all races and times. The actions that are naturally the most abhorrent to everyone, such as cannibalism, incest, and lack of parental or filial devotion, are so thoroughly instinctive that these crimes have hardly had to be dealt with by most people, and their rarity and want of infectiousness are recognized in the frequent failure of creeds and codes to provide against them. Custom has further strengthened and shaped the inborn resentment we cherish against such actions, and custom has been variously modified by historical surroundings; but the source of the repugnance is purely unreasoning instinct. . . .
It is clear how these instincts could have arisen. In the animal world, they are, in the main, a necessity. The species that consumes itself, habitually inbreeds, or neglects its offspring, perishes. The unreasoning conditions of nature therefore have impressed strong aversions to such practices, or have suppressed the instincts toward them, in virtually all higher animals. From our animal ancestors we no doubt derive the same feelings; but as we are a "political animal," whose life is influenced by civilizational surroundings, and who is therefore apparently exempt from the operation of the laws of biological evolution, these inherited instincts may be entirely superfluous and useless to us. That in spite of this superfluity all men cling to them most tenaciously, reveals them to be only part of our blind natal make-up, as much so as the impulse that leads the dog to sacrifice himself for his master, the ant for her hill, the tigress for her young, and the salmon for his unborn progeny.
However, since man is constituted as a cultural being, his instincts must take shape according to his civilization. Hence there exist, in distant times and places, wide divergences or even contradictions of moral teaching, though the moral impulses are always the same.
To kill a stranger is often no crime, where society is organized on a restricted local basis, because the stranger is an enemy. Yet people who proclaim and practice this doctrine are no more given to murder among themselves than we are who justify only the shooting of an admitted national foe. The horizon is different in the two cases, the mental and social environments diverse, the scale of judgment various; but the principles according to which men determine whether a killing is a dastardly murder or an act of patriotic merit, are identical.
In the same way, the definitions of different nations as to what constitutes incest are as variable as their condemnation of the crime is universal. Some modern civilized people are shocked at marriage between uncle and niece, more tolerate cousin-marriage, but nearly all American Indians revolt at both. Until the most recent years Englishmen broke the law of their land if a woman succeeded her dead sister as wife; among innumerable nations the dead husband's brother feels it his duty to wed his sister-in-law. There are Australian tribes today among whom the woman that it is a man's duty to marry is his father's sister's daughter, while wedlock with the equivalent cousin through his mother's sister is an enormity and a crime.
In short, among all men there is a recognition of certain groups within which murder, theft, and marriage are wrong. The extent and composition of the groups vary tremendously from people to people, but this variation is an accident of political or intellectual development, and in itself no index or effect of morality. . . .
We have seen the ethical ideals of different times and places to be highly colored by custom and by historical, economic, and intellectual surroundings, perhaps by natural environment even, although everywhere resting on the same basis and actuated by the same principles. There is also much variety in the terminology of the explanations given of morality. Of course religion has been particularly active here. In ancient Palestine Jehovah, the mountain, and the stone tablets were brought forward as a convincing argument, just as in native California Chungichnish with his associates the raven and the rattlesnake furnished the reason why we should be good rather than bad. Even when the ritualistic apparatus is passed by, or does not exist, there is a divergence of explanation, for a "child of nature" has neither the ideas nor the language of a dialectic thinker. And yet, after all, [Immanuel Kant,] the greatest philosopher since the Greeks, fell back, in the search for a basis of ethics, upon the "categorical imperative"; and it is doubtful whether in this conception, however satisfying it may be to our genuine and more advanced intellectual needs, he essentially transcended the American Indian's answer, to the question why a certain action is objectionable: "because it is bad." . . .
Nothing is more erroneous than the wide-spread idea and oft-repeated statement that the savage is only a child. In knowledge, to a certain extent in intellect even, he may not rank above the children of civilization; but in character, in emotions, and in morals, he is essentially and absolutely a man. . . . Men are men and essentially alike wherever born and however reared, and breadth of view uninfluenced by doctrinal purpose has always subscribed to this opinion. There is every reason to believe, accordingly, that uncivilized and civilized men practice what they respectively regard as virtue, to the same degree.
In short, the moral element in humanity is basically instinctive. If we believe in evolution from animals, we must find the source of human morality, as of human senses and emotions, in animal life. Being an inherent element of the human mind, it is psychologically unexplainable and finds its justification only in itself. As an integral constituent of man, it is common to all races in identical or virtually identical form. Variations in moral ideas are reflections of changes in civilization. As civilization, however, is something outside of race and independent of the human body; and as it affects only the body of knowledge possessed by a people and the actions connected with this knowledge, the principles of morality cannot be influenced by civilization, however the concrete expression of these principles may vary in their adaptation to particular forms of civilization. The apparent difference between the morality of savages and ourselves is therefore not really in the morality but in the civilization.
About the Author
Alfred L. Kroeber Alfred L. Kroeber was a major 20th-century U.S. anthropologist who gained particular fame for studying the language and customs of the Yahi people of California with the group's last surviving member, Ishi. An important anthropological researcher, theorist, and author, Kroeber influenced a generation of anthropologists from his post at the University of California and through his many published works. Among his most important contributions to the field are The Religion of the Indians of California (1907), Anthropology (1923), Handbook of the Indians of California (1925), Configurations of Culture Growth (1944), The Nature of Culture (1952), and Style and Civilizations (1957).
MLA Citation
"International Activity: Is Our Understanding of the World Dependent on Our Culture?" World Geography: Understanding a Changing World, ABC-CLIO, 2021, worldgeography.abc- clio.com/Support/InvestigateActivity/1346356. Accessed 4 Oct. 2021.
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This content may be used for non-commercial, educational purposes only. https://worldgeography.abc-clio.com/Support/InvestigateActivity/1346356 Cultural Relativism
Activity
Inquiry Question Is our understanding of the world dependent on our culture?
The image at right shows Franz Boas, proponent of the idea of cultural relativism, demonstrating a ritual of the Hamatsa group of Canada's Kwakiutl people. Since European explorers first began to travel the wider world and came into contact with peoples and places with which they were wholly unfamiliar, scholars have attempted to make sense of the diversity of human society and activity. European traditions of catholicity—that some ideas, particularly religious ones, were universally applicable— led in part to colonial attempts to stamp out native cultures and assimilate all the people of the world into European belief systems. Many believed that non-European cultures were "primitive" or "backward" in their development, with Western civilization held up as the highest form of society and culture and the arbiter of what was true and right. As science came to explain more of the physical world, scholars sought to use scientific methods to study humans and their societies, often in an effort to develop rules for cultural evolution and to determine the "progress" of various groups.
Beginning in the late 1800s, however, a generation of anthropologists began to take a different view. This new generation, led by the groundbreaking ethnologist and polymath Boas, eschewed the ends of science and took a view previously confined to philosophy—that the subjective experiences of humans were dependent at least in part, if not entirely, upon their cultural environment. In an 1887 article on museums, Boas dropped a bombshell that would forever alter antropological study when he wrote about "the dissemination of the fact that civilization is not something absolute, but that it is relative, and that our ideas and conceptions are true only so far as our civilization goes." The field of cultural anthropology, the study of diverse cultures and worldviews on their own terms, developed from this seed, and today students the world over face the same question that Boas once asked himself: Is our understanding of the world around us dependent on our culture?
Background Information
Social Sciences The roots of the modern discipline of anthropology lie in the latter half of the 19th century, a time when the methods and aims of science were being applied to a diversity of subjects in an effort to establish the degree of certitude afforded to natural sciences like physics, biology, and chemistry. Essentially, it was thought that if scientific advances in physics could lead to engineering feats like suspension bridges and skyscrapers, then similar advances in the understanding of the human world should lead to more appropriate policies concerning society, government, and human endeavors. This followed the mid-19th century development of positivism—a term popularized by French philosopher and pioneering sociologist Auguste Comte—and "social sciences" began to emerge and grow in popularity. Earlier descriptions of non-Western peoples by travelers, missionaries, explorers, and scholars tended to be deductive—that is, conclusions were drawn logically by comparing particular evidence with one's existing assumptions, making judgments about specific things depending on larger preexisting judgments about their nature and place. In the positivist tradition of the social sciences, however, the first formal anthropologists hoped to use inductive reasoning—whereby conclusions are based upon observations of specific instances that may produce patterns that can be used to formulate more general rules—to uncover universal laws about societies and the human condition. Among the social sciences, the discipline of anthropology began to emerge as a positivist "study of man," particularly in the United Kingdom and United States.
Anthropologists of the late 19th and early 20th centuries undertook efforts to study, measure, document, and compare the various people of the world. Many early efforts were concerned primarily with laying the foundations for inductive study by performing fieldwork among various peoples around the world who were not well understood by Western scholars, gathering all sorts of data, from physical measurements of body parts to descriptions of their dress, customs, and living arrangements. Sociologists of the time, including important thinkers like émile Durkheim and Herbert Spencer, often used such data to explain and classify human societies based upon ideas from biology, describing them as repeating the sorts of functions, composition, and evolution observed in the natural world. At the same time, other scholars used the data to develop theories of societal evolution based upon the influential ideas of Charles Darwin, in some cases promoting a scientific racism that held physical and cultural differences to indicate the natural inferiority of certain groups. These ideas influenced, and were at times furthered by, many anthropologists of the era. Anthropology was thus intimately tied to both sociology and the natural sciences, and adopted elements of both; in fact, there was so much overlap that it is often difficult to differentiate them.
Building upon a general notion of societal evolution that had been popular since the 18th century and was bolstered by analogy to Darwinian evolution, it became increasingly fashionable to hold that human societies progress through a series of stages, from simple to complex, according to a variety of factors. Among the implications of this theory was that smaller, more exotic societies were evolutionarily backward or primitive and that Western society was superior in its more highly evolved complexities; in a sense, it was held that the relationship between the society and lifestyle of a British industrialist and that of a Papuan tribesman was akin to that between a human and a chimpanzee (or perhaps Cro Magnon man and Australopithecus). Armed with such conceptions, colonialism became a noble undertaking—the "White Man's Burden," as famously put by British author Rudyard Kipling in his 1899 poem by the same name— whereby Europeans "bettered" the "primitive" peoples of the world by introducing them to European ways and ideas. Such undertakings were further fueled by scientific racism sometimes based upon anthropologists' data.
Yet anthropological fieldwork also led to the evolution of the idea of culture. Once defined as the trappings of high civilization and set apart as a distinguishing factor between highly evolved societies and primitive ones, culture came to be defined more broadly by anthropologists as the collection of all customs and beliefs held by a particular group. U.S. anthropologist Lewis Henry Morgan and his British colleague Edward Burnett Tylor utilized this broader idea of culture to put forward theories of societal and cultural evolution, incorporating technology, religion, law, art, medical practices, and many other customs into their analyses. What emerged was a concept of culture as an all-encompassing summary of the many facets of life within a group. Various cultures could be compared, and many early anthropologists did just that, fashioning a comparative method that led rather directly to ideas of cultural evolution and progress. It was thought that anthropologists and sociologists could discover laws about societies and their evolution by comparing cultural data from groups across the world and finding patterns that would indicate the trajectory of that evolution.
The German-American anthropologist Franz Boas was among the first to openly question the comparative method. Boas believed that cultures were not necessarily comparable; in a sense, he found that comparing two unrelated cultures was like comparing two unrelated fruits—one can learn little about pineapples by examining apples, and it would be wrong to assume that an apple is just a primitive pineapple because the pineapple is larger and more apparently complex. Instead of the comparative method, Boas preferred a method, similar to that popular among historians at the time, that prioritized unbiased description placed within its proper context and discarded the need for laws governing general societal or cultural evolution. Eventually, Boas came to espouse an idea now known as cultural relativism, the cornerstone of which was the concept that a culture must be understood on its own terms, not as part of a larger theory or in relation to another culture. In order to perform ethnographic fieldwork properly, it was thus necessary for anthropologists to immerse themselves as much as possible in the culture they were studying. In this tradition, fieldwork was to be less like scientific labwork and more like method acting.
Boas proved to be enormously influential in the United States, and an entire generation of American anthropologists studied under him or one of his early protégés; he directly taught such important figures as Alfred Kroeber, Robert Lowie, Edward Sapir, Ruth Benedict, and Margaret Mead. Since this was also the formative period for many U.S. universities, these disciples founded and populated anthropology programs throughout the country and institutionalized their methods. Other anthropologists—notably the Englishman A.R. Radcliffe-Brown— attempted to salvage the scientific and comparative aspects of anthropology by focusing on analyses and taxonomies of cultural systems, but by the 1960s the original positivist ideal was maligned by most anthropologists. Today, the methods of cultural anthropology (or social anthropology in the United Kingdom) are still primarily based upon ideas of cultural relativism, and it is commonly taught that unbiased, context-sensitive work should be at the heart of anthropological endeavors. Each society presents its own subject matter, to be examined and conveyed to members of other societies and cultural groups, and the popularization of both the methods and results of anthropological work have allowed for a wider understanding of the true diversity of humankind.
Evan Brown
MLA Citation: Brown, Evan. "Social Sciences." World Geography: Understanding a Changing World, ABC-CLIO, 2021, worldgeography.abc-clio.com/Search/Display/1346358. Accessed 4 Oct. 2021. Source
Commentary
Excerpt from "The Mind of Primitive Man" (1901)
The activities of the mind manifest themselves in thoughts and actions, and exhibit an infinite variety of form among the peoples of the world. In order to understand these clearly, the student must endeavor to divest himself entirely of opinions and emotions based upon the peculiar social environment into which he is born. He must adapt his own mind, so far as feasible, to that of the people whom he is studying. The more successful he is in freeing himself from the bias based on the group of ideas that constitute the civilization in which he lives, the more successful he will be in interpreting the beliefs and actions of man. He must follow lines of thought that are new to him. He must participate in new emotions, and understand how, under unwonted conditions, both lead to actions. Beliefs, customs, and the response of the individual to the events of daily life, give us ample opportunity to observe the manifestations of the mind of man under varying conditions. . . .
In our own community a mass of observations and of thoughts is transmitted to the child. These thoughts are the result of careful observation and speculation of our present and of past generations; but they are transmitted to most individuals as traditional matter, much the same as folklore. The child associates new perceptions with this whole mass of traditional material, and interprets his observations by its means. I believe it is a mistake to assume that the interpretation made by each civilized individual is a complete logical process. We associate a phenomenon with a number of known facts, the interpretations of which are assumed as known, and we are satisfied with the reduction of a new fact to these previously known facts. For instance, if the average individual hears of the explosion of a previously unknown chemical, he is satisfied to reason that certain materials are known to have the property of exploding under proper conditions, and that consequently the unknown substance has the same quality. . . .
The instruction given to the child of primitive man is not based on centuries of experimentation, but consists of the crude experience of generations. When a new experience enters the mind of primitive man, the same process which we observe among civilized man brings about an entirely different series of associations, and therefore results in a different type of explanation. A sudden explosion will associate itself in his mind, perhaps, with tales which he has heard in regard to the mythical history of the world, and consequently will be accompanied by superstitious fear. When we recognize that, neither among civilized man nor among primitive man, the average individual carries to completion the attempt at causal explanation of phenomena, but carries it only so far as to amalgamate it with other previously knownPage 4facts, of 15 we recognize that the result of the whole process depends entirely upon the character of the traditional material: herein lies the immense importance of folklore in determining the mode of thought. Herein lies particularly the enormous influence of current philosophic opinion upon the masses of the people, and herein lies the influence of the dominant scientific theory upon the character of scientific work.
It would be in vain to try to understand the development of modern science without an intelligent understanding of modern philosophy; it would be in vain to try to understand the history of medieval science without an intelligent knowledge of medieval theology; and so it is in vain to try to understand primitive science without an intelligent knowledge of primitive mythology. Mythology, theology and philosophy are different terms for the same influences which shape the current of human thought, and which determine the character of the attempts of man to explain the phenomena of nature. To primitive man—who has been taught to consider the heavenly orbs as animate beings, who sees in every animal a being more powerful than man, to whom the mountains, trees and stones are endowed with life—explanations of phenomena will suggest themselves entirely different from those to which we are accustomed, since we base our conclusions upon the existence of matter and force as bringing about the observed results. If we do not consider it possible to explain the whole range of phenomena as the result of matter and force alone, all our explanations of natural phenomena must take a different aspect.
In scientific inquiries we should always be clear in our own minds of the fact that we do not carry the analysis of any given phenomenon to completion; but that we always embody a number of hypotheses and theories in our explanations. In fact, if we were to do so, progress would hardly become possible, because every phenomenon would require an endless amount of time for thorough treatment. We are only too apt, however, to forget entirely the general, and, for most of us, purely traditional, theoretical basis which is the foundation of our reasoning, and to assume that the result of our reasoning is absolute truth. . . .
The influence of traditional material upon the life of man is not restricted to his thoughts, but manifests itself no less in his activities. . . . When we consider, for instance, the whole range of our daily life, we notice how strictly we are dependent upon tradition that can not be accounted for by any logical reasoning. We eat our three meals every day, and feel unhappy if we have to forego one of them. There is no physiological reason which demands three meals a day, and we find that many people are satisfied with two meals, while others enjoy four or even more. The range of animals and plants which we utilize for food is limited, and we have a decided aversion against eating dogs, or horses, or cats. There is certainly no objective reason for such aversion, since a great many people consider dogs and horses as dainties. . . . The whole range of actions that are considered as proper and improper can not be explained by any logical reason, but are almost all entirely due to custom; that is to say, they are purely traditional. This is even true of customs which excite strong emotions, as, for instance, those produced by infractions of modesty. . . .
No action can find the approval of a people which is fundamentally opposed to its customs and traditions. Among ourselves it is considered proper and a matter of course to treat the old with respect, for children to look after the welfare of their aged parents; and not to do so would be considered base ingratitude. Among the Eskimo we find an entirely different standard. It is required of children to kill their parents when they have become so old as to be helpless and no longer of any use to the family or to the community. It would be considered a breach of filial duty not to kill the aged parent. Revolting though this custom may seem to us, it is founded on an ethical law of the Eskimo, which rests on the whole mass of traditional lore and custom. . . .
It is somewhat difficult for us to recognize that the value which we attribute to our own civilization is due to the fact that we participate in this civilization, and that it has been controlling all our actions since the time of our birth; but it is certainly conceivable that there may be other civilizations, based perhaps on different traditions and on a different equilibrium of emotion and reason which are of no less value than ours, although it may be impossible for us to appreciate their values without having grown up under their influence.
About the Author
Franz Boas Franz Boas was a leading anthropologist in the United States during the late 19th and early 20th centuries. Sometimes referred to as the "father of American anthropology," Boas was among the most influential theorists, field researchers, and instructors of his era. His most important works include "The Limitations of the Comparative Method of Anthropology" (1896), The Mind of Primitive Man (in book form, as opposed to the earlier article by the same name; 1911), "Changes in the Bodily Form of the Descendants of Immigrants" (1912), "Mythology and Folktales of the North American Indians" (1914), Primitive Art (1927), and Race, Language, and Culture (1940).
Source
Commentary
Excerpt from Folkways (1906)
The folkways are the "right" ways to satisfy all interests, because they are traditional, and exist in fact. They extend over the whole of life. There is a right way to catch game, to win a wife, to make one's self appear, to cure disease, to honor ghosts, to treat comrades or strangers, to behave when a child is born, on the warpath, in council, and so on in all cases which can arise. . . . The "right" way is the way which the ancestors used and which has been handed down. The tradition is its own warrant. It is not held subject to verification by experience. The notion of right is in the folkways. It is not outside of them, of independent origin, and brought to them to test them. In the folkways, whatever is, is right. . . . "Rights" are the rules of mutual give and take in the competition of life which are imposed on comrades in the in-group, in order that the peace may prevail there which is essential to the group strength. Therefore rights can never be "natural" or "God-given," or absolute in any sense. The morality of a group at a time is the sum of the taboos and prescriptions in the folkways by which right conduct is defined. Therefore morals can never be intuitive. They are historical, institutional, and empirical.
World philosophy, life policy, right, rights, and morality are all products of the folkways. . . . The faith in the world philosophy drew lines outside of which the folkways must not go. Crude and vague notions of societal welfare were formed from the notion of pleasing the ghosts, and from such notions of expediency as the opinion that, if there were not children enough, there would not be warriors enough, or that, if there were too many children, the food supply would not be adequate. The notion of welfare was an inference and resultant from these mystic and utilitarian generalizations.
When the elements of truth and right are developed into doctrines of welfare, the folkways are raised to another plane. They then become capable of producing inferences, developing into new forms, and extending their constructive influence over men and society. Then we call them the mores. The mores are the folkways, including the philosophical and ethical generalizations as to societal welfare which are suggested by them, and inherent in them, as they grow. . . .
The mores come down to us from the past. Each individual is born into them as he is born into the atmosphere, and he does not reflect on them, or criticise them any more than a baby analyzes the atmosphere before he begins to breathe it. Each one is subjected to the influence of the mores, and formed by them, before he is capable of reasoning about them. . . . Nothing can ever change them but the unconscious and imperceptible movement of the mores. Religion was originally a matter of the mores. It became a societal institution and a function of the state. It has now to a great extent been put back into the mores. Since laws with penalties to enforce religious creeds or practices have gone out of use any one may think and act as he pleases about religion. . . . Democracy is in our American mores. It is a product of our physical and economic conditions. It is impossible to discuss or criticise it. It is glorified for popularity, and is a subject of dithyrambic rhetoric. No one treats it with complete candor and sincerity. No one dares to analyze it as he would aristocracy or autocracy. He would get no hearing and would only incur abuse. . . . The mores contain the norm by which, if we should discuss the mores, we should have to judge the mores. We learn the mores as unconsciously as we learn to walk and eat and breathe. The masses never learn how we walk, and eat, and breathe, and they never know any reason why the mores are what they are. The justification of them is that when we wake to consciousness of life we find them facts which already hold us in the bonds of tradition, custom, and habit. The mores contain embodied in them notions, doctrines, and maxims, but they are facts. They are in the present tense. They have nothing to do with what ought to be, will be, may be, or once was, if it is not now. . . .
A society does not record its mores in its annals, because they are to it unnoticed and unconscious. When we try to learn the mores of any age or people we have to seek our information in incidental references, allusions, observations of travelers, etc. Generally works of fiction, drama, etc., give us more information about the mores than historical records. . . . The mores are not recorded for the same reason that meals, going to bed, sunrise, etc., are not recorded, unless the regular course of things is broken.
We see that we must conceive of the mores as a vast system of usages, covering the whole of life, and serving all its interests; also containing in themselves their own justification by tradition and use and wont, and approved by mystic sanctions until, by rational reflection, they develop their own philosophical and ethical generalizations, which are elevated into "principles" of truth and right. They coerce and restrict the newborn generation. They do not stimulate to thought, but the contrary. The thinking is already done and is embodied in the mores. They never contain any provision for their own amendment. They are not questions, but answers, to the problem of life. They present themselves as final and unchangeable, because they present answers which are offered as "the truth." . . .
All the groups whose mores we consider far inferior to our own are quite as well satisfied with theirs as we are with ours. The goodness or badness of mores consists entirely in their adjustment to the life conditions and the interests of the time and place. Therefore it is a sign of ease and welfare when no thought is given to the mores, but all cooperate in them instinctively. . . .
At every turn we find new evidence that the mores can make anything right. What they do is that they cover a usage in dress, language, behavior, manners, etc., with the mantle of current custom, and give it regulation and limits within which it becomes unquestionable. The limit is generally a limit of toleration. . . . In regard to all social customs, the mores sanction them by defining them and giving them form. Such regulated customs are etiquette. The regulation by the mores always gives order and form, and thus surrounds life with limits within which we may and beyond which we may not pursue our interests (e.g., property and marriage). . . . The mores set the limits or define the disapproval. . . .
It cannot be doubted that, at any time, all ethical judgments are made through the atmosphere of the mores of the time. It is they which tell us what is right. It is only by high mental discipline that we can be trained to rise above that atmosphere and form rational judgments on current cases. This mental independence and ethical power are the highest products of education. They are also perilous. Our worst cranks are those who get the independence and power, but cannot stand alone and form correct judgments outside of the mores of the time and place. It must be remembered that the mores sometimes becloud the judgment, but they more often guide it.
About the Author
WIlliam Graham Sumner William Graham Sumner was an influential historian, economist, social scientist, critic, and teacher. Though often known primarily for his social Darwinist and free-market economic theories, he also wrote on a variety of other subjects, including cultural development and its effect on human societies. Among his many works are A History of American Currency (1874), What Social Classes Owe Each Other (1883), Protectionism (1885), The Financier and Finances of the American Revolution (1891), A History of Banking in All the Leading Nations (1896), Folkways (1906), and The Science of Society (1927).
Source
Commentary
Excerpt from "The Morals of Uncivilized People" (1910)
[H]owever great or small their power of reasoning, it is conceded that the mental endowment of all living beings lower than man is essentially if not altogether instinctive. . . . As there is nothing homologous to the rudest culture or civilization among even the highest animals, custom cannot materially influence them, and their equivalent of our morality must be entirely instinctive.
But when humanity is considered, the alleged distinction between the uncivilized and civilized races seems untrue. That any people, or any person even, has ever really regulated conduct by ideas or reason, is a delusion. The delusion is a common one because it is pleasing to flatter ourselves that our acts spring from purely rational motives. In fact, and of course, all real action precedes and determines intellectual reasoning, which, being analytical, cannot but be ex post facto [after the fact] and secondary. If this is true of ourselves, it obviously applies to people of less civilization, and must be a basic trait of all mankind, inherent in the constitution of human nature. . . .
There can be no doubt that the essential moral ideas of man spring from instinct. The repugnance toward murder, appropriation of the possessions of others, treachery, and want of hospitality, is based as little on considerations of social advantage or logical deductions as the sentiments are common to all races and times. The actions that are naturally the most abhorrent to everyone, such as cannibalism, incest, and lack of parental or filial devotion, are so thoroughly instinctive that these crimes have hardly had to be dealt with by most people, and their rarity and want of infectiousness are recognized in the frequent failure of creeds and codes to provide against them. Custom has further strengthened and shaped the inborn resentment we cherish against such actions, and custom has been variously modified by historical surroundings; but the source of the repugnance is purely unreasoning instinct. . . .
It is clear how these instincts could have arisen. In the animal world, they are, in the main, a necessity. The species that consumes itself, habitually inbreeds, or neglects its offspring, perishes. The unreasoning conditions of nature therefore have impressed strong aversions to such practices, or have suppressed the instincts toward them, in virtually all higher animals. From our animal ancestors we no doubt derive the same feelings; but as we are a "political animal," whose life is influenced by civilizational surroundings, and who is therefore apparently exempt from the operation of the laws of biological evolution, these inherited instincts may be entirely superfluous and useless to us. That in spite of this superfluity all men cling to them most tenaciously, reveals them to be only part of our blind natal make-up, as much so as the impulse that leads the dog to sacrifice himself for his master, the ant for her hill, the tigress for her young, and the salmon for his unborn progeny.
However, since man is constituted as a cultural being, his instincts must take shape according to his civilization. Hence there exist, in distant times and places, wide divergences or even contradictions of moral teaching, though the moral impulses are always the same.
To kill a stranger is often no crime, where society is organized on a restricted local basis, because the stranger is an enemy. Yet people who proclaim and practice this doctrine are no more given to murder among themselves than we are who justify only the shooting of an admitted national foe. The horizon is different in the two cases, the mental and social environments diverse, the scale of judgment various; but the principles according to which men determine whether a killing is a dastardly murder or an act of patriotic merit, are identical.
In the same way, the definitions of different nations as to what constitutes incest are as variable as their condemnation of the crime is universal. Some modern civilized people are shocked at marriage between uncle and niece, more tolerate cousin-marriage, but nearly all American Indians revolt at both. Until the most recent years Englishmen broke the law of their land if a woman succeeded her dead sister as wife; among innumerable nations the dead husband's brother feels it his duty to wed his sister-in-law. There are Australian tribes today among whom the woman that it is a man's duty to marry is his father's sister's daughter, while wedlock with the equivalent cousin through his mother's sister is an enormity and a crime.
In short, among all men there is a recognition of certain groups within which murder, theft, and marriage are wrong. The extent and composition of the groups vary tremendously from people to people, but this variation is an accident of political or intellectual development, and in itself no index or effect of morality. . . .
We have seen the ethical ideals of different times and places to be highly colored by custom and by historical, economic, and intellectual surroundings, perhaps by natural environment even, although everywhere resting on the same basis and actuated by the same principles. There is also much variety in the terminology of the explanations given of morality. Of course religion has been particularly active here. In ancient Palestine Jehovah, the mountain, and the stone tablets were brought forward as a convincing argument, just as in native California Chungichnish with his associates the raven and the rattlesnake furnished the reason why we should be good rather than bad. Even when the ritualistic apparatus is passed by, or does not exist, there is a divergence of explanation, for a "child of nature" has neither the ideas nor the language of a dialectic thinker. And yet, after all, [Immanuel Kant,] the greatest philosopher since the Greeks, fell back, in the search for a basis of ethics, upon the "categorical imperative"; and it is doubtful whether in this conception, however satisfying it may be to our genuine and more advanced intellectual needs, he essentially transcended the American Indian's answer, to the question why a certain action is objectionable: "because it is bad." . . .
Nothing is more erroneous than the wide-spread idea and oft-repeated statement that the savage is only a child. In knowledge, to a certain extent in intellect even, he may not rank above the children of civilization; but in character, in emotions, and in morals, he is essentially and absolutely a man. . . . Men are men and essentially alike wherever born and however reared, and breadth of view uninfluenced by doctrinal purpose has always subscribed to this opinion. There is every reason to believe, accordingly, that uncivilized and civilized men practice what they respectively regard as virtue, to the same degree.
In short, the moral element in humanity is basically instinctive. If we believe in evolution from animals, we must find the source of human morality, as of human senses and emotions, in animal life. Being an inherent element of the human mind, it is psychologically unexplainable and finds its justification only in itself. As an integral constituent of man, it is common to all races in identical or virtually identical form. Variations in moral ideas are reflections of changes in civilization. As civilization, however, is something outside of race and independent of the human body; and as it affects only the body of knowledge possessed by a people and the actions connected with this knowledge, the principles of morality cannot be influenced by civilization, however the concrete expression of these principles may vary in their adaptation to particular forms of civilization. The apparent difference between the morality of savages and ourselves is therefore not really in the morality but in the civilization.
About the Author
Alfred L. Kroeber Alfred L. Kroeber was a major 20th-century U.S. anthropologist who gained particular fame for studying the language and customs of the Yahi people of California with the group's last surviving member, Ishi. An important anthropological researcher, theorist, and author, Kroeber influenced a generation of anthropologists from his post at the University of California and through his many published works. Among his most important contributions to the field are The Religion of the Indians of California (1907), Anthropology (1923), Handbook of the Indians of California (1925), Configurations of Culture Growth (1944), The Nature of Culture (1952), and Style and Civilizations (1957).
MLA Citation
"International Activity: Is Our Understanding of the World Dependent on Our Culture?" World Geography: Understanding a Changing World, ABC-CLIO, 2021, worldgeography.abc- clio.com/Support/InvestigateActivity/1346356. Accessed 4 Oct. 2021.
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This content may be used for non-commercial, educational purposes only. https://worldgeography.abc-clio.com/Support/InvestigateActivity/1346356 Cultural Relativism
Activity
Inquiry Question Is our understanding of the world dependent on our culture?
The image at right shows Franz Boas, proponent of the idea of cultural relativism, demonstrating a ritual of the Hamatsa group of Canada's Kwakiutl people. Since European explorers first began to travel the wider world and came into contact with peoples and places with which they were wholly unfamiliar, scholars have attempted to make sense of the diversity of human society and activity. European traditions of catholicity—that some ideas, particularly religious ones, were universally applicable— led in part to colonial attempts to stamp out native cultures and assimilate all the people of the world into European belief systems. Many believed that non-European cultures were "primitive" or "backward" in their development, with Western civilization held up as the highest form of society and culture and the arbiter of what was true and right. As science came to explain more of the physical world, scholars sought to use scientific methods to study humans and their societies, often in an effort to develop rules for cultural evolution and to determine the "progress" of various groups.
Beginning in the late 1800s, however, a generation of anthropologists began to take a different view. This new generation, led by the groundbreaking ethnologist and polymath Boas, eschewed the ends of science and took a view previously confined to philosophy—that the subjective experiences of humans were dependent at least in part, if not entirely, upon their cultural environment. In an 1887 article on museums, Boas dropped a bombshell that would forever alter antropological study when he wrote about "the dissemination of the fact that civilization is not something absolute, but that it is relative, and that our ideas and conceptions are true only so far as our civilization goes." The field of cultural anthropology, the study of diverse cultures and worldviews on their own terms, developed from this seed, and today students the world over face the same question that Boas once asked himself: Is our understanding of the world around us dependent on our culture?
Background Information
Social Sciences The roots of the modern discipline of anthropology lie in the latter half of the 19th century, a time when the methods and aims of science were being applied to a diversity of subjects in an effort to establish the degree of certitude afforded to natural sciences like physics, biology, and chemistry. Essentially, it was thought that if scientific advances in physics could lead to engineering feats like suspension bridges and skyscrapers, then similar advances in the understanding of the human world should lead to more appropriate policies concerning society, government, and human endeavors. This followed the mid-19th century development of positivism—a term popularized by French philosopher and pioneering sociologist Auguste Comte—and "social sciences" began to emerge and grow in popularity. Earlier descriptions of non-Western peoples by travelers, missionaries, explorers, and scholars tended to be deductive—that is, conclusions were drawn logically by comparing particular evidence with one's existing assumptions, making judgments about specific things depending on larger preexisting judgments about their nature and place. In the positivist tradition of the social sciences, however, the first formal anthropologists hoped to use inductive reasoning—whereby conclusions are based upon observations of specific instances that may produce patterns that can be used to formulate more general rules—to uncover universal laws about societies and the human condition. Among the social sciences, the discipline of anthropology began to emerge as a positivist "study of man," particularly in the United Kingdom and United States.
Anthropologists of the late 19th and early 20th centuries undertook efforts to study, measure, document, and compare the various people of the world. Many early efforts were concerned primarily with laying the foundations for inductive study by performing fieldwork among various peoples around the world who were not well understood by Western scholars, gathering all sorts of data, from physical measurements of body parts to descriptions of their dress, customs, and living arrangements. Sociologists of the time, including important thinkers like émile Durkheim and Herbert Spencer, often used such data to explain and classify human societies based upon ideas from biology, describing them as repeating the sorts of functions, composition, and evolution observed in the natural world. At the same time, other scholars used the data to develop theories of societal evolution based upon the influential ideas of Charles Darwin, in some cases promoting a scientific racism that held physical and cultural differences to indicate the natural inferiority of certain groups. These ideas influenced, and were at times furthered by, many anthropologists of the era. Anthropology was thus intimately tied to both sociology and the natural sciences, and adopted elements of both; in fact, there was so much overlap that it is often difficult to differentiate them.
Building upon a general notion of societal evolution that had been popular since the 18th century and was bolstered by analogy to Darwinian evolution, it became increasingly fashionable to hold that human societies progress through a series of stages, from simple to complex, according to a variety of factors. Among the implications of this theory was that smaller, more exotic societies were evolutionarily backward or primitive and that Western society was superior in its more highly evolved complexities; in a sense, it was held that the relationship between the society and lifestyle of a British industrialist and that of a Papuan tribesman was akin to that between a human and a chimpanzee (or perhaps Cro Magnon man and Australopithecus). Armed with such conceptions, colonialism became a noble undertaking—the "White Man's Burden," as famously put by British author Rudyard Kipling in his 1899 poem by the same name— whereby Europeans "bettered" the "primitive" peoples of the world by introducing them to European ways and ideas. Such undertakings were further fueled by scientific racism sometimes based upon anthropologists' data.
Yet anthropological fieldwork also led to the evolution of the idea of culture. Once defined as the trappings of high civilization and set apart as a distinguishing factor between highly evolved societies and primitive ones, culture came to be defined more broadly by anthropologists as the collection of all customs and beliefs held by a particular group. U.S. anthropologist Lewis Henry Morgan and his British colleague Edward Burnett Tylor utilized this broader idea of culture to put forward theories of societal and cultural evolution, incorporating technology, religion, law, art, medical practices, and many other customs into their analyses. What emerged was a concept of culture as an all-encompassing summary of the many facets of life within a group. Various cultures could be compared, and many early anthropologists did just that, fashioning a comparative method that led rather directly to ideas of cultural evolution and progress. It was thought that anthropologists and sociologists could discover laws about societies and their evolution by comparing cultural data from groups across the world and finding patterns that would indicate the trajectory of that evolution.
The German-American anthropologist Franz Boas was among the first to openly question the comparative method. Boas believed that cultures were not necessarily comparable; in a sense, he found that comparing two unrelated cultures was like comparing two unrelated fruits—one can learn little about pineapples by examining apples, and it would be wrong to assume that an apple is just a primitive pineapple because the pineapple is larger and more apparently complex. Instead of the comparative method, Boas preferred a method, similar to that popular among historians at the time, that prioritized unbiased description placed within its proper context and discarded the need for laws governing general societal or cultural evolution. Eventually, Boas came to espouse an idea now known as cultural relativism, the cornerstone of which was the concept that a culture must be understood on its own terms, not as part of a larger theory or in relation to another culture. In order to perform ethnographic fieldwork properly, it was thus necessary for anthropologists to immerse themselves as much as possible in the culture they were studying. In this tradition, fieldwork was to be less like scientific labwork and more like method acting.
Boas proved to be enormously influential in the United States, and an entire generation of American anthropologists studied under him or one of his early protégés; he directly taught such important figures as Alfred Kroeber, Robert Lowie, Edward Sapir, Ruth Benedict, and Margaret Mead. Since this was also the formative period for many U.S. universities, these disciples founded and populated anthropology programs throughout the country and institutionalized their methods. Other anthropologists—notably the Englishman A.R. Radcliffe-Brown— attempted to salvage the scientific and comparative aspects of anthropology by focusing on analyses and taxonomies of cultural systems, but by the 1960s the original positivist ideal was maligned by most anthropologists. Today, the methods of cultural anthropology (or social anthropology in the United Kingdom) are still primarily based upon ideas of cultural relativism, and it is commonly taught that unbiased, context-sensitive work should be at the heart of anthropological endeavors. Each society presents its own subject matter, to be examined and conveyed to members of other societies and cultural groups, and the popularization of both the methods and results of anthropological work have allowed for a wider understanding of the true diversity of humankind.
Evan Brown
MLA Citation: Brown, Evan. "Social Sciences." World Geography: Understanding a Changing World, ABC-CLIO, 2021, worldgeography.abc-clio.com/Search/Display/1346358. Accessed 4 Oct. 2021. Source
Commentary
Excerpt from "The Mind of Primitive Man" (1901)
The activities of the mind manifest themselves in thoughts and actions, and exhibit an infinite variety of form among the peoples of the world. In order to understand these clearly, the student must endeavor to divest himself entirely of opinions and emotions based upon the peculiar social environment into which he is born. He must adapt his own mind, so far as feasible, to that of the people whom he is studying. The more successful he is in freeing himself from the bias based on the group of ideas that constitute the civilization in which he lives, the more successful he will be in interpreting the beliefs and actions of man. He must follow lines of thought that are new to him. He must participate in new emotions, and understand how, under unwonted conditions, both lead to actions. Beliefs, customs, and the response of the individual to the events of daily life, give us ample opportunity to observe the manifestations of the mind of man under varying conditions. . . .
In our own community a mass of observations and of thoughts is transmitted to the child. These thoughts are the result of careful observation and speculation of our present and of past generations; but they are transmitted to most individuals as traditional matter, much the same as folklore. The child associates new perceptions with this whole mass of traditional material, and interprets his observations by its means. I believe it is a mistake to assume that the interpretation made by each civilized individual is a complete logical process. We associate a phenomenon with a number of known facts, the interpretations of which are assumed as known, and we are satisfied with the reduction of a new fact to these previously known facts. For instance, if the average individual hears of the explosion of a previously unknown chemical, he is satisfied to reason that certain materials are known to have the property of exploding under proper conditions, and that consequently the unknown substance has the same quality. . . .
The instruction given to the child of primitive man is not based on centuries of experimentation, but consists of the crude experience of generations. When a new experience enters the mind of primitive man, the same process which we observe among civilized man brings about an entirely different series of associations, and therefore results in a different type of explanation. A sudden explosion will associate itself in his mind, perhaps, with tales which he has heard in regard to the mythical history of the world, and consequently will be accompanied by superstitious fear. When we recognize that, neither among civilized man nor among primitive man, the average individual carries to completion the attempt at causal explanation of phenomena, but carries it only so far as to amalgamate it with other previously known facts, we recognize that the result of the whole process depends entirely upon the character of the traditional material: herein lies the immense importance of folklore in determining the mode of thought. Herein lies particularly the enormous influence of current philosophic opinion upon the masses of the people, and herein lies the influence of the dominant scientific theory upon the character of scientific work.
It would be in vain to try to understand the development of modern science without an intelligent understanding of modern philosophy; it would be in vain to try to understand the history of medievalPage science 5 of 15 without an intelligent knowledge of medieval theology; and so it is in vain to try to understand primitive science without an intelligent knowledge of primitive mythology. Mythology, theology and philosophy are different terms for the same influences which shape the current of human thought, and which determine the character of the attempts of man to explain the phenomena of nature. To primitive man—who has been taught to consider the heavenly orbs as animate beings, who sees in every animal a being more powerful than man, to whom the mountains, trees and stones are endowed with life—explanations of phenomena will suggest themselves entirely different from those to which we are accustomed, since we base our conclusions upon the existence of matter and force as bringing about the observed results. If we do not consider it possible to explain the whole range of phenomena as the result of matter and force alone, all our explanations of natural phenomena must take a different aspect.
In scientific inquiries we should always be clear in our own minds of the fact that we do not carry the analysis of any given phenomenon to completion; but that we always embody a number of hypotheses and theories in our explanations. In fact, if we were to do so, progress would hardly become possible, because every phenomenon would require an endless amount of time for thorough treatment. We are only too apt, however, to forget entirely the general, and, for most of us, purely traditional, theoretical basis which is the foundation of our reasoning, and to assume that the result of our reasoning is absolute truth. . . .
The influence of traditional material upon the life of man is not restricted to his thoughts, but manifests itself no less in his activities. . . . When we consider, for instance, the whole range of our daily life, we notice how strictly we are dependent upon tradition that can not be accounted for by any logical reasoning. We eat our three meals every day, and feel unhappy if we have to forego one of them. There is no physiological reason which demands three meals a day, and we find that many people are satisfied with two meals, while others enjoy four or even more. The range of animals and plants which we utilize for food is limited, and we have a decided aversion against eating dogs, or horses, or cats. There is certainly no objective reason for such aversion, since a great many people consider dogs and horses as dainties. . . . The whole range of actions that are considered as proper and improper can not be explained by any logical reason, but are almost all entirely due to custom; that is to say, they are purely traditional. This is even true of customs which excite strong emotions, as, for instance, those produced by infractions of modesty. . . .
No action can find the approval of a people which is fundamentally opposed to its customs and traditions. Among ourselves it is considered proper and a matter of course to treat the old with respect, for children to look after the welfare of their aged parents; and not to do so would be considered base ingratitude. Among the Eskimo we find an entirely different standard. It is required of children to kill their parents when they have become so old as to be helpless and no longer of any use to the family or to the community. It would be considered a breach of filial duty not to kill the aged parent. Revolting though this custom may seem to us, it is founded on an ethical law of the Eskimo, which rests on the whole mass of traditional lore and custom. . . .
It is somewhat difficult for us to recognize that the value which we attribute to our own civilization is due to the fact that we participate in this civilization, and that it has been controlling all our actions since the time of our birth; but it is certainly conceivable that there may be other civilizations, based perhaps on different traditions and on a different equilibrium of emotion and reason which are of no less value than ours, although it may be impossible for us to appreciate their values without having grown up under their influence.
About the Author
Franz Boas Franz Boas was a leading anthropologist in the United States during the late 19th and early 20th centuries. Sometimes referred to as the "father of American anthropology," Boas was among the most influential theorists, field researchers, and instructors of his era. His most important works include "The Limitations of the Comparative Method of Anthropology" (1896), The Mind of Primitive Man (in book form, as opposed to the earlier article by the same name; 1911), "Changes in the Bodily Form of the Descendants of Immigrants" (1912), "Mythology and Folktales of the North American Indians" (1914), Primitive Art (1927), and Race, Language, and Culture (1940).
Source
Commentary
Excerpt from Folkways (1906)
The folkways are the "right" ways to satisfy all interests, because they are traditional, and exist in fact. They extend over the whole of life. There is a right way to catch game, to win a wife, to make one's self appear, to cure disease, to honor ghosts, to treat comrades or strangers, to behave when a child is born, on the warpath, in council, and so on in all cases which can arise. . . . The "right" way is the way which the ancestors used and which has been handed down. The tradition is its own warrant. It is not held subject to verification by experience. The notion of right is in the folkways. It is not outside of them, of independent origin, and brought to them to test them. In the folkways, whatever is, is right. . . . "Rights" are the rules of mutual give and take in the competition of life which are imposed on comrades in the in-group, in order that the peace may prevail there which is essential to the group strength. Therefore rights can never be "natural" or "God-given," or absolute in any sense. The morality of a group at a time is the sum of the taboos and prescriptions in the folkways by which right conduct is defined. Therefore morals can never be intuitive. They are historical, institutional, and empirical.
World philosophy, life policy, right, rights, and morality are all products of the folkways. . . . The faith in the world philosophy drew lines outside of which the folkways must not go. Crude and vague notions of societal welfare were formed from the notion of pleasing the ghosts, and from such notions of expediency as the opinion that, if there were not children enough, there would not be warriors enough, or that, if there were too many children, the food supply would not be adequate. The notion of welfare was an inference and resultant from these mystic and utilitarian generalizations.
When the elements of truth and right are developed into doctrines of welfare, the folkways are raised to another plane. They then become capable of producing inferences, developing into new forms, and extending their constructive influence over men and society. Then we call them the mores. The mores are the folkways, including the philosophical and ethical generalizations as to societal welfare which are suggested by them, and inherent in them, as they grow. . . .
The mores come down to us from the past. Each individual is born into them as he is born into the atmosphere, and he does not reflect on them, or criticise them any more than a baby analyzes the atmosphere before he begins to breathe it. Each one is subjected to the influence of the mores, and formed by them, before he is capable of reasoning about them. . . . Nothing can ever change them but the unconscious and imperceptible movement of the mores. Religion was originally a matter of the mores. It became a societal institution and a function of the state. It has now to a great extent been put back into the mores. Since laws with penalties to enforce religious creeds or practices have gone out of use any one may think and act as he pleases about religion. . . . Democracy is in our American mores. It is a product of our physical and economic conditions. It is impossible to discuss or criticise it. It is glorified for popularity, and is a subject of dithyrambic rhetoric. No one treats it with complete candor and sincerity. No one dares to analyze it as he would aristocracy or autocracy. He would get no hearing and would only incur abuse. . . . The mores contain the norm by which, if we should discuss the mores, we should have to judge the mores. We learn the mores as unconsciously as we learn to walk and eat and breathe. The masses never learn how we walk, and eat, and breathe, and they never know any reason why the mores are what they are. The justification of them is that when we wake to consciousness of life we find them facts which already hold us in the bonds of tradition, custom, and habit. The mores contain embodied in them notions, doctrines, and maxims, but they are facts. They are in the present tense. They have nothing to do with what ought to be, will be, may be, or once was, if it is not now. . . .
A society does not record its mores in its annals, because they are to it unnoticed and unconscious. When we try to learn the mores of any age or people we have to seek our information in incidental references, allusions, observations of travelers, etc. Generally works of fiction, drama, etc., give us more information about the mores than historical records. . . . The mores are not recorded for the same reason that meals, going to bed, sunrise, etc., are not recorded, unless the regular course of things is broken.
We see that we must conceive of the mores as a vast system of usages, covering the whole of life, and serving all its interests; also containing in themselves their own justification by tradition and use and wont, and approved by mystic sanctions until, by rational reflection, they develop their own philosophical and ethical generalizations, which are elevated into "principles" of truth and right. They coerce and restrict the newborn generation. They do not stimulate to thought, but the contrary. The thinking is already done and is embodied in the mores. They never contain any provision for their own amendment. They are not questions, but answers, to the problem of life. They present themselves as final and unchangeable, because they present answers which are offered as "the truth." . . .
All the groups whose mores we consider far inferior to our own are quite as well satisfied with theirs as we are with ours. The goodness or badness of mores consists entirely in their adjustment to the life conditions and the interests of the time and place. Therefore it is a sign of ease and welfare when no thought is given to the mores, but all cooperate in them instinctively. . . .
At every turn we find new evidence that the mores can make anything right. What they do is that they cover a usage in dress, language, behavior, manners, etc., with the mantle of current custom, and give it regulation and limits within which it becomes unquestionable. The limit is generally a limit of toleration. . . . In regard to all social customs, the mores sanction them by defining them and giving them form. Such regulated customs are etiquette. The regulation by the mores always gives order and form, and thus surrounds life with limits within which we may and beyond which we may not pursue our interests (e.g., property and marriage). . . . The mores set the limits or define the disapproval. . . .
It cannot be doubted that, at any time, all ethical judgments are made through the atmosphere of the mores of the time. It is they which tell us what is right. It is only by high mental discipline that we can be trained to rise above that atmosphere and form rational judgments on current cases. This mental independence and ethical power are the highest products of education. They are also perilous. Our worst cranks are those who get the independence and power, but cannot stand alone and form correct judgments outside of the mores of the time and place. It must be remembered that the mores sometimes becloud the judgment, but they more often guide it.
About the Author
WIlliam Graham Sumner William Graham Sumner was an influential historian, economist, social scientist, critic, and teacher. Though often known primarily for his social Darwinist and free-market economic theories, he also wrote on a variety of other subjects, including cultural development and its effect on human societies. Among his many works are A History of American Currency (1874), What Social Classes Owe Each Other (1883), Protectionism (1885), The Financier and Finances of the American Revolution (1891), A History of Banking in All the Leading Nations (1896), Folkways (1906), and The Science of Society (1927).
Source
Commentary
Excerpt from "The Morals of Uncivilized People" (1910)
[H]owever great or small their power of reasoning, it is conceded that the mental endowment of all living beings lower than man is essentially if not altogether instinctive. . . . As there is nothing homologous to the rudest culture or civilization among even the highest animals, custom cannot materially influence them, and their equivalent of our morality must be entirely instinctive.
But when humanity is considered, the alleged distinction between the uncivilized and civilized races seems untrue. That any people, or any person even, has ever really regulated conduct by ideas or reason, is a delusion. The delusion is a common one because it is pleasing to flatter ourselves that our acts spring from purely rational motives. In fact, and of course, all real action precedes and determines intellectual reasoning, which, being analytical, cannot but be ex post facto [after the fact] and secondary. If this is true of ourselves, it obviously applies to people of less civilization, and must be a basic trait of all mankind, inherent in the constitution of human nature. . . .
There can be no doubt that the essential moral ideas of man spring from instinct. The repugnance toward murder, appropriation of the possessions of others, treachery, and want of hospitality, is based as little on considerations of social advantage or logical deductions as the sentiments are common to all races and times. The actions that are naturally the most abhorrent to everyone, such as cannibalism, incest, and lack of parental or filial devotion, are so thoroughly instinctive that these crimes have hardly had to be dealt with by most people, and their rarity and want of infectiousness are recognized in the frequent failure of creeds and codes to provide against them. Custom has further strengthened and shaped the inborn resentment we cherish against such actions, and custom has been variously modified by historical surroundings; but the source of the repugnance is purely unreasoning instinct. . . .
It is clear how these instincts could have arisen. In the animal world, they are, in the main, a necessity. The species that consumes itself, habitually inbreeds, or neglects its offspring, perishes. The unreasoning conditions of nature therefore have impressed strong aversions to such practices, or have suppressed the instincts toward them, in virtually all higher animals. From our animal ancestors we no doubt derive the same feelings; but as we are a "political animal," whose life is influenced by civilizational surroundings, and who is therefore apparently exempt from the operation of the laws of biological evolution, these inherited instincts may be entirely superfluous and useless to us. That in spite of this superfluity all men cling to them most tenaciously, reveals them to be only part of our blind natal make-up, as much so as the impulse that leads the dog to sacrifice himself for his master, the ant for her hill, the tigress for her young, and the salmon for his unborn progeny.
However, since man is constituted as a cultural being, his instincts must take shape according to his civilization. Hence there exist, in distant times and places, wide divergences or even contradictions of moral teaching, though the moral impulses are always the same.
To kill a stranger is often no crime, where society is organized on a restricted local basis, because the stranger is an enemy. Yet people who proclaim and practice this doctrine are no more given to murder among themselves than we are who justify only the shooting of an admitted national foe. The horizon is different in the two cases, the mental and social environments diverse, the scale of judgment various; but the principles according to which men determine whether a killing is a dastardly murder or an act of patriotic merit, are identical.
In the same way, the definitions of different nations as to what constitutes incest are as variable as their condemnation of the crime is universal. Some modern civilized people are shocked at marriage between uncle and niece, more tolerate cousin-marriage, but nearly all American Indians revolt at both. Until the most recent years Englishmen broke the law of their land if a woman succeeded her dead sister as wife; among innumerable nations the dead husband's brother feels it his duty to wed his sister-in-law. There are Australian tribes today among whom the woman that it is a man's duty to marry is his father's sister's daughter, while wedlock with the equivalent cousin through his mother's sister is an enormity and a crime.
In short, among all men there is a recognition of certain groups within which murder, theft, and marriage are wrong. The extent and composition of the groups vary tremendously from people to people, but this variation is an accident of political or intellectual development, and in itself no index or effect of morality. . . .
We have seen the ethical ideals of different times and places to be highly colored by custom and by historical, economic, and intellectual surroundings, perhaps by natural environment even, although everywhere resting on the same basis and actuated by the same principles. There is also much variety in the terminology of the explanations given of morality. Of course religion has been particularly active here. In ancient Palestine Jehovah, the mountain, and the stone tablets were brought forward as a convincing argument, just as in native California Chungichnish with his associates the raven and the rattlesnake furnished the reason why we should be good rather than bad. Even when the ritualistic apparatus is passed by, or does not exist, there is a divergence of explanation, for a "child of nature" has neither the ideas nor the language of a dialectic thinker. And yet, after all, [Immanuel Kant,] the greatest philosopher since the Greeks, fell back, in the search for a basis of ethics, upon the "categorical imperative"; and it is doubtful whether in this conception, however satisfying it may be to our genuine and more advanced intellectual needs, he essentially transcended the American Indian's answer, to the question why a certain action is objectionable: "because it is bad." . . .
Nothing is more erroneous than the wide-spread idea and oft-repeated statement that the savage is only a child. In knowledge, to a certain extent in intellect even, he may not rank above the children of civilization; but in character, in emotions, and in morals, he is essentially and absolutely a man. . . . Men are men and essentially alike wherever born and however reared, and breadth of view uninfluenced by doctrinal purpose has always subscribed to this opinion. There is every reason to believe, accordingly, that uncivilized and civilized men practice what they respectively regard as virtue, to the same degree.
In short, the moral element in humanity is basically instinctive. If we believe in evolution from animals, we must find the source of human morality, as of human senses and emotions, in animal life. Being an inherent element of the human mind, it is psychologically unexplainable and finds its justification only in itself. As an integral constituent of man, it is common to all races in identical or virtually identical form. Variations in moral ideas are reflections of changes in civilization. As civilization, however, is something outside of race and independent of the human body; and as it affects only the body of knowledge possessed by a people and the actions connected with this knowledge, the principles of morality cannot be influenced by civilization, however the concrete expression of these principles may vary in their adaptation to particular forms of civilization. The apparent difference between the morality of savages and ourselves is therefore not really in the morality but in the civilization.
About the Author
Alfred L. Kroeber Alfred L. Kroeber was a major 20th-century U.S. anthropologist who gained particular fame for studying the language and customs of the Yahi people of California with the group's last surviving member, Ishi. An important anthropological researcher, theorist, and author, Kroeber influenced a generation of anthropologists from his post at the University of California and through his many published works. Among his most important contributions to the field are The Religion of the Indians of California (1907), Anthropology (1923), Handbook of the Indians of California (1925), Configurations of Culture Growth (1944), The Nature of Culture (1952), and Style and Civilizations (1957).
MLA Citation
"International Activity: Is Our Understanding of the World Dependent on Our Culture?" World Geography: Understanding a Changing World, ABC-CLIO, 2021, worldgeography.abc- clio.com/Support/InvestigateActivity/1346356. Accessed 4 Oct. 2021.
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This content may be used for non-commercial, educational purposes only. https://worldgeography.abc-clio.com/Support/InvestigateActivity/1346356 Cultural Relativism
Activity
Inquiry Question Is our understanding of the world dependent on our culture?
The image at right shows Franz Boas, proponent of the idea of cultural relativism, demonstrating a ritual of the Hamatsa group of Canada's Kwakiutl people. Since European explorers first began to travel the wider world and came into contact with peoples and places with which they were wholly unfamiliar, scholars have attempted to make sense of the diversity of human society and activity. European traditions of catholicity—that some ideas, particularly religious ones, were universally applicable— led in part to colonial attempts to stamp out native cultures and assimilate all the people of the world into European belief systems. Many believed that non-European cultures were "primitive" or "backward" in their development, with Western civilization held up as the highest form of society and culture and the arbiter of what was true and right. As science came to explain more of the physical world, scholars sought to use scientific methods to study humans and their societies, often in an effort to develop rules for cultural evolution and to determine the "progress" of various groups.
Beginning in the late 1800s, however, a generation of anthropologists began to take a different view. This new generation, led by the groundbreaking ethnologist and polymath Boas, eschewed the ends of science and took a view previously confined to philosophy—that the subjective experiences of humans were dependent at least in part, if not entirely, upon their cultural environment. In an 1887 article on museums, Boas dropped a bombshell that would forever alter antropological study when he wrote about "the dissemination of the fact that civilization is not something absolute, but that it is relative, and that our ideas and conceptions are true only so far as our civilization goes." The field of cultural anthropology, the study of diverse cultures and worldviews on their own terms, developed from this seed, and today students the world over face the same question that Boas once asked himself: Is our understanding of the world around us dependent on our culture?
Background Information
Social Sciences The roots of the modern discipline of anthropology lie in the latter half of the 19th century, a time when the methods and aims of science were being applied to a diversity of subjects in an effort to establish the degree of certitude afforded to natural sciences like physics, biology, and chemistry. Essentially, it was thought that if scientific advances in physics could lead to engineering feats like suspension bridges and skyscrapers, then similar advances in the understanding of the human world should lead to more appropriate policies concerning society, government, and human endeavors. This followed the mid-19th century development of positivism—a term popularized by French philosopher and pioneering sociologist Auguste Comte—and "social sciences" began to emerge and grow in popularity. Earlier descriptions of non-Western peoples by travelers, missionaries, explorers, and scholars tended to be deductive—that is, conclusions were drawn logically by comparing particular evidence with one's existing assumptions, making judgments about specific things depending on larger preexisting judgments about their nature and place. In the positivist tradition of the social sciences, however, the first formal anthropologists hoped to use inductive reasoning—whereby conclusions are based upon observations of specific instances that may produce patterns that can be used to formulate more general rules—to uncover universal laws about societies and the human condition. Among the social sciences, the discipline of anthropology began to emerge as a positivist "study of man," particularly in the United Kingdom and United States.
Anthropologists of the late 19th and early 20th centuries undertook efforts to study, measure, document, and compare the various people of the world. Many early efforts were concerned primarily with laying the foundations for inductive study by performing fieldwork among various peoples around the world who were not well understood by Western scholars, gathering all sorts of data, from physical measurements of body parts to descriptions of their dress, customs, and living arrangements. Sociologists of the time, including important thinkers like émile Durkheim and Herbert Spencer, often used such data to explain and classify human societies based upon ideas from biology, describing them as repeating the sorts of functions, composition, and evolution observed in the natural world. At the same time, other scholars used the data to develop theories of societal evolution based upon the influential ideas of Charles Darwin, in some cases promoting a scientific racism that held physical and cultural differences to indicate the natural inferiority of certain groups. These ideas influenced, and were at times furthered by, many anthropologists of the era. Anthropology was thus intimately tied to both sociology and the natural sciences, and adopted elements of both; in fact, there was so much overlap that it is often difficult to differentiate them.
Building upon a general notion of societal evolution that had been popular since the 18th century and was bolstered by analogy to Darwinian evolution, it became increasingly fashionable to hold that human societies progress through a series of stages, from simple to complex, according to a variety of factors. Among the implications of this theory was that smaller, more exotic societies were evolutionarily backward or primitive and that Western society was superior in its more highly evolved complexities; in a sense, it was held that the relationship between the society and lifestyle of a British industrialist and that of a Papuan tribesman was akin to that between a human and a chimpanzee (or perhaps Cro Magnon man and Australopithecus). Armed with such conceptions, colonialism became a noble undertaking—the "White Man's Burden," as famously put by British author Rudyard Kipling in his 1899 poem by the same name— whereby Europeans "bettered" the "primitive" peoples of the world by introducing them to European ways and ideas. Such undertakings were further fueled by scientific racism sometimes based upon anthropologists' data.
Yet anthropological fieldwork also led to the evolution of the idea of culture. Once defined as the trappings of high civilization and set apart as a distinguishing factor between highly evolved societies and primitive ones, culture came to be defined more broadly by anthropologists as the collection of all customs and beliefs held by a particular group. U.S. anthropologist Lewis Henry Morgan and his British colleague Edward Burnett Tylor utilized this broader idea of culture to put forward theories of societal and cultural evolution, incorporating technology, religion, law, art, medical practices, and many other customs into their analyses. What emerged was a concept of culture as an all-encompassing summary of the many facets of life within a group. Various cultures could be compared, and many early anthropologists did just that, fashioning a comparative method that led rather directly to ideas of cultural evolution and progress. It was thought that anthropologists and sociologists could discover laws about societies and their evolution by comparing cultural data from groups across the world and finding patterns that would indicate the trajectory of that evolution.
The German-American anthropologist Franz Boas was among the first to openly question the comparative method. Boas believed that cultures were not necessarily comparable; in a sense, he found that comparing two unrelated cultures was like comparing two unrelated fruits—one can learn little about pineapples by examining apples, and it would be wrong to assume that an apple is just a primitive pineapple because the pineapple is larger and more apparently complex. Instead of the comparative method, Boas preferred a method, similar to that popular among historians at the time, that prioritized unbiased description placed within its proper context and discarded the need for laws governing general societal or cultural evolution. Eventually, Boas came to espouse an idea now known as cultural relativism, the cornerstone of which was the concept that a culture must be understood on its own terms, not as part of a larger theory or in relation to another culture. In order to perform ethnographic fieldwork properly, it was thus necessary for anthropologists to immerse themselves as much as possible in the culture they were studying. In this tradition, fieldwork was to be less like scientific labwork and more like method acting.
Boas proved to be enormously influential in the United States, and an entire generation of American anthropologists studied under him or one of his early protégés; he directly taught such important figures as Alfred Kroeber, Robert Lowie, Edward Sapir, Ruth Benedict, and Margaret Mead. Since this was also the formative period for many U.S. universities, these disciples founded and populated anthropology programs throughout the country and institutionalized their methods. Other anthropologists—notably the Englishman A.R. Radcliffe-Brown— attempted to salvage the scientific and comparative aspects of anthropology by focusing on analyses and taxonomies of cultural systems, but by the 1960s the original positivist ideal was maligned by most anthropologists. Today, the methods of cultural anthropology (or social anthropology in the United Kingdom) are still primarily based upon ideas of cultural relativism, and it is commonly taught that unbiased, context-sensitive work should be at the heart of anthropological endeavors. Each society presents its own subject matter, to be examined and conveyed to members of other societies and cultural groups, and the popularization of both the methods and results of anthropological work have allowed for a wider understanding of the true diversity of humankind.
Evan Brown
MLA Citation: Brown, Evan. "Social Sciences." World Geography: Understanding a Changing World, ABC-CLIO, 2021, worldgeography.abc-clio.com/Search/Display/1346358. Accessed 4 Oct. 2021. Source
Commentary
Excerpt from "The Mind of Primitive Man" (1901)
The activities of the mind manifest themselves in thoughts and actions, and exhibit an infinite variety of form among the peoples of the world. In order to understand these clearly, the student must endeavor to divest himself entirely of opinions and emotions based upon the peculiar social environment into which he is born. He must adapt his own mind, so far as feasible, to that of the people whom he is studying. The more successful he is in freeing himself from the bias based on the group of ideas that constitute the civilization in which he lives, the more successful he will be in interpreting the beliefs and actions of man. He must follow lines of thought that are new to him. He must participate in new emotions, and understand how, under unwonted conditions, both lead to actions. Beliefs, customs, and the response of the individual to the events of daily life, give us ample opportunity to observe the manifestations of the mind of man under varying conditions. . . .
In our own community a mass of observations and of thoughts is transmitted to the child. These thoughts are the result of careful observation and speculation of our present and of past generations; but they are transmitted to most individuals as traditional matter, much the same as folklore. The child associates new perceptions with this whole mass of traditional material, and interprets his observations by its means. I believe it is a mistake to assume that the interpretation made by each civilized individual is a complete logical process. We associate a phenomenon with a number of known facts, the interpretations of which are assumed as known, and we are satisfied with the reduction of a new fact to these previously known facts. For instance, if the average individual hears of the explosion of a previously unknown chemical, he is satisfied to reason that certain materials are known to have the property of exploding under proper conditions, and that consequently the unknown substance has the same quality. . . .
The instruction given to the child of primitive man is not based on centuries of experimentation, but consists of the crude experience of generations. When a new experience enters the mind of primitive man, the same process which we observe among civilized man brings about an entirely different series of associations, and therefore results in a different type of explanation. A sudden explosion will associate itself in his mind, perhaps, with tales which he has heard in regard to the mythical history of the world, and consequently will be accompanied by superstitious fear. When we recognize that, neither among civilized man nor among primitive man, the average individual carries to completion the attempt at causal explanation of phenomena, but carries it only so far as to amalgamate it with other previously known facts, we recognize that the result of the whole process depends entirely upon the character of the traditional material: herein lies the immense importance of folklore in determining the mode of thought. Herein lies particularly the enormous influence of current philosophic opinion upon the masses of the people, and herein lies the influence of the dominant scientific theory upon the character of scientific work.
It would be in vain to try to understand the development of modern science without an intelligent understanding of modern philosophy; it would be in vain to try to understand the history of medieval science without an intelligent knowledge of medieval theology; and so it is in vain to try to understand primitive science without an intelligent knowledge of primitive mythology. Mythology, theology and philosophy are different terms for the same influences which shape the current of human thought, and which determine the character of the attempts of man to explain the phenomena of nature. To primitive man—who has been taught to consider the heavenly orbs as animate beings, who sees in every animal a being more powerful than man, to whom the mountains, trees and stones are endowed with life—explanations of phenomena will suggest themselves entirely different from those to which we are accustomed, since we base our conclusions upon the existence of matter and force as bringing about the observed results. If we do not consider it possible to explain the whole range of phenomena as the result of matter and force alone, all our explanations of natural phenomena must take a different aspect.
In scientific inquiries we should always be clear in our own minds of the fact that we do not carry the analysis of any given phenomenon to completion; but that we always embody a number of hypotheses and theories in our explanations. In fact, if we were to do so, progress would hardly become possible, because every phenomenon would require an endless amount of time for thorough treatment. We are only too apt, however, to forget entirely the general, and, for most of us, purely traditional, theoretical basis which is the foundation of our reasoning, and to assume that the result of our reasoning is absolute truth. . . .
The influence of traditional material upon the life of man is not restricted to his thoughts, but manifests itself no less in his activities. . . . When we consider, for instance, the whole range of our daily life, we notice how strictly we are dependent upon tradition that can not be accounted for by any logical reasoning. We eat our three meals every day, and feel unhappy if we have to forego one of them. There is no physiological reason which demands three meals a day, and we find that many people are satisfied with two meals, while others enjoy four or even more. The range of animals and plants which we utilize for food is limited, and we have a decided aversion against eating dogs, or horses, or cats. There is certainly no objective reason for such aversion, since a great many people consider dogs and horses as dainties. . . . The whole range of actions that are considered as proper and improper can not be explained by any logical reason, but are almost all entirely due to custom; that is to say, they are purely traditional. This is even true of customs which excite strong emotions, as, for instance, those produced by infractions of modesty. . . .
No action can find the approval of a people which is fundamentally opposed to its customs and traditions. Among ourselves it is considered proper and a matter of course to treat the old with respect, for children to look after the welfare of their aged parents; and not to do so would be considered base ingratitude. Among the Eskimo we find an entirely different standard. It is required of children to kill their parents when they have become so old as to be helpless and no longer of any use to the family or to the community. It would be considered a breach of filial duty not to kill the aged parent. Revolting though this custom may seem to us, it is founded on an ethical law of the Eskimo, which rests on the whole mass of traditional lore and custom. . . .
It is somewhat difficult for us to recognize that the value which we attribute to our own civilization is due to the fact that we participate in this civilization, and that it has been controlling all our actions since the time Page 6 of 15 of our birth; but it is certainly conceivable that there may be other civilizations, based perhaps on different traditions and on a different equilibrium of emotion and reason which are of no less value than ours, although it may be impossible for us to appreciate their values without having grown up under their influence.
About the Author
Franz Boas Franz Boas was a leading anthropologist in the United States during the late 19th and early 20th centuries. Sometimes referred to as the "father of American anthropology," Boas was among the most influential theorists, field researchers, and instructors of his era. His most important works include "The Limitations of the Comparative Method of Anthropology" (1896), The Mind of Primitive Man (in book form, as opposed to the earlier article by the same name; 1911), "Changes in the Bodily Form of the Descendants of Immigrants" (1912), "Mythology and Folktales of the North American Indians" (1914), Primitive Art (1927), and Race, Language, and Culture (1940).
Source
Commentary
Excerpt from Folkways (1906)
The folkways are the "right" ways to satisfy all interests, because they are traditional, and exist in fact. They extend over the whole of life. There is a right way to catch game, to win a wife, to make one's self appear, to cure disease, to honor ghosts, to treat comrades or strangers, to behave when a child is born, on the warpath, in council, and so on in all cases which can arise. . . . The "right" way is the way which the ancestors used and which has been handed down. The tradition is its own warrant. It is not held subject to verification by experience. The notion of right is in the folkways. It is not outside of them, of independent origin, and brought to them to test them. In the folkways, whatever is, is right. . . . "Rights" are the rules of mutual give and take in the competition of life which are imposed on comrades in the in-group, in order that the peace may prevail there which is essential to the group strength. Therefore rights can never be "natural" or "God-given," or absolute in any sense. The morality of a group at a time is the sum of the taboos and prescriptions in the folkways by which right conduct is defined. Therefore morals can never be intuitive. They are historical, institutional, and empirical.
World philosophy, life policy, right, rights, and morality are all products of the folkways. . . . The faith in the world philosophy drew lines outside of which the folkways must not go. Crude and vague notions of societal welfare were formed from the notion of pleasing the ghosts, and from such notions of expediency as the opinion that, if there were not children enough, there would not be warriors enough, or that, if there were too many children, the food supply would not be adequate. The notion of welfare was an inference and resultant from these mystic and utilitarian generalizations.
When the elements of truth and right are developed into doctrines of welfare, the folkways are raised to another plane. They then become capable of producing inferences, developing into new forms, and extending their constructive influence over men and society. Then we call them the mores. The mores are the folkways, including the philosophical and ethical generalizations as to societal welfare which are suggested by them, and inherent in them, as they grow. . . .
The mores come down to us from the past. Each individual is born into them as he is born into the atmosphere, and he does not reflect on them, or criticise them any more than a baby analyzes the atmosphere before he begins to breathe it. Each one is subjected to the influence of the mores, and formed by them, before he is capable of reasoning about them. . . . Nothing can ever change them but the unconscious and imperceptible movement of the mores. Religion was originally a matter of the mores. It became a societal institution and a function of the state. It has now to a great extent been put back into the mores. Since laws with penalties to enforce religious creeds or practices have gone out of use any one may think and act as he pleases about religion. . . . Democracy is in our American mores. It is a product of our physical and economic conditions. It is impossible to discuss or criticise it. It is glorified for popularity, and is a subject of dithyrambic rhetoric. No one treats it with complete candor and sincerity. No one dares to analyze it as he would aristocracy or autocracy. He would get no hearing and would only incur abuse. . . . The mores contain the norm by which, if we should discuss the mores, we should have to judge the mores. We learn the mores as unconsciously as we learn to walk and eat and breathe. The masses never learn how we walk, and eat, and breathe, and they never know any reason why the mores are what they are. The justification of them is that when we wake to consciousness of life we find them facts which already hold us in the bonds of tradition, custom, and habit. The mores contain embodied in them notions, doctrines, and maxims, but they are facts. They are in the present tense. They have nothing to do with what ought to be, will be, may be, or once was, if it is not now. . . .
A society does not record its mores in its annals, because they are to it unnoticed and unconscious. When we try to learn the mores of any age or people we have to seek our information in incidental references, allusions, observations of travelers, etc. Generally works of fiction, drama, etc., give us more information about the mores than historical records. . . . The mores are not recorded for the same reason that meals, going to bed, sunrise, etc., are not recorded, unless the regular course of things is broken.
We see that we must conceive of the mores as a vast system of usages, covering the whole of life, and serving all its interests; also containing in themselves their own justification by tradition and use and wont, and approved by mystic sanctions until, by rational reflection, they develop their own philosophical and ethical generalizations, which are elevated into "principles" of truth and right. They coerce and restrict the newborn generation. They do not stimulate to thought, but the contrary. The thinking is already done and is embodied in the mores. They never contain any provision for their own amendment. They are not questions, but answers, to the problem of life. They present themselves as final and unchangeable, because they present answers which are offered as "the truth." . . .
All the groups whose mores we consider far inferior to our own are quite as well satisfied with theirs as we are with ours. The goodness or badness of mores consists entirely in their adjustment to the life conditions and the interests of the time and place. Therefore it is a sign of ease and welfare when no thought is given to the mores, but all cooperate in them instinctively. . . .
At every turn we find new evidence that the mores can make anything right. What they do is that they cover a usage in dress, language, behavior, manners, etc., with the mantle of current custom, and give it regulation and limits within which it becomes unquestionable. The limit is generally a limit of toleration. . . . In regard to all social customs, the mores sanction them by defining them and giving them form. Such regulated customs are etiquette. The regulation by the mores always gives order and form, and thus surrounds life with limits within which we may and beyond which we may not pursue our interests (e.g., property and marriage). . . . The mores set the limits or define the disapproval. . . .
It cannot be doubted that, at any time, all ethical judgments are made through the atmosphere of the mores of the time. It is they which tell us what is right. It is only by high mental discipline that we can be trained to rise above that atmosphere and form rational judgments on current cases. This mental independence and ethical power are the highest products of education. They are also perilous. Our worst cranks are those who get the independence and power, but cannot stand alone and form correct judgments outside of the mores of the time and place. It must be remembered that the mores sometimes becloud the judgment, but they more often guide it.
About the Author
WIlliam Graham Sumner William Graham Sumner was an influential historian, economist, social scientist, critic, and teacher. Though often known primarily for his social Darwinist and free-market economic theories, he also wrote on a variety of other subjects, including cultural development and its effect on human societies. Among his many works are A History of American Currency (1874), What Social Classes Owe Each Other (1883), Protectionism (1885), The Financier and Finances of the American Revolution (1891), A History of Banking in All the Leading Nations (1896), Folkways (1906), and The Science of Society (1927).
Source
Commentary
Excerpt from "The Morals of Uncivilized People" (1910)
[H]owever great or small their power of reasoning, it is conceded that the mental endowment of all living beings lower than man is essentially if not altogether instinctive. . . . As there is nothing homologous to the rudest culture or civilization among even the highest animals, custom cannot materially influence them, and their equivalent of our morality must be entirely instinctive.
But when humanity is considered, the alleged distinction between the uncivilized and civilized races seems untrue. That any people, or any person even, has ever really regulated conduct by ideas or reason, is a delusion. The delusion is a common one because it is pleasing to flatter ourselves that our acts spring from purely rational motives. In fact, and of course, all real action precedes and determines intellectual reasoning, which, being analytical, cannot but be ex post facto [after the fact] and secondary. If this is true of ourselves, it obviously applies to people of less civilization, and must be a basic trait of all mankind, inherent in the constitution of human nature. . . .
There can be no doubt that the essential moral ideas of man spring from instinct. The repugnance toward murder, appropriation of the possessions of others, treachery, and want of hospitality, is based as little on considerations of social advantage or logical deductions as the sentiments are common to all races and times. The actions that are naturally the most abhorrent to everyone, such as cannibalism, incest, and lack of parental or filial devotion, are so thoroughly instinctive that these crimes have hardly had to be dealt with by most people, and their rarity and want of infectiousness are recognized in the frequent failure of creeds and codes to provide against them. Custom has further strengthened and shaped the inborn resentment we cherish against such actions, and custom has been variously modified by historical surroundings; but the source of the repugnance is purely unreasoning instinct. . . .
It is clear how these instincts could have arisen. In the animal world, they are, in the main, a necessity. The species that consumes itself, habitually inbreeds, or neglects its offspring, perishes. The unreasoning conditions of nature therefore have impressed strong aversions to such practices, or have suppressed the instincts toward them, in virtually all higher animals. From our animal ancestors we no doubt derive the same feelings; but as we are a "political animal," whose life is influenced by civilizational surroundings, and who is therefore apparently exempt from the operation of the laws of biological evolution, these inherited instincts may be entirely superfluous and useless to us. That in spite of this superfluity all men cling to them most tenaciously, reveals them to be only part of our blind natal make-up, as much so as the impulse that leads the dog to sacrifice himself for his master, the ant for her hill, the tigress for her young, and the salmon for his unborn progeny.
However, since man is constituted as a cultural being, his instincts must take shape according to his civilization. Hence there exist, in distant times and places, wide divergences or even contradictions of moral teaching, though the moral impulses are always the same.
To kill a stranger is often no crime, where society is organized on a restricted local basis, because the stranger is an enemy. Yet people who proclaim and practice this doctrine are no more given to murder among themselves than we are who justify only the shooting of an admitted national foe. The horizon is different in the two cases, the mental and social environments diverse, the scale of judgment various; but the principles according to which men determine whether a killing is a dastardly murder or an act of patriotic merit, are identical.
In the same way, the definitions of different nations as to what constitutes incest are as variable as their condemnation of the crime is universal. Some modern civilized people are shocked at marriage between uncle and niece, more tolerate cousin-marriage, but nearly all American Indians revolt at both. Until the most recent years Englishmen broke the law of their land if a woman succeeded her dead sister as wife; among innumerable nations the dead husband's brother feels it his duty to wed his sister-in-law. There are Australian tribes today among whom the woman that it is a man's duty to marry is his father's sister's daughter, while wedlock with the equivalent cousin through his mother's sister is an enormity and a crime.
In short, among all men there is a recognition of certain groups within which murder, theft, and marriage are wrong. The extent and composition of the groups vary tremendously from people to people, but this variation is an accident of political or intellectual development, and in itself no index or effect of morality. . . .
We have seen the ethical ideals of different times and places to be highly colored by custom and by historical, economic, and intellectual surroundings, perhaps by natural environment even, although everywhere resting on the same basis and actuated by the same principles. There is also much variety in the terminology of the explanations given of morality. Of course religion has been particularly active here. In ancient Palestine Jehovah, the mountain, and the stone tablets were brought forward as a convincing argument, just as in native California Chungichnish with his associates the raven and the rattlesnake furnished the reason why we should be good rather than bad. Even when the ritualistic apparatus is passed by, or does not exist, there is a divergence of explanation, for a "child of nature" has neither the ideas nor the language of a dialectic thinker. And yet, after all, [Immanuel Kant,] the greatest philosopher since the Greeks, fell back, in the search for a basis of ethics, upon the "categorical imperative"; and it is doubtful whether in this conception, however satisfying it may be to our genuine and more advanced intellectual needs, he essentially transcended the American Indian's answer, to the question why a certain action is objectionable: "because it is bad." . . .
Nothing is more erroneous than the wide-spread idea and oft-repeated statement that the savage is only a child. In knowledge, to a certain extent in intellect even, he may not rank above the children of civilization; but in character, in emotions, and in morals, he is essentially and absolutely a man. . . . Men are men and essentially alike wherever born and however reared, and breadth of view uninfluenced by doctrinal purpose has always subscribed to this opinion. There is every reason to believe, accordingly, that uncivilized and civilized men practice what they respectively regard as virtue, to the same degree.
In short, the moral element in humanity is basically instinctive. If we believe in evolution from animals, we must find the source of human morality, as of human senses and emotions, in animal life. Being an inherent element of the human mind, it is psychologically unexplainable and finds its justification only in itself. As an integral constituent of man, it is common to all races in identical or virtually identical form. Variations in moral ideas are reflections of changes in civilization. As civilization, however, is something outside of race and independent of the human body; and as it affects only the body of knowledge possessed by a people and the actions connected with this knowledge, the principles of morality cannot be influenced by civilization, however the concrete expression of these principles may vary in their adaptation to particular forms of civilization. The apparent difference between the morality of savages and ourselves is therefore not really in the morality but in the civilization.
About the Author
Alfred L. Kroeber Alfred L. Kroeber was a major 20th-century U.S. anthropologist who gained particular fame for studying the language and customs of the Yahi people of California with the group's last surviving member, Ishi. An important anthropological researcher, theorist, and author, Kroeber influenced a generation of anthropologists from his post at the University of California and through his many published works. Among his most important contributions to the field are The Religion of the Indians of California (1907), Anthropology (1923), Handbook of the Indians of California (1925), Configurations of Culture Growth (1944), The Nature of Culture (1952), and Style and Civilizations (1957).
MLA Citation
"International Activity: Is Our Understanding of the World Dependent on Our Culture?" World Geography: Understanding a Changing World, ABC-CLIO, 2021, worldgeography.abc- clio.com/Support/InvestigateActivity/1346356. Accessed 4 Oct. 2021.
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This content may be used for non-commercial, educational purposes only. https://worldgeography.abc-clio.com/Support/InvestigateActivity/1346356 Cultural Relativism
Activity
Inquiry Question Is our understanding of the world dependent on our culture?
The image at right shows Franz Boas, proponent of the idea of cultural relativism, demonstrating a ritual of the Hamatsa group of Canada's Kwakiutl people. Since European explorers first began to travel the wider world and came into contact with peoples and places with which they were wholly unfamiliar, scholars have attempted to make sense of the diversity of human society and activity. European traditions of catholicity—that some ideas, particularly religious ones, were universally applicable— led in part to colonial attempts to stamp out native cultures and assimilate all the people of the world into European belief systems. Many believed that non-European cultures were "primitive" or "backward" in their development, with Western civilization held up as the highest form of society and culture and the arbiter of what was true and right. As science came to explain more of the physical world, scholars sought to use scientific methods to study humans and their societies, often in an effort to develop rules for cultural evolution and to determine the "progress" of various groups.
Beginning in the late 1800s, however, a generation of anthropologists began to take a different view. This new generation, led by the groundbreaking ethnologist and polymath Boas, eschewed the ends of science and took a view previously confined to philosophy—that the subjective experiences of humans were dependent at least in part, if not entirely, upon their cultural environment. In an 1887 article on museums, Boas dropped a bombshell that would forever alter antropological study when he wrote about "the dissemination of the fact that civilization is not something absolute, but that it is relative, and that our ideas and conceptions are true only so far as our civilization goes." The field of cultural anthropology, the study of diverse cultures and worldviews on their own terms, developed from this seed, and today students the world over face the same question that Boas once asked himself: Is our understanding of the world around us dependent on our culture?
Background Information
Social Sciences The roots of the modern discipline of anthropology lie in the latter half of the 19th century, a time when the methods and aims of science were being applied to a diversity of subjects in an effort to establish the degree of certitude afforded to natural sciences like physics, biology, and chemistry. Essentially, it was thought that if scientific advances in physics could lead to engineering feats like suspension bridges and skyscrapers, then similar advances in the understanding of the human world should lead to more appropriate policies concerning society, government, and human endeavors. This followed the mid-19th century development of positivism—a term popularized by French philosopher and pioneering sociologist Auguste Comte—and "social sciences" began to emerge and grow in popularity. Earlier descriptions of non-Western peoples by travelers, missionaries, explorers, and scholars tended to be deductive—that is, conclusions were drawn logically by comparing particular evidence with one's existing assumptions, making judgments about specific things depending on larger preexisting judgments about their nature and place. In the positivist tradition of the social sciences, however, the first formal anthropologists hoped to use inductive reasoning—whereby conclusions are based upon observations of specific instances that may produce patterns that can be used to formulate more general rules—to uncover universal laws about societies and the human condition. Among the social sciences, the discipline of anthropology began to emerge as a positivist "study of man," particularly in the United Kingdom and United States.
Anthropologists of the late 19th and early 20th centuries undertook efforts to study, measure, document, and compare the various people of the world. Many early efforts were concerned primarily with laying the foundations for inductive study by performing fieldwork among various peoples around the world who were not well understood by Western scholars, gathering all sorts of data, from physical measurements of body parts to descriptions of their dress, customs, and living arrangements. Sociologists of the time, including important thinkers like émile Durkheim and Herbert Spencer, often used such data to explain and classify human societies based upon ideas from biology, describing them as repeating the sorts of functions, composition, and evolution observed in the natural world. At the same time, other scholars used the data to develop theories of societal evolution based upon the influential ideas of Charles Darwin, in some cases promoting a scientific racism that held physical and cultural differences to indicate the natural inferiority of certain groups. These ideas influenced, and were at times furthered by, many anthropologists of the era. Anthropology was thus intimately tied to both sociology and the natural sciences, and adopted elements of both; in fact, there was so much overlap that it is often difficult to differentiate them.
Building upon a general notion of societal evolution that had been popular since the 18th century and was bolstered by analogy to Darwinian evolution, it became increasingly fashionable to hold that human societies progress through a series of stages, from simple to complex, according to a variety of factors. Among the implications of this theory was that smaller, more exotic societies were evolutionarily backward or primitive and that Western society was superior in its more highly evolved complexities; in a sense, it was held that the relationship between the society and lifestyle of a British industrialist and that of a Papuan tribesman was akin to that between a human and a chimpanzee (or perhaps Cro Magnon man and Australopithecus). Armed with such conceptions, colonialism became a noble undertaking—the "White Man's Burden," as famously put by British author Rudyard Kipling in his 1899 poem by the same name— whereby Europeans "bettered" the "primitive" peoples of the world by introducing them to European ways and ideas. Such undertakings were further fueled by scientific racism sometimes based upon anthropologists' data.
Yet anthropological fieldwork also led to the evolution of the idea of culture. Once defined as the trappings of high civilization and set apart as a distinguishing factor between highly evolved societies and primitive ones, culture came to be defined more broadly by anthropologists as the collection of all customs and beliefs held by a particular group. U.S. anthropologist Lewis Henry Morgan and his British colleague Edward Burnett Tylor utilized this broader idea of culture to put forward theories of societal and cultural evolution, incorporating technology, religion, law, art, medical practices, and many other customs into their analyses. What emerged was a concept of culture as an all-encompassing summary of the many facets of life within a group. Various cultures could be compared, and many early anthropologists did just that, fashioning a comparative method that led rather directly to ideas of cultural evolution and progress. It was thought that anthropologists and sociologists could discover laws about societies and their evolution by comparing cultural data from groups across the world and finding patterns that would indicate the trajectory of that evolution.
The German-American anthropologist Franz Boas was among the first to openly question the comparative method. Boas believed that cultures were not necessarily comparable; in a sense, he found that comparing two unrelated cultures was like comparing two unrelated fruits—one can learn little about pineapples by examining apples, and it would be wrong to assume that an apple is just a primitive pineapple because the pineapple is larger and more apparently complex. Instead of the comparative method, Boas preferred a method, similar to that popular among historians at the time, that prioritized unbiased description placed within its proper context and discarded the need for laws governing general societal or cultural evolution. Eventually, Boas came to espouse an idea now known as cultural relativism, the cornerstone of which was the concept that a culture must be understood on its own terms, not as part of a larger theory or in relation to another culture. In order to perform ethnographic fieldwork properly, it was thus necessary for anthropologists to immerse themselves as much as possible in the culture they were studying. In this tradition, fieldwork was to be less like scientific labwork and more like method acting.
Boas proved to be enormously influential in the United States, and an entire generation of American anthropologists studied under him or one of his early protégés; he directly taught such important figures as Alfred Kroeber, Robert Lowie, Edward Sapir, Ruth Benedict, and Margaret Mead. Since this was also the formative period for many U.S. universities, these disciples founded and populated anthropology programs throughout the country and institutionalized their methods. Other anthropologists—notably the Englishman A.R. Radcliffe-Brown— attempted to salvage the scientific and comparative aspects of anthropology by focusing on analyses and taxonomies of cultural systems, but by the 1960s the original positivist ideal was maligned by most anthropologists. Today, the methods of cultural anthropology (or social anthropology in the United Kingdom) are still primarily based upon ideas of cultural relativism, and it is commonly taught that unbiased, context-sensitive work should be at the heart of anthropological endeavors. Each society presents its own subject matter, to be examined and conveyed to members of other societies and cultural groups, and the popularization of both the methods and results of anthropological work have allowed for a wider understanding of the true diversity of humankind.
Evan Brown
MLA Citation: Brown, Evan. "Social Sciences." World Geography: Understanding a Changing World, ABC-CLIO, 2021, worldgeography.abc-clio.com/Search/Display/1346358. Accessed 4 Oct. 2021. Source
Commentary
Excerpt from "The Mind of Primitive Man" (1901)
The activities of the mind manifest themselves in thoughts and actions, and exhibit an infinite variety of form among the peoples of the world. In order to understand these clearly, the student must endeavor to divest himself entirely of opinions and emotions based upon the peculiar social environment into which he is born. He must adapt his own mind, so far as feasible, to that of the people whom he is studying. The more successful he is in freeing himself from the bias based on the group of ideas that constitute the civilization in which he lives, the more successful he will be in interpreting the beliefs and actions of man. He must follow lines of thought that are new to him. He must participate in new emotions, and understand how, under unwonted conditions, both lead to actions. Beliefs, customs, and the response of the individual to the events of daily life, give us ample opportunity to observe the manifestations of the mind of man under varying conditions. . . .
In our own community a mass of observations and of thoughts is transmitted to the child. These thoughts are the result of careful observation and speculation of our present and of past generations; but they are transmitted to most individuals as traditional matter, much the same as folklore. The child associates new perceptions with this whole mass of traditional material, and interprets his observations by its means. I believe it is a mistake to assume that the interpretation made by each civilized individual is a complete logical process. We associate a phenomenon with a number of known facts, the interpretations of which are assumed as known, and we are satisfied with the reduction of a new fact to these previously known facts. For instance, if the average individual hears of the explosion of a previously unknown chemical, he is satisfied to reason that certain materials are known to have the property of exploding under proper conditions, and that consequently the unknown substance has the same quality. . . .
The instruction given to the child of primitive man is not based on centuries of experimentation, but consists of the crude experience of generations. When a new experience enters the mind of primitive man, the same process which we observe among civilized man brings about an entirely different series of associations, and therefore results in a different type of explanation. A sudden explosion will associate itself in his mind, perhaps, with tales which he has heard in regard to the mythical history of the world, and consequently will be accompanied by superstitious fear. When we recognize that, neither among civilized man nor among primitive man, the average individual carries to completion the attempt at causal explanation of phenomena, but carries it only so far as to amalgamate it with other previously known facts, we recognize that the result of the whole process depends entirely upon the character of the traditional material: herein lies the immense importance of folklore in determining the mode of thought. Herein lies particularly the enormous influence of current philosophic opinion upon the masses of the people, and herein lies the influence of the dominant scientific theory upon the character of scientific work.
It would be in vain to try to understand the development of modern science without an intelligent understanding of modern philosophy; it would be in vain to try to understand the history of medieval science without an intelligent knowledge of medieval theology; and so it is in vain to try to understand primitive science without an intelligent knowledge of primitive mythology. Mythology, theology and philosophy are different terms for the same influences which shape the current of human thought, and which determine the character of the attempts of man to explain the phenomena of nature. To primitive man—who has been taught to consider the heavenly orbs as animate beings, who sees in every animal a being more powerful than man, to whom the mountains, trees and stones are endowed with life—explanations of phenomena will suggest themselves entirely different from those to which we are accustomed, since we base our conclusions upon the existence of matter and force as bringing about the observed results. If we do not consider it possible to explain the whole range of phenomena as the result of matter and force alone, all our explanations of natural phenomena must take a different aspect.
In scientific inquiries we should always be clear in our own minds of the fact that we do not carry the analysis of any given phenomenon to completion; but that we always embody a number of hypotheses and theories in our explanations. In fact, if we were to do so, progress would hardly become possible, because every phenomenon would require an endless amount of time for thorough treatment. We are only too apt, however, to forget entirely the general, and, for most of us, purely traditional, theoretical basis which is the foundation of our reasoning, and to assume that the result of our reasoning is absolute truth. . . .
The influence of traditional material upon the life of man is not restricted to his thoughts, but manifests itself no less in his activities. . . . When we consider, for instance, the whole range of our daily life, we notice how strictly we are dependent upon tradition that can not be accounted for by any logical reasoning. We eat our three meals every day, and feel unhappy if we have to forego one of them. There is no physiological reason which demands three meals a day, and we find that many people are satisfied with two meals, while others enjoy four or even more. The range of animals and plants which we utilize for food is limited, and we have a decided aversion against eating dogs, or horses, or cats. There is certainly no objective reason for such aversion, since a great many people consider dogs and horses as dainties. . . . The whole range of actions that are considered as proper and improper can not be explained by any logical reason, but are almost all entirely due to custom; that is to say, they are purely traditional. This is even true of customs which excite strong emotions, as, for instance, those produced by infractions of modesty. . . .
No action can find the approval of a people which is fundamentally opposed to its customs and traditions. Among ourselves it is considered proper and a matter of course to treat the old with respect, for children to look after the welfare of their aged parents; and not to do so would be considered base ingratitude. Among the Eskimo we find an entirely different standard. It is required of children to kill their parents when they have become so old as to be helpless and no longer of any use to the family or to the community. It would be considered a breach of filial duty not to kill the aged parent. Revolting though this custom may seem to us, it is founded on an ethical law of the Eskimo, which rests on the whole mass of traditional lore and custom. . . .
It is somewhat difficult for us to recognize that the value which we attribute to our own civilization is due to the fact that we participate in this civilization, and that it has been controlling all our actions since the time of our birth; but it is certainly conceivable that there may be other civilizations, based perhaps on different traditions and on a different equilibrium of emotion and reason which are of no less value than ours, although it may be impossible for us to appreciate their values without having grown up under their influence.
About the Author
Franz Boas Franz Boas was a leading anthropologist in the United States during the late 19th and early 20th centuries. Sometimes referred to as the "father of American anthropology," Boas was among the most influential theorists, field researchers, and instructors of his era. His most important works include "The Limitations of the Comparative Method of Anthropology" (1896), The Mind of Primitive Man (in book form, as opposed to the earlier article by the same name; 1911), "Changes in the Bodily Form of the Descendants of Immigrants" (1912), "Mythology and Folktales of the North American Indians" (1914), Primitive Art (1927), and Race, Language, and Culture (1940).
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Commentary
Excerpt from Folkways (1906)
The folkways are the "right" ways to satisfy all interests, because they are traditional, and exist in fact. They extend over the whole of life. There is a right way to catch game, to win a wife, to make one's self appear, to cure disease, to honor ghosts, to treat comrades or strangers, to behave when a child is born, on the warpath, in council, and so on in all cases which can arise. . . . The "right" way is the way which the ancestors used and which has been handed down. The tradition is its own warrant. It is not held subject to verification by experience. The notion of right is in the folkways. It is not outside of them, of independent origin, and brought to them to test them. In the folkways, whatever is, is right. . . . "Rights" are the rules of mutual give and take in the competition of life which are imposed on comrades in the in-group, in order that the peace may prevail there which is essential to the group strength. Therefore rights can never be "natural" or "God-given," or absolute in any sense. The morality of a group at a time is the sum of the taboos and prescriptions in the folkways by which right conduct is defined. Therefore morals can never be intuitive. They are historical, institutional, and empirical.
World philosophy, life policy, right, rights, and morality are all products of the folkways. . . . The faith in the world philosophy drew lines outside of which the folkways must not go. Crude and vague notions of societal welfare were formed from the notion of pleasing the ghosts, and from such notions of expediency as the opinion that, if there were not children enough, there would not be warriors enough, or that, if there were too many children, the food supply would not be adequate. The notion of welfare was an inference and resultant from these mystic and utilitarian generalizations.
When the elements of truth and right are developed into doctrines of welfare, the folkways are raisedPage 7to of 15 another plane. They then become capable of producing inferences, developing into new forms, and extending their constructive influence over men and society. Then we call them the mores. The mores are the folkways, including the philosophical and ethical generalizations as to societal welfare which are suggested by them, and inherent in them, as they grow. . . .
The mores come down to us from the past. Each individual is born into them as he is born into the atmosphere, and he does not reflect on them, or criticise them any more than a baby analyzes the atmosphere before he begins to breathe it. Each one is subjected to the influence of the mores, and formed by them, before he is capable of reasoning about them. . . . Nothing can ever change them but the unconscious and imperceptible movement of the mores. Religion was originally a matter of the mores. It became a societal institution and a function of the state. It has now to a great extent been put back into the mores. Since laws with penalties to enforce religious creeds or practices have gone out of use any one may think and act as he pleases about religion. . . . Democracy is in our American mores. It is a product of our physical and economic conditions. It is impossible to discuss or criticise it. It is glorified for popularity, and is a subject of dithyrambic rhetoric. No one treats it with complete candor and sincerity. No one dares to analyze it as he would aristocracy or autocracy. He would get no hearing and would only incur abuse. . . . The mores contain the norm by which, if we should discuss the mores, we should have to judge the mores. We learn the mores as unconsciously as we learn to walk and eat and breathe. The masses never learn how we walk, and eat, and breathe, and they never know any reason why the mores are what they are. The justification of them is that when we wake to consciousness of life we find them facts which already hold us in the bonds of tradition, custom, and habit. The mores contain embodied in them notions, doctrines, and maxims, but they are facts. They are in the present tense. They have nothing to do with what ought to be, will be, may be, or once was, if it is not now. . . .
A society does not record its mores in its annals, because they are to it unnoticed and unconscious. When we try to learn the mores of any age or people we have to seek our information in incidental references, allusions, observations of travelers, etc. Generally works of fiction, drama, etc., give us more information about the mores than historical records. . . . The mores are not recorded for the same reason that meals, going to bed, sunrise, etc., are not recorded, unless the regular course of things is broken.
We see that we must conceive of the mores as a vast system of usages, covering the whole of life, and serving all its interests; also containing in themselves their own justification by tradition and use and wont, and approved by mystic sanctions until, by rational reflection, they develop their own philosophical and ethical generalizations, which are elevated into "principles" of truth and right. They coerce and restrict the newborn generation. They do not stimulate to thought, but the contrary. The thinking is already done and is embodied in the mores. They never contain any provision for their own amendment. They are not questions, but answers, to the problem of life. They present themselves as final and unchangeable, because they present answers which are offered as "the truth." . . .
All the groups whose mores we consider far inferior to our own are quite as well satisfied with theirs as we are with ours. The goodness or badness of mores consists entirely in their adjustment to the life conditions and the interests of the time and place. Therefore it is a sign of ease and welfare when no thought is given to the mores, but all cooperate in them instinctively. . . .
At every turn we find new evidence that the mores can make anything right. What they do is that they cover a usage in dress, language, behavior, manners, etc., with the mantle of current custom, and give it regulation and limits within which it becomes unquestionable. The limit is generally a limit of toleration. . . . In regard to all social customs, the mores sanction them by defining them and giving them form. Such regulated customs are etiquette. The regulation by the mores always gives order and form, and thus surrounds life with limits within which we may and beyond which we may not pursue our interests (e.g., property and marriage). . . . The mores set the limits or define the disapproval. . . .
It cannot be doubted that, at any time, all ethical judgments are made through the atmosphere of the mores of the time. It is they which tell us what is right. It is only by high mental discipline that we can be trained to rise above that atmosphere and form rational judgments on current cases. This mental independence and ethical power are the highest products of education. They are also perilous. Our worst cranks are those who get the independence and power, but cannot stand alone and form correct judgments outside of the mores of the time and place. It must be remembered that the mores sometimes becloud the judgment, but they more often guide it.
About the Author
WIlliam Graham Sumner William Graham Sumner was an influential historian, economist, social scientist, critic, and teacher. Though often known primarily for his social Darwinist and free-market economic theories, he also wrote on a variety of other subjects, including cultural development and its effect on human societies. Among his many works are A History of American Currency (1874), What Social Classes Owe Each Other (1883), Protectionism (1885), The Financier and Finances of the American Revolution (1891), A History of Banking in All the Leading Nations (1896), Folkways (1906), and The Science of Society (1927).
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Commentary
Excerpt from "The Morals of Uncivilized People" (1910)
[H]owever great or small their power of reasoning, it is conceded that the mental endowment of all living beings lower than man is essentially if not altogether instinctive. . . . As there is nothing homologous to the rudest culture or civilization among even the highest animals, custom cannot materially influence them, and their equivalent of our morality must be entirely instinctive.
But when humanity is considered, the alleged distinction between the uncivilized and civilized races seems untrue. That any people, or any person even, has ever really regulated conduct by ideas or reason, is a delusion. The delusion is a common one because it is pleasing to flatter ourselves that our acts spring from purely rational motives. In fact, and of course, all real action precedes and determines intellectual reasoning, which, being analytical, cannot but be ex post facto [after the fact] and secondary. If this is true of ourselves, it obviously applies to people of less civilization, and must be a basic trait of all mankind, inherent in the constitution of human nature. . . .
There can be no doubt that the essential moral ideas of man spring from instinct. The repugnance toward murder, appropriation of the possessions of others, treachery, and want of hospitality, is based as little on considerations of social advantage or logical deductions as the sentiments are common to all races and times. The actions that are naturally the most abhorrent to everyone, such as cannibalism, incest, and lack of parental or filial devotion, are so thoroughly instinctive that these crimes have hardly had to be dealt with by most people, and their rarity and want of infectiousness are recognized in the frequent failure of creeds and codes to provide against them. Custom has further strengthened and shaped the inborn resentment we cherish against such actions, and custom has been variously modified by historical surroundings; but the source of the repugnance is purely unreasoning instinct. . . .
It is clear how these instincts could have arisen. In the animal world, they are, in the main, a necessity. The species that consumes itself, habitually inbreeds, or neglects its offspring, perishes. The unreasoning conditions of nature therefore have impressed strong aversions to such practices, or have suppressed the instincts toward them, in virtually all higher animals. From our animal ancestors we no doubt derive the same feelings; but as we are a "political animal," whose life is influenced by civilizational surroundings, and who is therefore apparently exempt from the operation of the laws of biological evolution, these inherited instincts may be entirely superfluous and useless to us. That in spite of this superfluity all men cling to them most tenaciously, reveals them to be only part of our blind natal make-up, as much so as the impulse that leads the dog to sacrifice himself for his master, the ant for her hill, the tigress for her young, and the salmon for his unborn progeny.
However, since man is constituted as a cultural being, his instincts must take shape according to his civilization. Hence there exist, in distant times and places, wide divergences or even contradictions of moral teaching, though the moral impulses are always the same.
To kill a stranger is often no crime, where society is organized on a restricted local basis, because the stranger is an enemy. Yet people who proclaim and practice this doctrine are no more given to murder among themselves than we are who justify only the shooting of an admitted national foe. The horizon is different in the two cases, the mental and social environments diverse, the scale of judgment various; but the principles according to which men determine whether a killing is a dastardly murder or an act of patriotic merit, are identical.
In the same way, the definitions of different nations as to what constitutes incest are as variable as their condemnation of the crime is universal. Some modern civilized people are shocked at marriage between uncle and niece, more tolerate cousin-marriage, but nearly all American Indians revolt at both. Until the most recent years Englishmen broke the law of their land if a woman succeeded her dead sister as wife; among innumerable nations the dead husband's brother feels it his duty to wed his sister-in-law. There are Australian tribes today among whom the woman that it is a man's duty to marry is his father's sister's daughter, while wedlock with the equivalent cousin through his mother's sister is an enormity and a crime.
In short, among all men there is a recognition of certain groups within which murder, theft, and marriage are wrong. The extent and composition of the groups vary tremendously from people to people, but this variation is an accident of political or intellectual development, and in itself no index or effect of morality. . . .
We have seen the ethical ideals of different times and places to be highly colored by custom and by historical, economic, and intellectual surroundings, perhaps by natural environment even, although everywhere resting on the same basis and actuated by the same principles. There is also much variety in the terminology of the explanations given of morality. Of course religion has been particularly active here. In ancient Palestine Jehovah, the mountain, and the stone tablets were brought forward as a convincing argument, just as in native California Chungichnish with his associates the raven and the rattlesnake furnished the reason why we should be good rather than bad. Even when the ritualistic apparatus is passed by, or does not exist, there is a divergence of explanation, for a "child of nature" has neither the ideas nor the language of a dialectic thinker. And yet, after all, [Immanuel Kant,] the greatest philosopher since the Greeks, fell back, in the search for a basis of ethics, upon the "categorical imperative"; and it is doubtful whether in this conception, however satisfying it may be to our genuine and more advanced intellectual needs, he essentially transcended the American Indian's answer, to the question why a certain action is objectionable: "because it is bad." . . .
Nothing is more erroneous than the wide-spread idea and oft-repeated statement that the savage is only a child. In knowledge, to a certain extent in intellect even, he may not rank above the children of civilization; but in character, in emotions, and in morals, he is essentially and absolutely a man. . . . Men are men and essentially alike wherever born and however reared, and breadth of view uninfluenced by doctrinal purpose has always subscribed to this opinion. There is every reason to believe, accordingly, that uncivilized and civilized men practice what they respectively regard as virtue, to the same degree.
In short, the moral element in humanity is basically instinctive. If we believe in evolution from animals, we must find the source of human morality, as of human senses and emotions, in animal life. Being an inherent element of the human mind, it is psychologically unexplainable and finds its justification only in itself. As an integral constituent of man, it is common to all races in identical or virtually identical form. Variations in moral ideas are reflections of changes in civilization. As civilization, however, is something outside of race and independent of the human body; and as it affects only the body of knowledge possessed by a people and the actions connected with this knowledge, the principles of morality cannot be influenced by civilization, however the concrete expression of these principles may vary in their adaptation to particular forms of civilization. The apparent difference between the morality of savages and ourselves is therefore not really in the morality but in the civilization.
About the Author
Alfred L. Kroeber Alfred L. Kroeber was a major 20th-century U.S. anthropologist who gained particular fame for studying the language and customs of the Yahi people of California with the group's last surviving member, Ishi. An important anthropological researcher, theorist, and author, Kroeber influenced a generation of anthropologists from his post at the University of California and through his many published works. Among his most important contributions to the field are The Religion of the Indians of California (1907), Anthropology (1923), Handbook of the Indians of California (1925), Configurations of Culture Growth (1944), The Nature of Culture (1952), and Style and Civilizations (1957).
MLA Citation
"International Activity: Is Our Understanding of the World Dependent on Our Culture?" World Geography: Understanding a Changing World, ABC-CLIO, 2021, worldgeography.abc- clio.com/Support/InvestigateActivity/1346356. Accessed 4 Oct. 2021.
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This content may be used for non-commercial, educational purposes only. https://worldgeography.abc-clio.com/Support/InvestigateActivity/1346356 Cultural Relativism
Activity
Inquiry Question Is our understanding of the world dependent on our culture?
The image at right shows Franz Boas, proponent of the idea of cultural relativism, demonstrating a ritual of the Hamatsa group of Canada's Kwakiutl people. Since European explorers first began to travel the wider world and came into contact with peoples and places with which they were wholly unfamiliar, scholars have attempted to make sense of the diversity of human society and activity. European traditions of catholicity—that some ideas, particularly religious ones, were universally applicable— led in part to colonial attempts to stamp out native cultures and assimilate all the people of the world into European belief systems. Many believed that non-European cultures were "primitive" or "backward" in their development, with Western civilization held up as the highest form of society and culture and the arbiter of what was true and right. As science came to explain more of the physical world, scholars sought to use scientific methods to study humans and their societies, often in an effort to develop rules for cultural evolution and to determine the "progress" of various groups.
Beginning in the late 1800s, however, a generation of anthropologists began to take a different view. This new generation, led by the groundbreaking ethnologist and polymath Boas, eschewed the ends of science and took a view previously confined to philosophy—that the subjective experiences of humans were dependent at least in part, if not entirely, upon their cultural environment. In an 1887 article on museums, Boas dropped a bombshell that would forever alter antropological study when he wrote about "the dissemination of the fact that civilization is not something absolute, but that it is relative, and that our ideas and conceptions are true only so far as our civilization goes." The field of cultural anthropology, the study of diverse cultures and worldviews on their own terms, developed from this seed, and today students the world over face the same question that Boas once asked himself: Is our understanding of the world around us dependent on our culture?
Background Information
Social Sciences The roots of the modern discipline of anthropology lie in the latter half of the 19th century, a time when the methods and aims of science were being applied to a diversity of subjects in an effort to establish the degree of certitude afforded to natural sciences like physics, biology, and chemistry. Essentially, it was thought that if scientific advances in physics could lead to engineering feats like suspension bridges and skyscrapers, then similar advances in the understanding of the human world should lead to more appropriate policies concerning society, government, and human endeavors. This followed the mid-19th century development of positivism—a term popularized by French philosopher and pioneering sociologist Auguste Comte—and "social sciences" began to emerge and grow in popularity. Earlier descriptions of non-Western peoples by travelers, missionaries, explorers, and scholars tended to be deductive—that is, conclusions were drawn logically by comparing particular evidence with one's existing assumptions, making judgments about specific things depending on larger preexisting judgments about their nature and place. In the positivist tradition of the social sciences, however, the first formal anthropologists hoped to use inductive reasoning—whereby conclusions are based upon observations of specific instances that may produce patterns that can be used to formulate more general rules—to uncover universal laws about societies and the human condition. Among the social sciences, the discipline of anthropology began to emerge as a positivist "study of man," particularly in the United Kingdom and United States.
Anthropologists of the late 19th and early 20th centuries undertook efforts to study, measure, document, and compare the various people of the world. Many early efforts were concerned primarily with laying the foundations for inductive study by performing fieldwork among various peoples around the world who were not well understood by Western scholars, gathering all sorts of data, from physical measurements of body parts to descriptions of their dress, customs, and living arrangements. Sociologists of the time, including important thinkers like émile Durkheim and Herbert Spencer, often used such data to explain and classify human societies based upon ideas from biology, describing them as repeating the sorts of functions, composition, and evolution observed in the natural world. At the same time, other scholars used the data to develop theories of societal evolution based upon the influential ideas of Charles Darwin, in some cases promoting a scientific racism that held physical and cultural differences to indicate the natural inferiority of certain groups. These ideas influenced, and were at times furthered by, many anthropologists of the era. Anthropology was thus intimately tied to both sociology and the natural sciences, and adopted elements of both; in fact, there was so much overlap that it is often difficult to differentiate them.
Building upon a general notion of societal evolution that had been popular since the 18th century and was bolstered by analogy to Darwinian evolution, it became increasingly fashionable to hold that human societies progress through a series of stages, from simple to complex, according to a variety of factors. Among the implications of this theory was that smaller, more exotic societies were evolutionarily backward or primitive and that Western society was superior in its more highly evolved complexities; in a sense, it was held that the relationship between the society and lifestyle of a British industrialist and that of a Papuan tribesman was akin to that between a human and a chimpanzee (or perhaps Cro Magnon man and Australopithecus). Armed with such conceptions, colonialism became a noble undertaking—the "White Man's Burden," as famously put by British author Rudyard Kipling in his 1899 poem by the same name— whereby Europeans "bettered" the "primitive" peoples of the world by introducing them to European ways and ideas. Such undertakings were further fueled by scientific racism sometimes based upon anthropologists' data.
Yet anthropological fieldwork also led to the evolution of the idea of culture. Once defined as the trappings of high civilization and set apart as a distinguishing factor between highly evolved societies and primitive ones, culture came to be defined more broadly by anthropologists as the collection of all customs and beliefs held by a particular group. U.S. anthropologist Lewis Henry Morgan and his British colleague Edward Burnett Tylor utilized this broader idea of culture to put forward theories of societal and cultural evolution, incorporating technology, religion, law, art, medical practices, and many other customs into their analyses. What emerged was a concept of culture as an all-encompassing summary of the many facets of life within a group. Various cultures could be compared, and many early anthropologists did just that, fashioning a comparative method that led rather directly to ideas of cultural evolution and progress. It was thought that anthropologists and sociologists could discover laws about societies and their evolution by comparing cultural data from groups across the world and finding patterns that would indicate the trajectory of that evolution.
The German-American anthropologist Franz Boas was among the first to openly question the comparative method. Boas believed that cultures were not necessarily comparable; in a sense, he found that comparing two unrelated cultures was like comparing two unrelated fruits—one can learn little about pineapples by examining apples, and it would be wrong to assume that an apple is just a primitive pineapple because the pineapple is larger and more apparently complex. Instead of the comparative method, Boas preferred a method, similar to that popular among historians at the time, that prioritized unbiased description placed within its proper context and discarded the need for laws governing general societal or cultural evolution. Eventually, Boas came to espouse an idea now known as cultural relativism, the cornerstone of which was the concept that a culture must be understood on its own terms, not as part of a larger theory or in relation to another culture. In order to perform ethnographic fieldwork properly, it was thus necessary for anthropologists to immerse themselves as much as possible in the culture they were studying. In this tradition, fieldwork was to be less like scientific labwork and more like method acting.
Boas proved to be enormously influential in the United States, and an entire generation of American anthropologists studied under him or one of his early protégés; he directly taught such important figures as Alfred Kroeber, Robert Lowie, Edward Sapir, Ruth Benedict, and Margaret Mead. Since this was also the formative period for many U.S. universities, these disciples founded and populated anthropology programs throughout the country and institutionalized their methods. Other anthropologists—notably the Englishman A.R. Radcliffe-Brown— attempted to salvage the scientific and comparative aspects of anthropology by focusing on analyses and taxonomies of cultural systems, but by the 1960s the original positivist ideal was maligned by most anthropologists. Today, the methods of cultural anthropology (or social anthropology in the United Kingdom) are still primarily based upon ideas of cultural relativism, and it is commonly taught that unbiased, context-sensitive work should be at the heart of anthropological endeavors. Each society presents its own subject matter, to be examined and conveyed to members of other societies and cultural groups, and the popularization of both the methods and results of anthropological work have allowed for a wider understanding of the true diversity of humankind.
Evan Brown
MLA Citation: Brown, Evan. "Social Sciences." World Geography: Understanding a Changing World, ABC-CLIO, 2021, worldgeography.abc-clio.com/Search/Display/1346358. Accessed 4 Oct. 2021. Source
Commentary
Excerpt from "The Mind of Primitive Man" (1901)
The activities of the mind manifest themselves in thoughts and actions, and exhibit an infinite variety of form among the peoples of the world. In order to understand these clearly, the student must endeavor to divest himself entirely of opinions and emotions based upon the peculiar social environment into which he is born. He must adapt his own mind, so far as feasible, to that of the people whom he is studying. The more successful he is in freeing himself from the bias based on the group of ideas that constitute the civilization in which he lives, the more successful he will be in interpreting the beliefs and actions of man. He must follow lines of thought that are new to him. He must participate in new emotions, and understand how, under unwonted conditions, both lead to actions. Beliefs, customs, and the response of the individual to the events of daily life, give us ample opportunity to observe the manifestations of the mind of man under varying conditions. . . .
In our own community a mass of observations and of thoughts is transmitted to the child. These thoughts are the result of careful observation and speculation of our present and of past generations; but they are transmitted to most individuals as traditional matter, much the same as folklore. The child associates new perceptions with this whole mass of traditional material, and interprets his observations by its means. I believe it is a mistake to assume that the interpretation made by each civilized individual is a complete logical process. We associate a phenomenon with a number of known facts, the interpretations of which are assumed as known, and we are satisfied with the reduction of a new fact to these previously known facts. For instance, if the average individual hears of the explosion of a previously unknown chemical, he is satisfied to reason that certain materials are known to have the property of exploding under proper conditions, and that consequently the unknown substance has the same quality. . . .
The instruction given to the child of primitive man is not based on centuries of experimentation, but consists of the crude experience of generations. When a new experience enters the mind of primitive man, the same process which we observe among civilized man brings about an entirely different series of associations, and therefore results in a different type of explanation. A sudden explosion will associate itself in his mind, perhaps, with tales which he has heard in regard to the mythical history of the world, and consequently will be accompanied by superstitious fear. When we recognize that, neither among civilized man nor among primitive man, the average individual carries to completion the attempt at causal explanation of phenomena, but carries it only so far as to amalgamate it with other previously known facts, we recognize that the result of the whole process depends entirely upon the character of the traditional material: herein lies the immense importance of folklore in determining the mode of thought. Herein lies particularly the enormous influence of current philosophic opinion upon the masses of the people, and herein lies the influence of the dominant scientific theory upon the character of scientific work.
It would be in vain to try to understand the development of modern science without an intelligent understanding of modern philosophy; it would be in vain to try to understand the history of medieval science without an intelligent knowledge of medieval theology; and so it is in vain to try to understand primitive science without an intelligent knowledge of primitive mythology. Mythology, theology and philosophy are different terms for the same influences which shape the current of human thought, and which determine the character of the attempts of man to explain the phenomena of nature. To primitive man—who has been taught to consider the heavenly orbs as animate beings, who sees in every animal a being more powerful than man, to whom the mountains, trees and stones are endowed with life—explanations of phenomena will suggest themselves entirely different from those to which we are accustomed, since we base our conclusions upon the existence of matter and force as bringing about the observed results. If we do not consider it possible to explain the whole range of phenomena as the result of matter and force alone, all our explanations of natural phenomena must take a different aspect.
In scientific inquiries we should always be clear in our own minds of the fact that we do not carry the analysis of any given phenomenon to completion; but that we always embody a number of hypotheses and theories in our explanations. In fact, if we were to do so, progress would hardly become possible, because every phenomenon would require an endless amount of time for thorough treatment. We are only too apt, however, to forget entirely the general, and, for most of us, purely traditional, theoretical basis which is the foundation of our reasoning, and to assume that the result of our reasoning is absolute truth. . . .
The influence of traditional material upon the life of man is not restricted to his thoughts, but manifests itself no less in his activities. . . . When we consider, for instance, the whole range of our daily life, we notice how strictly we are dependent upon tradition that can not be accounted for by any logical reasoning. We eat our three meals every day, and feel unhappy if we have to forego one of them. There is no physiological reason which demands three meals a day, and we find that many people are satisfied with two meals, while others enjoy four or even more. The range of animals and plants which we utilize for food is limited, and we have a decided aversion against eating dogs, or horses, or cats. There is certainly no objective reason for such aversion, since a great many people consider dogs and horses as dainties. . . . The whole range of actions that are considered as proper and improper can not be explained by any logical reason, but are almost all entirely due to custom; that is to say, they are purely traditional. This is even true of customs which excite strong emotions, as, for instance, those produced by infractions of modesty. . . .
No action can find the approval of a people which is fundamentally opposed to its customs and traditions. Among ourselves it is considered proper and a matter of course to treat the old with respect, for children to look after the welfare of their aged parents; and not to do so would be considered base ingratitude. Among the Eskimo we find an entirely different standard. It is required of children to kill their parents when they have become so old as to be helpless and no longer of any use to the family or to the community. It would be considered a breach of filial duty not to kill the aged parent. Revolting though this custom may seem to us, it is founded on an ethical law of the Eskimo, which rests on the whole mass of traditional lore and custom. . . .
It is somewhat difficult for us to recognize that the value which we attribute to our own civilization is due to the fact that we participate in this civilization, and that it has been controlling all our actions since the time of our birth; but it is certainly conceivable that there may be other civilizations, based perhaps on different traditions and on a different equilibrium of emotion and reason which are of no less value than ours, although it may be impossible for us to appreciate their values without having grown up under their influence.
About the Author
Franz Boas Franz Boas was a leading anthropologist in the United States during the late 19th and early 20th centuries. Sometimes referred to as the "father of American anthropology," Boas was among the most influential theorists, field researchers, and instructors of his era. His most important works include "The Limitations of the Comparative Method of Anthropology" (1896), The Mind of Primitive Man (in book form, as opposed to the earlier article by the same name; 1911), "Changes in the Bodily Form of the Descendants of Immigrants" (1912), "Mythology and Folktales of the North American Indians" (1914), Primitive Art (1927), and Race, Language, and Culture (1940).
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Commentary
Excerpt from Folkways (1906)
The folkways are the "right" ways to satisfy all interests, because they are traditional, and exist in fact. They extend over the whole of life. There is a right way to catch game, to win a wife, to make one's self appear, to cure disease, to honor ghosts, to treat comrades or strangers, to behave when a child is born, on the warpath, in council, and so on in all cases which can arise. . . . The "right" way is the way which the ancestors used and which has been handed down. The tradition is its own warrant. It is not held subject to verification by experience. The notion of right is in the folkways. It is not outside of them, of independent origin, and brought to them to test them. In the folkways, whatever is, is right. . . . "Rights" are the rules of mutual give and take in the competition of life which are imposed on comrades in the in-group, in order that the peace may prevail there which is essential to the group strength. Therefore rights can never be "natural" or "God-given," or absolute in any sense. The morality of a group at a time is the sum of the taboos and prescriptions in the folkways by which right conduct is defined. Therefore morals can never be intuitive. They are historical, institutional, and empirical.
World philosophy, life policy, right, rights, and morality are all products of the folkways. . . . The faith in the world philosophy drew lines outside of which the folkways must not go. Crude and vague notions of societal welfare were formed from the notion of pleasing the ghosts, and from such notions of expediency as the opinion that, if there were not children enough, there would not be warriors enough, or that, if there were too many children, the food supply would not be adequate. The notion of welfare was an inference and resultant from these mystic and utilitarian generalizations.
When the elements of truth and right are developed into doctrines of welfare, the folkways are raised to another plane. They then become capable of producing inferences, developing into new forms, and extending their constructive influence over men and society. Then we call them the mores. The mores are the folkways, including the philosophical and ethical generalizations as to societal welfare which are suggested by them, and inherent in them, as they grow. . . .
The mores come down to us from the past. Each individual is born into them as he is born into the atmosphere, and he does not reflect on them, or criticise them any more than a baby analyzes the atmosphere before he begins to breathe it. Each one is subjected to the influence of the mores, and formed by them, before he is capable of reasoning about them. . . . Nothing can ever change them but the unconscious and imperceptible movement of the mores. Religion was originally a matter of the mores. It became a societal institution and a function of the state. It has now to a great extent been put back into the mores. Since laws with penalties to enforce religious creeds or practices have gone out of use any one may think and act as he pleases about religion. . . . Democracy is in our American mores. It is a product of our physical and economic conditions. It is impossible to discuss or criticise it. It is glorified for popularity, and is a subject of dithyrambic rhetoric. No one treats it with complete candor and sincerity. No one dares to analyze it as he would aristocracy or autocracy. He would get no hearing and would only incur abuse.Page 8. .of . 15 The mores contain the norm by which, if we should discuss the mores, we should have to judge the mores. We learn the mores as unconsciously as we learn to walk and eat and breathe. The masses never learn how we walk, and eat, and breathe, and they never know any reason why the mores are what they are. The justification of them is that when we wake to consciousness of life we find them facts which already hold us in the bonds of tradition, custom, and habit. The mores contain embodied in them notions, doctrines, and maxims, but they are facts. They are in the present tense. They have nothing to do with what ought to be, will be, may be, or once was, if it is not now. . . .
A society does not record its mores in its annals, because they are to it unnoticed and unconscious. When we try to learn the mores of any age or people we have to seek our information in incidental references, allusions, observations of travelers, etc. Generally works of fiction, drama, etc., give us more information about the mores than historical records. . . . The mores are not recorded for the same reason that meals, going to bed, sunrise, etc., are not recorded, unless the regular course of things is broken.
We see that we must conceive of the mores as a vast system of usages, covering the whole of life, and serving all its interests; also containing in themselves their own justification by tradition and use and wont, and approved by mystic sanctions until, by rational reflection, they develop their own philosophical and ethical generalizations, which are elevated into "principles" of truth and right. They coerce and restrict the newborn generation. They do not stimulate to thought, but the contrary. The thinking is already done and is embodied in the mores. They never contain any provision for their own amendment. They are not questions, but answers, to the problem of life. They present themselves as final and unchangeable, because they present answers which are offered as "the truth." . . .
All the groups whose mores we consider far inferior to our own are quite as well satisfied with theirs as we are with ours. The goodness or badness of mores consists entirely in their adjustment to the life conditions and the interests of the time and place. Therefore it is a sign of ease and welfare when no thought is given to the mores, but all cooperate in them instinctively. . . .
At every turn we find new evidence that the mores can make anything right. What they do is that they cover a usage in dress, language, behavior, manners, etc., with the mantle of current custom, and give it regulation and limits within which it becomes unquestionable. The limit is generally a limit of toleration. . . . In regard to all social customs, the mores sanction them by defining them and giving them form. Such regulated customs are etiquette. The regulation by the mores always gives order and form, and thus surrounds life with limits within which we may and beyond which we may not pursue our interests (e.g., property and marriage). . . . The mores set the limits or define the disapproval. . . .
It cannot be doubted that, at any time, all ethical judgments are made through the atmosphere of the mores of the time. It is they which tell us what is right. It is only by high mental discipline that we can be trained to rise above that atmosphere and form rational judgments on current cases. This mental independence and ethical power are the highest products of education. They are also perilous. Our worst cranks are those who get the independence and power, but cannot stand alone and form correct judgments outside of the mores of the time and place. It must be remembered that the mores sometimes becloud the judgment, but they more often guide it.
About the Author
WIlliam Graham Sumner William Graham Sumner was an influential historian, economist, social scientist, critic, and teacher. Though often known primarily for his social Darwinist and free-market economic theories, he also wrote on a variety of other subjects, including cultural development and its effect on human societies. Among his many works are A History of American Currency (1874), What Social Classes Owe Each Other (1883), Protectionism (1885), The Financier and Finances of the American Revolution (1891), A History of Banking in All the Leading Nations (1896), Folkways (1906), and The Science of Society (1927).
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Commentary
Excerpt from "The Morals of Uncivilized People" (1910)
[H]owever great or small their power of reasoning, it is conceded that the mental endowment of all living beings lower than man is essentially if not altogether instinctive. . . . As there is nothing homologous to the rudest culture or civilization among even the highest animals, custom cannot materially influence them, and their equivalent of our morality must be entirely instinctive.
But when humanity is considered, the alleged distinction between the uncivilized and civilized races seems untrue. That any people, or any person even, has ever really regulated conduct by ideas or reason, is a delusion. The delusion is a common one because it is pleasing to flatter ourselves that our acts spring from purely rational motives. In fact, and of course, all real action precedes and determines intellectual reasoning, which, being analytical, cannot but be ex post facto [after the fact] and secondary. If this is true of ourselves, it obviously applies to people of less civilization, and must be a basic trait of all mankind, inherent in the constitution of human nature. . . .
There can be no doubt that the essential moral ideas of man spring from instinct. The repugnance toward murder, appropriation of the possessions of others, treachery, and want of hospitality, is based as little on considerations of social advantage or logical deductions as the sentiments are common to all races and times. The actions that are naturally the most abhorrent to everyone, such as cannibalism, incest, and lack of parental or filial devotion, are so thoroughly instinctive that these crimes have hardly had to be dealt with by most people, and their rarity and want of infectiousness are recognized in the frequent failure of creeds and codes to provide against them. Custom has further strengthened and shaped the inborn resentment we cherish against such actions, and custom has been variously modified by historical surroundings; but the source of the repugnance is purely unreasoning instinct. . . .
It is clear how these instincts could have arisen. In the animal world, they are, in the main, a necessity. The species that consumes itself, habitually inbreeds, or neglects its offspring, perishes. The unreasoning conditions of nature therefore have impressed strong aversions to such practices, or have suppressed the instincts toward them, in virtually all higher animals. From our animal ancestors we no doubt derive the same feelings; but as we are a "political animal," whose life is influenced by civilizational surroundings, and who is therefore apparently exempt from the operation of the laws of biological evolution, these inherited instincts may be entirely superfluous and useless to us. That in spite of this superfluity all men cling to them most tenaciously, reveals them to be only part of our blind natal make-up, as much so as the impulse that leads the dog to sacrifice himself for his master, the ant for her hill, the tigress for her young, and the salmon for his unborn progeny.
However, since man is constituted as a cultural being, his instincts must take shape according to his civilization. Hence there exist, in distant times and places, wide divergences or even contradictions of moral teaching, though the moral impulses are always the same.
To kill a stranger is often no crime, where society is organized on a restricted local basis, because the stranger is an enemy. Yet people who proclaim and practice this doctrine are no more given to murder among themselves than we are who justify only the shooting of an admitted national foe. The horizon is different in the two cases, the mental and social environments diverse, the scale of judgment various; but the principles according to which men determine whether a killing is a dastardly murder or an act of patriotic merit, are identical.
In the same way, the definitions of different nations as to what constitutes incest are as variable as their condemnation of the crime is universal. Some modern civilized people are shocked at marriage between uncle and niece, more tolerate cousin-marriage, but nearly all American Indians revolt at both. Until the most recent years Englishmen broke the law of their land if a woman succeeded her dead sister as wife; among innumerable nations the dead husband's brother feels it his duty to wed his sister-in-law. There are Australian tribes today among whom the woman that it is a man's duty to marry is his father's sister's daughter, while wedlock with the equivalent cousin through his mother's sister is an enormity and a crime.
In short, among all men there is a recognition of certain groups within which murder, theft, and marriage are wrong. The extent and composition of the groups vary tremendously from people to people, but this variation is an accident of political or intellectual development, and in itself no index or effect of morality. . . .
We have seen the ethical ideals of different times and places to be highly colored by custom and by historical, economic, and intellectual surroundings, perhaps by natural environment even, although everywhere resting on the same basis and actuated by the same principles. There is also much variety in the terminology of the explanations given of morality. Of course religion has been particularly active here. In ancient Palestine Jehovah, the mountain, and the stone tablets were brought forward as a convincing argument, just as in native California Chungichnish with his associates the raven and the rattlesnake furnished the reason why we should be good rather than bad. Even when the ritualistic apparatus is passed by, or does not exist, there is a divergence of explanation, for a "child of nature" has neither the ideas nor the language of a dialectic thinker. And yet, after all, [Immanuel Kant,] the greatest philosopher since the Greeks, fell back, in the search for a basis of ethics, upon the "categorical imperative"; and it is doubtful whether in this conception, however satisfying it may be to our genuine and more advanced intellectual needs, he essentially transcended the American Indian's answer, to the question why a certain action is objectionable: "because it is bad." . . .
Nothing is more erroneous than the wide-spread idea and oft-repeated statement that the savage is only a child. In knowledge, to a certain extent in intellect even, he may not rank above the children of civilization; but in character, in emotions, and in morals, he is essentially and absolutely a man. . . . Men are men and essentially alike wherever born and however reared, and breadth of view uninfluenced by doctrinal purpose has always subscribed to this opinion. There is every reason to believe, accordingly, that uncivilized and civilized men practice what they respectively regard as virtue, to the same degree.
In short, the moral element in humanity is basically instinctive. If we believe in evolution from animals, we must find the source of human morality, as of human senses and emotions, in animal life. Being an inherent element of the human mind, it is psychologically unexplainable and finds its justification only in itself. As an integral constituent of man, it is common to all races in identical or virtually identical form. Variations in moral ideas are reflections of changes in civilization. As civilization, however, is something outside of race and independent of the human body; and as it affects only the body of knowledge possessed by a people and the actions connected with this knowledge, the principles of morality cannot be influenced by civilization, however the concrete expression of these principles may vary in their adaptation to particular forms of civilization. The apparent difference between the morality of savages and ourselves is therefore not really in the morality but in the civilization.
About the Author
Alfred L. Kroeber Alfred L. Kroeber was a major 20th-century U.S. anthropologist who gained particular fame for studying the language and customs of the Yahi people of California with the group's last surviving member, Ishi. An important anthropological researcher, theorist, and author, Kroeber influenced a generation of anthropologists from his post at the University of California and through his many published works. Among his most important contributions to the field are The Religion of the Indians of California (1907), Anthropology (1923), Handbook of the Indians of California (1925), Configurations of Culture Growth (1944), The Nature of Culture (1952), and Style and Civilizations (1957).
MLA Citation
"International Activity: Is Our Understanding of the World Dependent on Our Culture?" World Geography: Understanding a Changing World, ABC-CLIO, 2021, worldgeography.abc- clio.com/Support/InvestigateActivity/1346356. Accessed 4 Oct. 2021.
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This content may be used for non-commercial, educational purposes only. https://worldgeography.abc-clio.com/Support/InvestigateActivity/1346356 Cultural Relativism
Activity
Inquiry Question Is our understanding of the world dependent on our culture?
The image at right shows Franz Boas, proponent of the idea of cultural relativism, demonstrating a ritual of the Hamatsa group of Canada's Kwakiutl people. Since European explorers first began to travel the wider world and came into contact with peoples and places with which they were wholly unfamiliar, scholars have attempted to make sense of the diversity of human society and activity. European traditions of catholicity—that some ideas, particularly religious ones, were universally applicable— led in part to colonial attempts to stamp out native cultures and assimilate all the people of the world into European belief systems. Many believed that non-European cultures were "primitive" or "backward" in their development, with Western civilization held up as the highest form of society and culture and the arbiter of what was true and right. As science came to explain more of the physical world, scholars sought to use scientific methods to study humans and their societies, often in an effort to develop rules for cultural evolution and to determine the "progress" of various groups.
Beginning in the late 1800s, however, a generation of anthropologists began to take a different view. This new generation, led by the groundbreaking ethnologist and polymath Boas, eschewed the ends of science and took a view previously confined to philosophy—that the subjective experiences of humans were dependent at least in part, if not entirely, upon their cultural environment. In an 1887 article on museums, Boas dropped a bombshell that would forever alter antropological study when he wrote about "the dissemination of the fact that civilization is not something absolute, but that it is relative, and that our ideas and conceptions are true only so far as our civilization goes." The field of cultural anthropology, the study of diverse cultures and worldviews on their own terms, developed from this seed, and today students the world over face the same question that Boas once asked himself: Is our understanding of the world around us dependent on our culture?
Background Information
Social Sciences The roots of the modern discipline of anthropology lie in the latter half of the 19th century, a time when the methods and aims of science were being applied to a diversity of subjects in an effort to establish the degree of certitude afforded to natural sciences like physics, biology, and chemistry. Essentially, it was thought that if scientific advances in physics could lead to engineering feats like suspension bridges and skyscrapers, then similar advances in the understanding of the human world should lead to more appropriate policies concerning society, government, and human endeavors. This followed the mid-19th century development of positivism—a term popularized by French philosopher and pioneering sociologist Auguste Comte—and "social sciences" began to emerge and grow in popularity. Earlier descriptions of non-Western peoples by travelers, missionaries, explorers, and scholars tended to be deductive—that is, conclusions were drawn logically by comparing particular evidence with one's existing assumptions, making judgments about specific things depending on larger preexisting judgments about their nature and place. In the positivist tradition of the social sciences, however, the first formal anthropologists hoped to use inductive reasoning—whereby conclusions are based upon observations of specific instances that may produce patterns that can be used to formulate more general rules—to uncover universal laws about societies and the human condition. Among the social sciences, the discipline of anthropology began to emerge as a positivist "study of man," particularly in the United Kingdom and United States.
Anthropologists of the late 19th and early 20th centuries undertook efforts to study, measure, document, and compare the various people of the world. Many early efforts were concerned primarily with laying the foundations for inductive study by performing fieldwork among various peoples around the world who were not well understood by Western scholars, gathering all sorts of data, from physical measurements of body parts to descriptions of their dress, customs, and living arrangements. Sociologists of the time, including important thinkers like émile Durkheim and Herbert Spencer, often used such data to explain and classify human societies based upon ideas from biology, describing them as repeating the sorts of functions, composition, and evolution observed in the natural world. At the same time, other scholars used the data to develop theories of societal evolution based upon the influential ideas of Charles Darwin, in some cases promoting a scientific racism that held physical and cultural differences to indicate the natural inferiority of certain groups. These ideas influenced, and were at times furthered by, many anthropologists of the era. Anthropology was thus intimately tied to both sociology and the natural sciences, and adopted elements of both; in fact, there was so much overlap that it is often difficult to differentiate them.
Building upon a general notion of societal evolution that had been popular since the 18th century and was bolstered by analogy to Darwinian evolution, it became increasingly fashionable to hold that human societies progress through a series of stages, from simple to complex, according to a variety of factors. Among the implications of this theory was that smaller, more exotic societies were evolutionarily backward or primitive and that Western society was superior in its more highly evolved complexities; in a sense, it was held that the relationship between the society and lifestyle of a British industrialist and that of a Papuan tribesman was akin to that between a human and a chimpanzee (or perhaps Cro Magnon man and Australopithecus). Armed with such conceptions, colonialism became a noble undertaking—the "White Man's Burden," as famously put by British author Rudyard Kipling in his 1899 poem by the same name— whereby Europeans "bettered" the "primitive" peoples of the world by introducing them to European ways and ideas. Such undertakings were further fueled by scientific racism sometimes based upon anthropologists' data.
Yet anthropological fieldwork also led to the evolution of the idea of culture. Once defined as the trappings of high civilization and set apart as a distinguishing factor between highly evolved societies and primitive ones, culture came to be defined more broadly by anthropologists as the collection of all customs and beliefs held by a particular group. U.S. anthropologist Lewis Henry Morgan and his British colleague Edward Burnett Tylor utilized this broader idea of culture to put forward theories of societal and cultural evolution, incorporating technology, religion, law, art, medical practices, and many other customs into their analyses. What emerged was a concept of culture as an all-encompassing summary of the many facets of life within a group. Various cultures could be compared, and many early anthropologists did just that, fashioning a comparative method that led rather directly to ideas of cultural evolution and progress. It was thought that anthropologists and sociologists could discover laws about societies and their evolution by comparing cultural data from groups across the world and finding patterns that would indicate the trajectory of that evolution.
The German-American anthropologist Franz Boas was among the first to openly question the comparative method. Boas believed that cultures were not necessarily comparable; in a sense, he found that comparing two unrelated cultures was like comparing two unrelated fruits—one can learn little about pineapples by examining apples, and it would be wrong to assume that an apple is just a primitive pineapple because the pineapple is larger and more apparently complex. Instead of the comparative method, Boas preferred a method, similar to that popular among historians at the time, that prioritized unbiased description placed within its proper context and discarded the need for laws governing general societal or cultural evolution. Eventually, Boas came to espouse an idea now known as cultural relativism, the cornerstone of which was the concept that a culture must be understood on its own terms, not as part of a larger theory or in relation to another culture. In order to perform ethnographic fieldwork properly, it was thus necessary for anthropologists to immerse themselves as much as possible in the culture they were studying. In this tradition, fieldwork was to be less like scientific labwork and more like method acting.
Boas proved to be enormously influential in the United States, and an entire generation of American anthropologists studied under him or one of his early protégés; he directly taught such important figures as Alfred Kroeber, Robert Lowie, Edward Sapir, Ruth Benedict, and Margaret Mead. Since this was also the formative period for many U.S. universities, these disciples founded and populated anthropology programs throughout the country and institutionalized their methods. Other anthropologists—notably the Englishman A.R. Radcliffe-Brown— attempted to salvage the scientific and comparative aspects of anthropology by focusing on analyses and taxonomies of cultural systems, but by the 1960s the original positivist ideal was maligned by most anthropologists. Today, the methods of cultural anthropology (or social anthropology in the United Kingdom) are still primarily based upon ideas of cultural relativism, and it is commonly taught that unbiased, context-sensitive work should be at the heart of anthropological endeavors. Each society presents its own subject matter, to be examined and conveyed to members of other societies and cultural groups, and the popularization of both the methods and results of anthropological work have allowed for a wider understanding of the true diversity of humankind.
Evan Brown
MLA Citation: Brown, Evan. "Social Sciences." World Geography: Understanding a Changing World, ABC-CLIO, 2021, worldgeography.abc-clio.com/Search/Display/1346358. Accessed 4 Oct. 2021. Source
Commentary
Excerpt from "The Mind of Primitive Man" (1901)
The activities of the mind manifest themselves in thoughts and actions, and exhibit an infinite variety of form among the peoples of the world. In order to understand these clearly, the student must endeavor to divest himself entirely of opinions and emotions based upon the peculiar social environment into which he is born. He must adapt his own mind, so far as feasible, to that of the people whom he is studying. The more successful he is in freeing himself from the bias based on the group of ideas that constitute the civilization in which he lives, the more successful he will be in interpreting the beliefs and actions of man. He must follow lines of thought that are new to him. He must participate in new emotions, and understand how, under unwonted conditions, both lead to actions. Beliefs, customs, and the response of the individual to the events of daily life, give us ample opportunity to observe the manifestations of the mind of man under varying conditions. . . .
In our own community a mass of observations and of thoughts is transmitted to the child. These thoughts are the result of careful observation and speculation of our present and of past generations; but they are transmitted to most individuals as traditional matter, much the same as folklore. The child associates new perceptions with this whole mass of traditional material, and interprets his observations by its means. I believe it is a mistake to assume that the interpretation made by each civilized individual is a complete logical process. We associate a phenomenon with a number of known facts, the interpretations of which are assumed as known, and we are satisfied with the reduction of a new fact to these previously known facts. For instance, if the average individual hears of the explosion of a previously unknown chemical, he is satisfied to reason that certain materials are known to have the property of exploding under proper conditions, and that consequently the unknown substance has the same quality. . . .
The instruction given to the child of primitive man is not based on centuries of experimentation, but consists of the crude experience of generations. When a new experience enters the mind of primitive man, the same process which we observe among civilized man brings about an entirely different series of associations, and therefore results in a different type of explanation. A sudden explosion will associate itself in his mind, perhaps, with tales which he has heard in regard to the mythical history of the world, and consequently will be accompanied by superstitious fear. When we recognize that, neither among civilized man nor among primitive man, the average individual carries to completion the attempt at causal explanation of phenomena, but carries it only so far as to amalgamate it with other previously known facts, we recognize that the result of the whole process depends entirely upon the character of the traditional material: herein lies the immense importance of folklore in determining the mode of thought. Herein lies particularly the enormous influence of current philosophic opinion upon the masses of the people, and herein lies the influence of the dominant scientific theory upon the character of scientific work.
It would be in vain to try to understand the development of modern science without an intelligent understanding of modern philosophy; it would be in vain to try to understand the history of medieval science without an intelligent knowledge of medieval theology; and so it is in vain to try to understand primitive science without an intelligent knowledge of primitive mythology. Mythology, theology and philosophy are different terms for the same influences which shape the current of human thought, and which determine the character of the attempts of man to explain the phenomena of nature. To primitive man—who has been taught to consider the heavenly orbs as animate beings, who sees in every animal a being more powerful than man, to whom the mountains, trees and stones are endowed with life—explanations of phenomena will suggest themselves entirely different from those to which we are accustomed, since we base our conclusions upon the existence of matter and force as bringing about the observed results. If we do not consider it possible to explain the whole range of phenomena as the result of matter and force alone, all our explanations of natural phenomena must take a different aspect.
In scientific inquiries we should always be clear in our own minds of the fact that we do not carry the analysis of any given phenomenon to completion; but that we always embody a number of hypotheses and theories in our explanations. In fact, if we were to do so, progress would hardly become possible, because every phenomenon would require an endless amount of time for thorough treatment. We are only too apt, however, to forget entirely the general, and, for most of us, purely traditional, theoretical basis which is the foundation of our reasoning, and to assume that the result of our reasoning is absolute truth. . . .
The influence of traditional material upon the life of man is not restricted to his thoughts, but manifests itself no less in his activities. . . . When we consider, for instance, the whole range of our daily life, we notice how strictly we are dependent upon tradition that can not be accounted for by any logical reasoning. We eat our three meals every day, and feel unhappy if we have to forego one of them. There is no physiological reason which demands three meals a day, and we find that many people are satisfied with two meals, while others enjoy four or even more. The range of animals and plants which we utilize for food is limited, and we have a decided aversion against eating dogs, or horses, or cats. There is certainly no objective reason for such aversion, since a great many people consider dogs and horses as dainties. . . . The whole range of actions that are considered as proper and improper can not be explained by any logical reason, but are almost all entirely due to custom; that is to say, they are purely traditional. This is even true of customs which excite strong emotions, as, for instance, those produced by infractions of modesty. . . .
No action can find the approval of a people which is fundamentally opposed to its customs and traditions. Among ourselves it is considered proper and a matter of course to treat the old with respect, for children to look after the welfare of their aged parents; and not to do so would be considered base ingratitude. Among the Eskimo we find an entirely different standard. It is required of children to kill their parents when they have become so old as to be helpless and no longer of any use to the family or to the community. It would be considered a breach of filial duty not to kill the aged parent. Revolting though this custom may seem to us, it is founded on an ethical law of the Eskimo, which rests on the whole mass of traditional lore and custom. . . .
It is somewhat difficult for us to recognize that the value which we attribute to our own civilization is due to the fact that we participate in this civilization, and that it has been controlling all our actions since the time of our birth; but it is certainly conceivable that there may be other civilizations, based perhaps on different traditions and on a different equilibrium of emotion and reason which are of no less value than ours, although it may be impossible for us to appreciate their values without having grown up under their influence.
About the Author
Franz Boas Franz Boas was a leading anthropologist in the United States during the late 19th and early 20th centuries. Sometimes referred to as the "father of American anthropology," Boas was among the most influential theorists, field researchers, and instructors of his era. His most important works include "The Limitations of the Comparative Method of Anthropology" (1896), The Mind of Primitive Man (in book form, as opposed to the earlier article by the same name; 1911), "Changes in the Bodily Form of the Descendants of Immigrants" (1912), "Mythology and Folktales of the North American Indians" (1914), Primitive Art (1927), and Race, Language, and Culture (1940).
Source
Commentary
Excerpt from Folkways (1906)
The folkways are the "right" ways to satisfy all interests, because they are traditional, and exist in fact. They extend over the whole of life. There is a right way to catch game, to win a wife, to make one's self appear, to cure disease, to honor ghosts, to treat comrades or strangers, to behave when a child is born, on the warpath, in council, and so on in all cases which can arise. . . . The "right" way is the way which the ancestors used and which has been handed down. The tradition is its own warrant. It is not held subject to verification by experience. The notion of right is in the folkways. It is not outside of them, of independent origin, and brought to them to test them. In the folkways, whatever is, is right. . . . "Rights" are the rules of mutual give and take in the competition of life which are imposed on comrades in the in-group, in order that the peace may prevail there which is essential to the group strength. Therefore rights can never be "natural" or "God-given," or absolute in any sense. The morality of a group at a time is the sum of the taboos and prescriptions in the folkways by which right conduct is defined. Therefore morals can never be intuitive. They are historical, institutional, and empirical.
World philosophy, life policy, right, rights, and morality are all products of the folkways. . . . The faith in the world philosophy drew lines outside of which the folkways must not go. Crude and vague notions of societal welfare were formed from the notion of pleasing the ghosts, and from such notions of expediency as the opinion that, if there were not children enough, there would not be warriors enough, or that, if there were too many children, the food supply would not be adequate. The notion of welfare was an inference and resultant from these mystic and utilitarian generalizations.
When the elements of truth and right are developed into doctrines of welfare, the folkways are raised to another plane. They then become capable of producing inferences, developing into new forms, and extending their constructive influence over men and society. Then we call them the mores. The mores are the folkways, including the philosophical and ethical generalizations as to societal welfare which are suggested by them, and inherent in them, as they grow. . . .
The mores come down to us from the past. Each individual is born into them as he is born into the atmosphere, and he does not reflect on them, or criticise them any more than a baby analyzes the atmosphere before he begins to breathe it. Each one is subjected to the influence of the mores, and formed by them, before he is capable of reasoning about them. . . . Nothing can ever change them but the unconscious and imperceptible movement of the mores. Religion was originally a matter of the mores. It became a societal institution and a function of the state. It has now to a great extent been put back into the mores. Since laws with penalties to enforce religious creeds or practices have gone out of use any one may think and act as he pleases about religion. . . . Democracy is in our American mores. It is a product of our physical and economic conditions. It is impossible to discuss or criticise it. It is glorified for popularity, and is a subject of dithyrambic rhetoric. No one treats it with complete candor and sincerity. No one dares to analyze it as he would aristocracy or autocracy. He would get no hearing and would only incur abuse. . . . The mores contain the norm by which, if we should discuss the mores, we should have to judge the mores. We learn the mores as unconsciously as we learn to walk and eat and breathe. The masses never learn how we walk, and eat, and breathe, and they never know any reason why the mores are what they are. The justification of them is that when we wake to consciousness of life we find them facts which already hold us in the bonds of tradition, custom, and habit. The mores contain embodied in them notions, doctrines, and maxims, but they are facts. They are in the present tense. They have nothing to do with what ought to be, will be, may be, or once was, if it is not now. . . .
A society does not record its mores in its annals, because they are to it unnoticed and unconscious. When we try to learn the mores of any age or people we have to seek our information in incidental references, allusions, observations of travelers, etc. Generally works of fiction, drama, etc., give us more information about the mores than historical records. . . . The mores are not recorded for the same reason that meals, going to bed, sunrise, etc., are not recorded, unless the regular course of things is broken.
We see that we must conceive of the mores as a vast system of usages, covering the whole of life, and serving all its interests; also containing in themselves their own justification by tradition and use and wont, and approved by mystic sanctions until, by rational reflection, they develop their own philosophical and ethical generalizations, which are elevated into "principles" of truth and right. They coerce and restrict the newborn generation. They do not stimulate to thought, but the contrary. The thinking is already done and is embodied in the mores. They never contain any provision for their own amendment. They are not questions, but answers, to the problem of life. They present themselves as final and unchangeable, because they present answers which are offered as "the truth." . . .
All the groups whose mores we consider far inferior to our own are quite as well satisfied with theirs as we are with ours. The goodness or badness of mores consists entirely in their adjustment to the life conditions and the interests of the time and place. Therefore it is a sign of ease and welfare when no thought is given to the mores, but all cooperate in them instinctively. . . .
At every turn we find new evidence that the mores can make anything right. What they do is that they cover a usage in dress, language, behavior, manners, etc., with the mantle of current custom, and give it regulation and limits within which it becomes unquestionable. The limit is generally a limit of toleration. . . . In regard to all social customs, the mores sanction them by defining them and giving them form. Such regulated customs are etiquette. The regulation by the mores always gives order and form, and thus surrounds life with limits within which we may and beyond which we may not pursue our interests (e.g., property and marriage). . . . The mores set the limits or define the disapproval. . . .
It cannot be doubted that, at any time, all ethical judgments are made through the atmosphere of the mores of the time. It is they which tell us what is right. It is only by high mental discipline that we can be trained to rise above that atmosphere and form rational judgments on current cases. This mental independence and ethical power are the highest products of education. They are also perilous. Our worst cranks are those who get the independence and power, but cannot stand alone and form correct judgments outside of the mores of the time and place. It must be remembered that the mores sometimes becloud the judgment,Page but they 9 of 15 more often guide it.
About the Author
WIlliam Graham Sumner William Graham Sumner was an influential historian, economist, social scientist, critic, and teacher. Though often known primarily for his social Darwinist and free-market economic theories, he also wrote on a variety of other subjects, including cultural development and its effect on human societies. Among his many works are A History of American Currency (1874), What Social Classes Owe Each Other (1883), Protectionism (1885), The Financier and Finances of the American Revolution (1891), A History of Banking in All the Leading Nations (1896), Folkways (1906), and The Science of Society (1927).
Source
Commentary
Excerpt from "The Morals of Uncivilized People" (1910)
[H]owever great or small their power of reasoning, it is conceded that the mental endowment of all living beings lower than man is essentially if not altogether instinctive. . . . As there is nothing homologous to the rudest culture or civilization among even the highest animals, custom cannot materially influence them, and their equivalent of our morality must be entirely instinctive.
But when humanity is considered, the alleged distinction between the uncivilized and civilized races seems untrue. That any people, or any person even, has ever really regulated conduct by ideas or reason, is a delusion. The delusion is a common one because it is pleasing to flatter ourselves that our acts spring from purely rational motives. In fact, and of course, all real action precedes and determines intellectual reasoning, which, being analytical, cannot but be ex post facto [after the fact] and secondary. If this is true of ourselves, it obviously applies to people of less civilization, and must be a basic trait of all mankind, inherent in the constitution of human nature. . . .
There can be no doubt that the essential moral ideas of man spring from instinct. The repugnance toward murder, appropriation of the possessions of others, treachery, and want of hospitality, is based as little on considerations of social advantage or logical deductions as the sentiments are common to all races and times. The actions that are naturally the most abhorrent to everyone, such as cannibalism, incest, and lack of parental or filial devotion, are so thoroughly instinctive that these crimes have hardly had to be dealt with by most people, and their rarity and want of infectiousness are recognized in the frequent failure of creeds and codes to provide against them. Custom has further strengthened and shaped the inborn resentment we cherish against such actions, and custom has been variously modified by historical surroundings; but the source of the repugnance is purely unreasoning instinct. . . .
It is clear how these instincts could have arisen. In the animal world, they are, in the main, a necessity. The species that consumes itself, habitually inbreeds, or neglects its offspring, perishes. The unreasoning conditions of nature therefore have impressed strong aversions to such practices, or have suppressed the instincts toward them, in virtually all higher animals. From our animal ancestors we no doubt derive the same feelings; but as we are a "political animal," whose life is influenced by civilizational surroundings, and who is therefore apparently exempt from the operation of the laws of biological evolution, these inherited instincts may be entirely superfluous and useless to us. That in spite of this superfluity all men cling to them most tenaciously, reveals them to be only part of our blind natal make-up, as much so as the impulse that leads the dog to sacrifice himself for his master, the ant for her hill, the tigress for her young, and the salmon for his unborn progeny.
However, since man is constituted as a cultural being, his instincts must take shape according to his civilization. Hence there exist, in distant times and places, wide divergences or even contradictions of moral teaching, though the moral impulses are always the same.
To kill a stranger is often no crime, where society is organized on a restricted local basis, because the stranger is an enemy. Yet people who proclaim and practice this doctrine are no more given to murder among themselves than we are who justify only the shooting of an admitted national foe. The horizon is different in the two cases, the mental and social environments diverse, the scale of judgment various; but the principles according to which men determine whether a killing is a dastardly murder or an act of patriotic merit, are identical.
In the same way, the definitions of different nations as to what constitutes incest are as variable as their condemnation of the crime is universal. Some modern civilized people are shocked at marriage between uncle and niece, more tolerate cousin-marriage, but nearly all American Indians revolt at both. Until the most recent years Englishmen broke the law of their land if a woman succeeded her dead sister as wife; among innumerable nations the dead husband's brother feels it his duty to wed his sister-in-law. There are Australian tribes today among whom the woman that it is a man's duty to marry is his father's sister's daughter, while wedlock with the equivalent cousin through his mother's sister is an enormity and a crime.
In short, among all men there is a recognition of certain groups within which murder, theft, and marriage are wrong. The extent and composition of the groups vary tremendously from people to people, but this variation is an accident of political or intellectual development, and in itself no index or effect of morality. . . .
We have seen the ethical ideals of different times and places to be highly colored by custom and by historical, economic, and intellectual surroundings, perhaps by natural environment even, although everywhere resting on the same basis and actuated by the same principles. There is also much variety in the terminology of the explanations given of morality. Of course religion has been particularly active here. In ancient Palestine Jehovah, the mountain, and the stone tablets were brought forward as a convincing argument, just as in native California Chungichnish with his associates the raven and the rattlesnake furnished the reason why we should be good rather than bad. Even when the ritualistic apparatus is passed by, or does not exist, there is a divergence of explanation, for a "child of nature" has neither the ideas nor the language of a dialectic thinker. And yet, after all, [Immanuel Kant,] the greatest philosopher since the Greeks, fell back, in the search for a basis of ethics, upon the "categorical imperative"; and it is doubtful whether in this conception, however satisfying it may be to our genuine and more advanced intellectual needs, he essentially transcended the American Indian's answer, to the question why a certain action is objectionable: "because it is bad." . . .
Nothing is more erroneous than the wide-spread idea and oft-repeated statement that the savage is only a child. In knowledge, to a certain extent in intellect even, he may not rank above the children of civilization; but in character, in emotions, and in morals, he is essentially and absolutely a man. . . . Men are men and essentially alike wherever born and however reared, and breadth of view uninfluenced by doctrinal purpose has always subscribed to this opinion. There is every reason to believe, accordingly, that uncivilized and civilized men practice what they respectively regard as virtue, to the same degree.
In short, the moral element in humanity is basically instinctive. If we believe in evolution from animals, we must find the source of human morality, as of human senses and emotions, in animal life. Being an inherent element of the human mind, it is psychologically unexplainable and finds its justification only in itself. As an integral constituent of man, it is common to all races in identical or virtually identical form. Variations in moral ideas are reflections of changes in civilization. As civilization, however, is something outside of race and independent of the human body; and as it affects only the body of knowledge possessed by a people and the actions connected with this knowledge, the principles of morality cannot be influenced by civilization, however the concrete expression of these principles may vary in their adaptation to particular forms of civilization. The apparent difference between the morality of savages and ourselves is therefore not really in the morality but in the civilization.
About the Author
Alfred L. Kroeber Alfred L. Kroeber was a major 20th-century U.S. anthropologist who gained particular fame for studying the language and customs of the Yahi people of California with the group's last surviving member, Ishi. An important anthropological researcher, theorist, and author, Kroeber influenced a generation of anthropologists from his post at the University of California and through his many published works. Among his most important contributions to the field are The Religion of the Indians of California (1907), Anthropology (1923), Handbook of the Indians of California (1925), Configurations of Culture Growth (1944), The Nature of Culture (1952), and Style and Civilizations (1957).
MLA Citation
"International Activity: Is Our Understanding of the World Dependent on Our Culture?" World Geography: Understanding a Changing World, ABC-CLIO, 2021, worldgeography.abc- clio.com/Support/InvestigateActivity/1346356. Accessed 4 Oct. 2021.
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This content may be used for non-commercial, educational purposes only. https://worldgeography.abc-clio.com/Support/InvestigateActivity/1346356 Cultural Relativism
Activity
Inquiry Question Is our understanding of the world dependent on our culture?
The image at right shows Franz Boas, proponent of the idea of cultural relativism, demonstrating a ritual of the Hamatsa group of Canada's Kwakiutl people. Since European explorers first began to travel the wider world and came into contact with peoples and places with which they were wholly unfamiliar, scholars have attempted to make sense of the diversity of human society and activity. European traditions of catholicity—that some ideas, particularly religious ones, were universally applicable— led in part to colonial attempts to stamp out native cultures and assimilate all the people of the world into European belief systems. Many believed that non-European cultures were "primitive" or "backward" in their development, with Western civilization held up as the highest form of society and culture and the arbiter of what was true and right. As science came to explain more of the physical world, scholars sought to use scientific methods to study humans and their societies, often in an effort to develop rules for cultural evolution and to determine the "progress" of various groups.
Beginning in the late 1800s, however, a generation of anthropologists began to take a different view. This new generation, led by the groundbreaking ethnologist and polymath Boas, eschewed the ends of science and took a view previously confined to philosophy—that the subjective experiences of humans were dependent at least in part, if not entirely, upon their cultural environment. In an 1887 article on museums, Boas dropped a bombshell that would forever alter antropological study when he wrote about "the dissemination of the fact that civilization is not something absolute, but that it is relative, and that our ideas and conceptions are true only so far as our civilization goes." The field of cultural anthropology, the study of diverse cultures and worldviews on their own terms, developed from this seed, and today students the world over face the same question that Boas once asked himself: Is our understanding of the world around us dependent on our culture?
Background Information
Social Sciences The roots of the modern discipline of anthropology lie in the latter half of the 19th century, a time when the methods and aims of science were being applied to a diversity of subjects in an effort to establish the degree of certitude afforded to natural sciences like physics, biology, and chemistry. Essentially, it was thought that if scientific advances in physics could lead to engineering feats like suspension bridges and skyscrapers, then similar advances in the understanding of the human world should lead to more appropriate policies concerning society, government, and human endeavors. This followed the mid-19th century development of positivism—a term popularized by French philosopher and pioneering sociologist Auguste Comte—and "social sciences" began to emerge and grow in popularity. Earlier descriptions of non-Western peoples by travelers, missionaries, explorers, and scholars tended to be deductive—that is, conclusions were drawn logically by comparing particular evidence with one's existing assumptions, making judgments about specific things depending on larger preexisting judgments about their nature and place. In the positivist tradition of the social sciences, however, the first formal anthropologists hoped to use inductive reasoning—whereby conclusions are based upon observations of specific instances that may produce patterns that can be used to formulate more general rules—to uncover universal laws about societies and the human condition. Among the social sciences, the discipline of anthropology began to emerge as a positivist "study of man," particularly in the United Kingdom and United States.
Anthropologists of the late 19th and early 20th centuries undertook efforts to study, measure, document, and compare the various people of the world. Many early efforts were concerned primarily with laying the foundations for inductive study by performing fieldwork among various peoples around the world who were not well understood by Western scholars, gathering all sorts of data, from physical measurements of body parts to descriptions of their dress, customs, and living arrangements. Sociologists of the time, including important thinkers like émile Durkheim and Herbert Spencer, often used such data to explain and classify human societies based upon ideas from biology, describing them as repeating the sorts of functions, composition, and evolution observed in the natural world. At the same time, other scholars used the data to develop theories of societal evolution based upon the influential ideas of Charles Darwin, in some cases promoting a scientific racism that held physical and cultural differences to indicate the natural inferiority of certain groups. These ideas influenced, and were at times furthered by, many anthropologists of the era. Anthropology was thus intimately tied to both sociology and the natural sciences, and adopted elements of both; in fact, there was so much overlap that it is often difficult to differentiate them.
Building upon a general notion of societal evolution that had been popular since the 18th century and was bolstered by analogy to Darwinian evolution, it became increasingly fashionable to hold that human societies progress through a series of stages, from simple to complex, according to a variety of factors. Among the implications of this theory was that smaller, more exotic societies were evolutionarily backward or primitive and that Western society was superior in its more highly evolved complexities; in a sense, it was held that the relationship between the society and lifestyle of a British industrialist and that of a Papuan tribesman was akin to that between a human and a chimpanzee (or perhaps Cro Magnon man and Australopithecus). Armed with such conceptions, colonialism became a noble undertaking—the "White Man's Burden," as famously put by British author Rudyard Kipling in his 1899 poem by the same name— whereby Europeans "bettered" the "primitive" peoples of the world by introducing them to European ways and ideas. Such undertakings were further fueled by scientific racism sometimes based upon anthropologists' data.
Yet anthropological fieldwork also led to the evolution of the idea of culture. Once defined as the trappings of high civilization and set apart as a distinguishing factor between highly evolved societies and primitive ones, culture came to be defined more broadly by anthropologists as the collection of all customs and beliefs held by a particular group. U.S. anthropologist Lewis Henry Morgan and his British colleague Edward Burnett Tylor utilized this broader idea of culture to put forward theories of societal and cultural evolution, incorporating technology, religion, law, art, medical practices, and many other customs into their analyses. What emerged was a concept of culture as an all-encompassing summary of the many facets of life within a group. Various cultures could be compared, and many early anthropologists did just that, fashioning a comparative method that led rather directly to ideas of cultural evolution and progress. It was thought that anthropologists and sociologists could discover laws about societies and their evolution by comparing cultural data from groups across the world and finding patterns that would indicate the trajectory of that evolution.
The German-American anthropologist Franz Boas was among the first to openly question the comparative method. Boas believed that cultures were not necessarily comparable; in a sense, he found that comparing two unrelated cultures was like comparing two unrelated fruits—one can learn little about pineapples by examining apples, and it would be wrong to assume that an apple is just a primitive pineapple because the pineapple is larger and more apparently complex. Instead of the comparative method, Boas preferred a method, similar to that popular among historians at the time, that prioritized unbiased description placed within its proper context and discarded the need for laws governing general societal or cultural evolution. Eventually, Boas came to espouse an idea now known as cultural relativism, the cornerstone of which was the concept that a culture must be understood on its own terms, not as part of a larger theory or in relation to another culture. In order to perform ethnographic fieldwork properly, it was thus necessary for anthropologists to immerse themselves as much as possible in the culture they were studying. In this tradition, fieldwork was to be less like scientific labwork and more like method acting.
Boas proved to be enormously influential in the United States, and an entire generation of American anthropologists studied under him or one of his early protégés; he directly taught such important figures as Alfred Kroeber, Robert Lowie, Edward Sapir, Ruth Benedict, and Margaret Mead. Since this was also the formative period for many U.S. universities, these disciples founded and populated anthropology programs throughout the country and institutionalized their methods. Other anthropologists—notably the Englishman A.R. Radcliffe-Brown— attempted to salvage the scientific and comparative aspects of anthropology by focusing on analyses and taxonomies of cultural systems, but by the 1960s the original positivist ideal was maligned by most anthropologists. Today, the methods of cultural anthropology (or social anthropology in the United Kingdom) are still primarily based upon ideas of cultural relativism, and it is commonly taught that unbiased, context-sensitive work should be at the heart of anthropological endeavors. Each society presents its own subject matter, to be examined and conveyed to members of other societies and cultural groups, and the popularization of both the methods and results of anthropological work have allowed for a wider understanding of the true diversity of humankind.
Evan Brown
MLA Citation: Brown, Evan. "Social Sciences." World Geography: Understanding a Changing World, ABC-CLIO, 2021, worldgeography.abc-clio.com/Search/Display/1346358. Accessed 4 Oct. 2021. Source
Commentary
Excerpt from "The Mind of Primitive Man" (1901)
The activities of the mind manifest themselves in thoughts and actions, and exhibit an infinite variety of form among the peoples of the world. In order to understand these clearly, the student must endeavor to divest himself entirely of opinions and emotions based upon the peculiar social environment into which he is born. He must adapt his own mind, so far as feasible, to that of the people whom he is studying. The more successful he is in freeing himself from the bias based on the group of ideas that constitute the civilization in which he lives, the more successful he will be in interpreting the beliefs and actions of man. He must follow lines of thought that are new to him. He must participate in new emotions, and understand how, under unwonted conditions, both lead to actions. Beliefs, customs, and the response of the individual to the events of daily life, give us ample opportunity to observe the manifestations of the mind of man under varying conditions. . . .
In our own community a mass of observations and of thoughts is transmitted to the child. These thoughts are the result of careful observation and speculation of our present and of past generations; but they are transmitted to most individuals as traditional matter, much the same as folklore. The child associates new perceptions with this whole mass of traditional material, and interprets his observations by its means. I believe it is a mistake to assume that the interpretation made by each civilized individual is a complete logical process. We associate a phenomenon with a number of known facts, the interpretations of which are assumed as known, and we are satisfied with the reduction of a new fact to these previously known facts. For instance, if the average individual hears of the explosion of a previously unknown chemical, he is satisfied to reason that certain materials are known to have the property of exploding under proper conditions, and that consequently the unknown substance has the same quality. . . .
The instruction given to the child of primitive man is not based on centuries of experimentation, but consists of the crude experience of generations. When a new experience enters the mind of primitive man, the same process which we observe among civilized man brings about an entirely different series of associations, and therefore results in a different type of explanation. A sudden explosion will associate itself in his mind, perhaps, with tales which he has heard in regard to the mythical history of the world, and consequently will be accompanied by superstitious fear. When we recognize that, neither among civilized man nor among primitive man, the average individual carries to completion the attempt at causal explanation of phenomena, but carries it only so far as to amalgamate it with other previously known facts, we recognize that the result of the whole process depends entirely upon the character of the traditional material: herein lies the immense importance of folklore in determining the mode of thought. Herein lies particularly the enormous influence of current philosophic opinion upon the masses of the people, and herein lies the influence of the dominant scientific theory upon the character of scientific work.
It would be in vain to try to understand the development of modern science without an intelligent understanding of modern philosophy; it would be in vain to try to understand the history of medieval science without an intelligent knowledge of medieval theology; and so it is in vain to try to understand primitive science without an intelligent knowledge of primitive mythology. Mythology, theology and philosophy are different terms for the same influences which shape the current of human thought, and which determine the character of the attempts of man to explain the phenomena of nature. To primitive man—who has been taught to consider the heavenly orbs as animate beings, who sees in every animal a being more powerful than man, to whom the mountains, trees and stones are endowed with life—explanations of phenomena will suggest themselves entirely different from those to which we are accustomed, since we base our conclusions upon the existence of matter and force as bringing about the observed results. If we do not consider it possible to explain the whole range of phenomena as the result of matter and force alone, all our explanations of natural phenomena must take a different aspect.
In scientific inquiries we should always be clear in our own minds of the fact that we do not carry the analysis of any given phenomenon to completion; but that we always embody a number of hypotheses and theories in our explanations. In fact, if we were to do so, progress would hardly become possible, because every phenomenon would require an endless amount of time for thorough treatment. We are only too apt, however, to forget entirely the general, and, for most of us, purely traditional, theoretical basis which is the foundation of our reasoning, and to assume that the result of our reasoning is absolute truth. . . .
The influence of traditional material upon the life of man is not restricted to his thoughts, but manifests itself no less in his activities. . . . When we consider, for instance, the whole range of our daily life, we notice how strictly we are dependent upon tradition that can not be accounted for by any logical reasoning. We eat our three meals every day, and feel unhappy if we have to forego one of them. There is no physiological reason which demands three meals a day, and we find that many people are satisfied with two meals, while others enjoy four or even more. The range of animals and plants which we utilize for food is limited, and we have a decided aversion against eating dogs, or horses, or cats. There is certainly no objective reason for such aversion, since a great many people consider dogs and horses as dainties. . . . The whole range of actions that are considered as proper and improper can not be explained by any logical reason, but are almost all entirely due to custom; that is to say, they are purely traditional. This is even true of customs which excite strong emotions, as, for instance, those produced by infractions of modesty. . . .
No action can find the approval of a people which is fundamentally opposed to its customs and traditions. Among ourselves it is considered proper and a matter of course to treat the old with respect, for children to look after the welfare of their aged parents; and not to do so would be considered base ingratitude. Among the Eskimo we find an entirely different standard. It is required of children to kill their parents when they have become so old as to be helpless and no longer of any use to the family or to the community. It would be considered a breach of filial duty not to kill the aged parent. Revolting though this custom may seem to us, it is founded on an ethical law of the Eskimo, which rests on the whole mass of traditional lore and custom. . . .
It is somewhat difficult for us to recognize that the value which we attribute to our own civilization is due to the fact that we participate in this civilization, and that it has been controlling all our actions since the time of our birth; but it is certainly conceivable that there may be other civilizations, based perhaps on different traditions and on a different equilibrium of emotion and reason which are of no less value than ours, although it may be impossible for us to appreciate their values without having grown up under their influence.
About the Author
Franz Boas Franz Boas was a leading anthropologist in the United States during the late 19th and early 20th centuries. Sometimes referred to as the "father of American anthropology," Boas was among the most influential theorists, field researchers, and instructors of his era. His most important works include "The Limitations of the Comparative Method of Anthropology" (1896), The Mind of Primitive Man (in book form, as opposed to the earlier article by the same name; 1911), "Changes in the Bodily Form of the Descendants of Immigrants" (1912), "Mythology and Folktales of the North American Indians" (1914), Primitive Art (1927), and Race, Language, and Culture (1940).
Source
Commentary
Excerpt from Folkways (1906)
The folkways are the "right" ways to satisfy all interests, because they are traditional, and exist in fact. They extend over the whole of life. There is a right way to catch game, to win a wife, to make one's self appear, to cure disease, to honor ghosts, to treat comrades or strangers, to behave when a child is born, on the warpath, in council, and so on in all cases which can arise. . . . The "right" way is the way which the ancestors used and which has been handed down. The tradition is its own warrant. It is not held subject to verification by experience. The notion of right is in the folkways. It is not outside of them, of independent origin, and brought to them to test them. In the folkways, whatever is, is right. . . . "Rights" are the rules of mutual give and take in the competition of life which are imposed on comrades in the in-group, in order that the peace may prevail there which is essential to the group strength. Therefore rights can never be "natural" or "God-given," or absolute in any sense. The morality of a group at a time is the sum of the taboos and prescriptions in the folkways by which right conduct is defined. Therefore morals can never be intuitive. They are historical, institutional, and empirical.
World philosophy, life policy, right, rights, and morality are all products of the folkways. . . . The faith in the world philosophy drew lines outside of which the folkways must not go. Crude and vague notions of societal welfare were formed from the notion of pleasing the ghosts, and from such notions of expediency as the opinion that, if there were not children enough, there would not be warriors enough, or that, if there were too many children, the food supply would not be adequate. The notion of welfare was an inference and resultant from these mystic and utilitarian generalizations.
When the elements of truth and right are developed into doctrines of welfare, the folkways are raised to another plane. They then become capable of producing inferences, developing into new forms, and extending their constructive influence over men and society. Then we call them the mores. The mores are the folkways, including the philosophical and ethical generalizations as to societal welfare which are suggested by them, and inherent in them, as they grow. . . .
The mores come down to us from the past. Each individual is born into them as he is born into the atmosphere, and he does not reflect on them, or criticise them any more than a baby analyzes the atmosphere before he begins to breathe it. Each one is subjected to the influence of the mores, and formed by them, before he is capable of reasoning about them. . . . Nothing can ever change them but the unconscious and imperceptible movement of the mores. Religion was originally a matter of the mores. It became a societal institution and a function of the state. It has now to a great extent been put back into the mores. Since laws with penalties to enforce religious creeds or practices have gone out of use any one may think and act as he pleases about religion. . . . Democracy is in our American mores. It is a product of our physical and economic conditions. It is impossible to discuss or criticise it. It is glorified for popularity, and is a subject of dithyrambic rhetoric. No one treats it with complete candor and sincerity. No one dares to analyze it as he would aristocracy or autocracy. He would get no hearing and would only incur abuse. . . . The mores contain the norm by which, if we should discuss the mores, we should have to judge the mores. We learn the mores as unconsciously as we learn to walk and eat and breathe. The masses never learn how we walk, and eat, and breathe, and they never know any reason why the mores are what they are. The justification of them is that when we wake to consciousness of life we find them facts which already hold us in the bonds of tradition, custom, and habit. The mores contain embodied in them notions, doctrines, and maxims, but they are facts. They are in the present tense. They have nothing to do with what ought to be, will be, may be, or once was, if it is not now. . . .
A society does not record its mores in its annals, because they are to it unnoticed and unconscious. When we try to learn the mores of any age or people we have to seek our information in incidental references, allusions, observations of travelers, etc. Generally works of fiction, drama, etc., give us more information about the mores than historical records. . . . The mores are not recorded for the same reason that meals, going to bed, sunrise, etc., are not recorded, unless the regular course of things is broken.
We see that we must conceive of the mores as a vast system of usages, covering the whole of life, and serving all its interests; also containing in themselves their own justification by tradition and use and wont, and approved by mystic sanctions until, by rational reflection, they develop their own philosophical and ethical generalizations, which are elevated into "principles" of truth and right. They coerce and restrict the newborn generation. They do not stimulate to thought, but the contrary. The thinking is already done and is embodied in the mores. They never contain any provision for their own amendment. They are not questions, but answers, to the problem of life. They present themselves as final and unchangeable, because they present answers which are offered as "the truth." . . .
All the groups whose mores we consider far inferior to our own are quite as well satisfied with theirs as we are with ours. The goodness or badness of mores consists entirely in their adjustment to the life conditions and the interests of the time and place. Therefore it is a sign of ease and welfare when no thought is given to the mores, but all cooperate in them instinctively. . . .
At every turn we find new evidence that the mores can make anything right. What they do is that they cover a usage in dress, language, behavior, manners, etc., with the mantle of current custom, and give it regulation and limits within which it becomes unquestionable. The limit is generally a limit of toleration. . . . In regard to all social customs, the mores sanction them by defining them and giving them form. Such regulated customs are etiquette. The regulation by the mores always gives order and form, and thus surrounds life with limits within which we may and beyond which we may not pursue our interests (e.g., property and marriage). . . . The mores set the limits or define the disapproval. . . .
It cannot be doubted that, at any time, all ethical judgments are made through the atmosphere of the mores of the time. It is they which tell us what is right. It is only by high mental discipline that we can be trained to rise above that atmosphere and form rational judgments on current cases. This mental independence and ethical power are the highest products of education. They are also perilous. Our worst cranks are those who get the independence and power, but cannot stand alone and form correct judgments outside of the mores of the time and place. It must be remembered that the mores sometimes becloud the judgment, but they more often guide it.
About the Author
WIlliam Graham Sumner William Graham Sumner was an influential historian, economist, social scientist, critic, and teacher. Though often known primarily for his social Darwinist and free-market economic theories, he also wrote on a variety of other subjects, including cultural development and its effect on human societies. Among his many works are A History of American Currency (1874), What Social Classes Owe Each Other (1883), Protectionism (1885), The Financier and Finances of the American Revolution (1891), A History of Banking in All the Leading Nations (1896), Folkways (1906), and The Science of Society (1927).
Source
Commentary
Excerpt from "The Morals of Uncivilized People" (1910)
[H]owever great or small their power of reasoning, it is conceded that the mental endowment of all living beings lower than man is essentially if not altogether instinctive. . . . As there is nothing homologous to the rudest culture or civilization among even the highest animals, custom cannot materially influence them, and their equivalent of our morality must be entirely instinctive.
But when humanity is considered, the alleged distinction between the uncivilized and civilized races seems untrue. That any people, or any person even, has ever really regulated conduct by ideas or reason, is a delusion. The delusion is a common one because it is pleasing to flatter ourselves that our acts spring from purely rational motives. In fact, and of course, all real action precedes and determines intellectual reasoning, which, being analytical, cannot but be ex post facto [after the fact] and secondary. If this is true of ourselves, it obviously applies to people of less civilization, and must be a basic trait of all mankind, inherent in the constitution of human nature. . . .
There can be no doubt that the essential moral ideas of man spring from instinct. The repugnance toward murder, appropriation of the possessions of others, treachery, and want of hospitality, is based as little on considerations of social advantage or logical deductions as the sentiments are common to all races and times. The actions that are naturally the most abhorrent to everyone, such as cannibalism, incest, and lack of parental or filial devotion, are so thoroughly instinctive that these crimes have hardly had to be dealt with by most people, and their rarity and want of infectiousness are recognized in the frequent failure of creeds and codes to provide against them. Custom has further strengthened and shaped the inborn resentment we cherish against such actions, and custom has been variously modified by historical surroundings; but the source of the repugnance is purely unreasoning instinct. . . .
It is clear how these instincts could have arisen. In the animal world, they are, in the main, a necessity. The species that consumes itself, habitually inbreeds, or neglects its offspring, perishes. The unreasoningPage 10 of 15 conditions of nature therefore have impressed strong aversions to such practices, or have suppressed the instincts toward them, in virtually all higher animals. From our animal ancestors we no doubt derive the same feelings; but as we are a "political animal," whose life is influenced by civilizational surroundings, and who is therefore apparently exempt from the operation of the laws of biological evolution, these inherited instincts may be entirely superfluous and useless to us. That in spite of this superfluity all men cling to them most tenaciously, reveals them to be only part of our blind natal make-up, as much so as the impulse that leads the dog to sacrifice himself for his master, the ant for her hill, the tigress for her young, and the salmon for his unborn progeny.
However, since man is constituted as a cultural being, his instincts must take shape according to his civilization. Hence there exist, in distant times and places, wide divergences or even contradictions of moral teaching, though the moral impulses are always the same.
To kill a stranger is often no crime, where society is organized on a restricted local basis, because the stranger is an enemy. Yet people who proclaim and practice this doctrine are no more given to murder among themselves than we are who justify only the shooting of an admitted national foe. The horizon is different in the two cases, the mental and social environments diverse, the scale of judgment various; but the principles according to which men determine whether a killing is a dastardly murder or an act of patriotic merit, are identical.
In the same way, the definitions of different nations as to what constitutes incest are as variable as their condemnation of the crime is universal. Some modern civilized people are shocked at marriage between uncle and niece, more tolerate cousin-marriage, but nearly all American Indians revolt at both. Until the most recent years Englishmen broke the law of their land if a woman succeeded her dead sister as wife; among innumerable nations the dead husband's brother feels it his duty to wed his sister-in-law. There are Australian tribes today among whom the woman that it is a man's duty to marry is his father's sister's daughter, while wedlock with the equivalent cousin through his mother's sister is an enormity and a crime.
In short, among all men there is a recognition of certain groups within which murder, theft, and marriage are wrong. The extent and composition of the groups vary tremendously from people to people, but this variation is an accident of political or intellectual development, and in itself no index or effect of morality. . . .
We have seen the ethical ideals of different times and places to be highly colored by custom and by historical, economic, and intellectual surroundings, perhaps by natural environment even, although everywhere resting on the same basis and actuated by the same principles. There is also much variety in the terminology of the explanations given of morality. Of course religion has been particularly active here. In ancient Palestine Jehovah, the mountain, and the stone tablets were brought forward as a convincing argument, just as in native California Chungichnish with his associates the raven and the rattlesnake furnished the reason why we should be good rather than bad. Even when the ritualistic apparatus is passed by, or does not exist, there is a divergence of explanation, for a "child of nature" has neither the ideas nor the language of a dialectic thinker. And yet, after all, [Immanuel Kant,] the greatest philosopher since the Greeks, fell back, in the search for a basis of ethics, upon the "categorical imperative"; and it is doubtful whether in this conception, however satisfying it may be to our genuine and more advanced intellectual needs, he essentially transcended the American Indian's answer, to the question why a certain action is objectionable: "because it is bad." . . .
Nothing is more erroneous than the wide-spread idea and oft-repeated statement that the savage is only a child. In knowledge, to a certain extent in intellect even, he may not rank above the children of civilization; but in character, in emotions, and in morals, he is essentially and absolutely a man. . . . Men are men and essentially alike wherever born and however reared, and breadth of view uninfluenced by doctrinal purpose has always subscribed to this opinion. There is every reason to believe, accordingly, that uncivilized and civilized men practice what they respectively regard as virtue, to the same degree.
In short, the moral element in humanity is basically instinctive. If we believe in evolution from animals, we must find the source of human morality, as of human senses and emotions, in animal life. Being an inherent element of the human mind, it is psychologically unexplainable and finds its justification only in itself. As an integral constituent of man, it is common to all races in identical or virtually identical form. Variations in moral ideas are reflections of changes in civilization. As civilization, however, is something outside of race and independent of the human body; and as it affects only the body of knowledge possessed by a people and the actions connected with this knowledge, the principles of morality cannot be influenced by civilization, however the concrete expression of these principles may vary in their adaptation to particular forms of civilization. The apparent difference between the morality of savages and ourselves is therefore not really in the morality but in the civilization.
About the Author
Alfred L. Kroeber Alfred L. Kroeber was a major 20th-century U.S. anthropologist who gained particular fame for studying the language and customs of the Yahi people of California with the group's last surviving member, Ishi. An important anthropological researcher, theorist, and author, Kroeber influenced a generation of anthropologists from his post at the University of California and through his many published works. Among his most important contributions to the field are The Religion of the Indians of California (1907), Anthropology (1923), Handbook of the Indians of California (1925), Configurations of Culture Growth (1944), The Nature of Culture (1952), and Style and Civilizations (1957).
MLA Citation
"International Activity: Is Our Understanding of the World Dependent on Our Culture?" World Geography: Understanding a Changing World, ABC-CLIO, 2021, worldgeography.abc- clio.com/Support/InvestigateActivity/1346356. Accessed 4 Oct. 2021.
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This content may be used for non-commercial, educational purposes only. https://worldgeography.abc-clio.com/Support/InvestigateActivity/1346356 Cultural Relativism
Activity
Inquiry Question Is our understanding of the world dependent on our culture?
The image at right shows Franz Boas, proponent of the idea of cultural relativism, demonstrating a ritual of the Hamatsa group of Canada's Kwakiutl people. Since European explorers first began to travel the wider world and came into contact with peoples and places with which they were wholly unfamiliar, scholars have attempted to make sense of the diversity of human society and activity. European traditions of catholicity—that some ideas, particularly religious ones, were universally applicable— led in part to colonial attempts to stamp out native cultures and assimilate all the people of the world into European belief systems. Many believed that non-European cultures were "primitive" or "backward" in their development, with Western civilization held up as the highest form of society and culture and the arbiter of what was true and right. As science came to explain more of the physical world, scholars sought to use scientific methods to study humans and their societies, often in an effort to develop rules for cultural evolution and to determine the "progress" of various groups.
Beginning in the late 1800s, however, a generation of anthropologists began to take a different view. This new generation, led by the groundbreaking ethnologist and polymath Boas, eschewed the ends of science and took a view previously confined to philosophy—that the subjective experiences of humans were dependent at least in part, if not entirely, upon their cultural environment. In an 1887 article on museums, Boas dropped a bombshell that would forever alter antropological study when he wrote about "the dissemination of the fact that civilization is not something absolute, but that it is relative, and that our ideas and conceptions are true only so far as our civilization goes." The field of cultural anthropology, the study of diverse cultures and worldviews on their own terms, developed from this seed, and today students the world over face the same question that Boas once asked himself: Is our understanding of the world around us dependent on our culture?
Background Information
Social Sciences The roots of the modern discipline of anthropology lie in the latter half of the 19th century, a time when the methods and aims of science were being applied to a diversity of subjects in an effort to establish the degree of certitude afforded to natural sciences like physics, biology, and chemistry. Essentially, it was thought that if scientific advances in physics could lead to engineering feats like suspension bridges and skyscrapers, then similar advances in the understanding of the human world should lead to more appropriate policies concerning society, government, and human endeavors. This followed the mid-19th century development of positivism—a term popularized by French philosopher and pioneering sociologist Auguste Comte—and "social sciences" began to emerge and grow in popularity. Earlier descriptions of non-Western peoples by travelers, missionaries, explorers, and scholars tended to be deductive—that is, conclusions were drawn logically by comparing particular evidence with one's existing assumptions, making judgments about specific things depending on larger preexisting judgments about their nature and place. In the positivist tradition of the social sciences, however, the first formal anthropologists hoped to use inductive reasoning—whereby conclusions are based upon observations of specific instances that may produce patterns that can be used to formulate more general rules—to uncover universal laws about societies and the human condition. Among the social sciences, the discipline of anthropology began to emerge as a positivist "study of man," particularly in the United Kingdom and United States.
Anthropologists of the late 19th and early 20th centuries undertook efforts to study, measure, document, and compare the various people of the world. Many early efforts were concerned primarily with laying the foundations for inductive study by performing fieldwork among various peoples around the world who were not well understood by Western scholars, gathering all sorts of data, from physical measurements of body parts to descriptions of their dress, customs, and living arrangements. Sociologists of the time, including important thinkers like émile Durkheim and Herbert Spencer, often used such data to explain and classify human societies based upon ideas from biology, describing them as repeating the sorts of functions, composition, and evolution observed in the natural world. At the same time, other scholars used the data to develop theories of societal evolution based upon the influential ideas of Charles Darwin, in some cases promoting a scientific racism that held physical and cultural differences to indicate the natural inferiority of certain groups. These ideas influenced, and were at times furthered by, many anthropologists of the era. Anthropology was thus intimately tied to both sociology and the natural sciences, and adopted elements of both; in fact, there was so much overlap that it is often difficult to differentiate them.
Building upon a general notion of societal evolution that had been popular since the 18th century and was bolstered by analogy to Darwinian evolution, it became increasingly fashionable to hold that human societies progress through a series of stages, from simple to complex, according to a variety of factors. Among the implications of this theory was that smaller, more exotic societies were evolutionarily backward or primitive and that Western society was superior in its more highly evolved complexities; in a sense, it was held that the relationship between the society and lifestyle of a British industrialist and that of a Papuan tribesman was akin to that between a human and a chimpanzee (or perhaps Cro Magnon man and Australopithecus). Armed with such conceptions, colonialism became a noble undertaking—the "White Man's Burden," as famously put by British author Rudyard Kipling in his 1899 poem by the same name— whereby Europeans "bettered" the "primitive" peoples of the world by introducing them to European ways and ideas. Such undertakings were further fueled by scientific racism sometimes based upon anthropologists' data.
Yet anthropological fieldwork also led to the evolution of the idea of culture. Once defined as the trappings of high civilization and set apart as a distinguishing factor between highly evolved societies and primitive ones, culture came to be defined more broadly by anthropologists as the collection of all customs and beliefs held by a particular group. U.S. anthropologist Lewis Henry Morgan and his British colleague Edward Burnett Tylor utilized this broader idea of culture to put forward theories of societal and cultural evolution, incorporating technology, religion, law, art, medical practices, and many other customs into their analyses. What emerged was a concept of culture as an all-encompassing summary of the many facets of life within a group. Various cultures could be compared, and many early anthropologists did just that, fashioning a comparative method that led rather directly to ideas of cultural evolution and progress. It was thought that anthropologists and sociologists could discover laws about societies and their evolution by comparing cultural data from groups across the world and finding patterns that would indicate the trajectory of that evolution.
The German-American anthropologist Franz Boas was among the first to openly question the comparative method. Boas believed that cultures were not necessarily comparable; in a sense, he found that comparing two unrelated cultures was like comparing two unrelated fruits—one can learn little about pineapples by examining apples, and it would be wrong to assume that an apple is just a primitive pineapple because the pineapple is larger and more apparently complex. Instead of the comparative method, Boas preferred a method, similar to that popular among historians at the time, that prioritized unbiased description placed within its proper context and discarded the need for laws governing general societal or cultural evolution. Eventually, Boas came to espouse an idea now known as cultural relativism, the cornerstone of which was the concept that a culture must be understood on its own terms, not as part of a larger theory or in relation to another culture. In order to perform ethnographic fieldwork properly, it was thus necessary for anthropologists to immerse themselves as much as possible in the culture they were studying. In this tradition, fieldwork was to be less like scientific labwork and more like method acting.
Boas proved to be enormously influential in the United States, and an entire generation of American anthropologists studied under him or one of his early protégés; he directly taught such important figures as Alfred Kroeber, Robert Lowie, Edward Sapir, Ruth Benedict, and Margaret Mead. Since this was also the formative period for many U.S. universities, these disciples founded and populated anthropology programs throughout the country and institutionalized their methods. Other anthropologists—notably the Englishman A.R. Radcliffe-Brown— attempted to salvage the scientific and comparative aspects of anthropology by focusing on analyses and taxonomies of cultural systems, but by the 1960s the original positivist ideal was maligned by most anthropologists. Today, the methods of cultural anthropology (or social anthropology in the United Kingdom) are still primarily based upon ideas of cultural relativism, and it is commonly taught that unbiased, context-sensitive work should be at the heart of anthropological endeavors. Each society presents its own subject matter, to be examined and conveyed to members of other societies and cultural groups, and the popularization of both the methods and results of anthropological work have allowed for a wider understanding of the true diversity of humankind.
Evan Brown
MLA Citation: Brown, Evan. "Social Sciences." World Geography: Understanding a Changing World, ABC-CLIO, 2021, worldgeography.abc-clio.com/Search/Display/1346358. Accessed 4 Oct. 2021. Source
Commentary
Excerpt from "The Mind of Primitive Man" (1901)
The activities of the mind manifest themselves in thoughts and actions, and exhibit an infinite variety of form among the peoples of the world. In order to understand these clearly, the student must endeavor to divest himself entirely of opinions and emotions based upon the peculiar social environment into which he is born. He must adapt his own mind, so far as feasible, to that of the people whom he is studying. The more successful he is in freeing himself from the bias based on the group of ideas that constitute the civilization in which he lives, the more successful he will be in interpreting the beliefs and actions of man. He must follow lines of thought that are new to him. He must participate in new emotions, and understand how, under unwonted conditions, both lead to actions. Beliefs, customs, and the response of the individual to the events of daily life, give us ample opportunity to observe the manifestations of the mind of man under varying conditions. . . .
In our own community a mass of observations and of thoughts is transmitted to the child. These thoughts are the result of careful observation and speculation of our present and of past generations; but they are transmitted to most individuals as traditional matter, much the same as folklore. The child associates new perceptions with this whole mass of traditional material, and interprets his observations by its means. I believe it is a mistake to assume that the interpretation made by each civilized individual is a complete logical process. We associate a phenomenon with a number of known facts, the interpretations of which are assumed as known, and we are satisfied with the reduction of a new fact to these previously known facts. For instance, if the average individual hears of the explosion of a previously unknown chemical, he is satisfied to reason that certain materials are known to have the property of exploding under proper conditions, and that consequently the unknown substance has the same quality. . . .
The instruction given to the child of primitive man is not based on centuries of experimentation, but consists of the crude experience of generations. When a new experience enters the mind of primitive man, the same process which we observe among civilized man brings about an entirely different series of associations, and therefore results in a different type of explanation. A sudden explosion will associate itself in his mind, perhaps, with tales which he has heard in regard to the mythical history of the world, and consequently will be accompanied by superstitious fear. When we recognize that, neither among civilized man nor among primitive man, the average individual carries to completion the attempt at causal explanation of phenomena, but carries it only so far as to amalgamate it with other previously known facts, we recognize that the result of the whole process depends entirely upon the character of the traditional material: herein lies the immense importance of folklore in determining the mode of thought. Herein lies particularly the enormous influence of current philosophic opinion upon the masses of the people, and herein lies the influence of the dominant scientific theory upon the character of scientific work.
It would be in vain to try to understand the development of modern science without an intelligent understanding of modern philosophy; it would be in vain to try to understand the history of medieval science without an intelligent knowledge of medieval theology; and so it is in vain to try to understand primitive science without an intelligent knowledge of primitive mythology. Mythology, theology and philosophy are different terms for the same influences which shape the current of human thought, and which determine the character of the attempts of man to explain the phenomena of nature. To primitive man—who has been taught to consider the heavenly orbs as animate beings, who sees in every animal a being more powerful than man, to whom the mountains, trees and stones are endowed with life—explanations of phenomena will suggest themselves entirely different from those to which we are accustomed, since we base our conclusions upon the existence of matter and force as bringing about the observed results. If we do not consider it possible to explain the whole range of phenomena as the result of matter and force alone, all our explanations of natural phenomena must take a different aspect.
In scientific inquiries we should always be clear in our own minds of the fact that we do not carry the analysis of any given phenomenon to completion; but that we always embody a number of hypotheses and theories in our explanations. In fact, if we were to do so, progress would hardly become possible, because every phenomenon would require an endless amount of time for thorough treatment. We are only too apt, however, to forget entirely the general, and, for most of us, purely traditional, theoretical basis which is the foundation of our reasoning, and to assume that the result of our reasoning is absolute truth. . . .
The influence of traditional material upon the life of man is not restricted to his thoughts, but manifests itself no less in his activities. . . . When we consider, for instance, the whole range of our daily life, we notice how strictly we are dependent upon tradition that can not be accounted for by any logical reasoning. We eat our three meals every day, and feel unhappy if we have to forego one of them. There is no physiological reason which demands three meals a day, and we find that many people are satisfied with two meals, while others enjoy four or even more. The range of animals and plants which we utilize for food is limited, and we have a decided aversion against eating dogs, or horses, or cats. There is certainly no objective reason for such aversion, since a great many people consider dogs and horses as dainties. . . . The whole range of actions that are considered as proper and improper can not be explained by any logical reason, but are almost all entirely due to custom; that is to say, they are purely traditional. This is even true of customs which excite strong emotions, as, for instance, those produced by infractions of modesty. . . .
No action can find the approval of a people which is fundamentally opposed to its customs and traditions. Among ourselves it is considered proper and a matter of course to treat the old with respect, for children to look after the welfare of their aged parents; and not to do so would be considered base ingratitude. Among the Eskimo we find an entirely different standard. It is required of children to kill their parents when they have become so old as to be helpless and no longer of any use to the family or to the community. It would be considered a breach of filial duty not to kill the aged parent. Revolting though this custom may seem to us, it is founded on an ethical law of the Eskimo, which rests on the whole mass of traditional lore and custom. . . .
It is somewhat difficult for us to recognize that the value which we attribute to our own civilization is due to the fact that we participate in this civilization, and that it has been controlling all our actions since the time of our birth; but it is certainly conceivable that there may be other civilizations, based perhaps on different traditions and on a different equilibrium of emotion and reason which are of no less value than ours, although it may be impossible for us to appreciate their values without having grown up under their influence.
About the Author
Franz Boas Franz Boas was a leading anthropologist in the United States during the late 19th and early 20th centuries. Sometimes referred to as the "father of American anthropology," Boas was among the most influential theorists, field researchers, and instructors of his era. His most important works include "The Limitations of the Comparative Method of Anthropology" (1896), The Mind of Primitive Man (in book form, as opposed to the earlier article by the same name; 1911), "Changes in the Bodily Form of the Descendants of Immigrants" (1912), "Mythology and Folktales of the North American Indians" (1914), Primitive Art (1927), and Race, Language, and Culture (1940).
Source
Commentary
Excerpt from Folkways (1906)
The folkways are the "right" ways to satisfy all interests, because they are traditional, and exist in fact. They extend over the whole of life. There is a right way to catch game, to win a wife, to make one's self appear, to cure disease, to honor ghosts, to treat comrades or strangers, to behave when a child is born, on the warpath, in council, and so on in all cases which can arise. . . . The "right" way is the way which the ancestors used and which has been handed down. The tradition is its own warrant. It is not held subject to verification by experience. The notion of right is in the folkways. It is not outside of them, of independent origin, and brought to them to test them. In the folkways, whatever is, is right. . . . "Rights" are the rules of mutual give and take in the competition of life which are imposed on comrades in the in-group, in order that the peace may prevail there which is essential to the group strength. Therefore rights can never be "natural" or "God-given," or absolute in any sense. The morality of a group at a time is the sum of the taboos and prescriptions in the folkways by which right conduct is defined. Therefore morals can never be intuitive. They are historical, institutional, and empirical.
World philosophy, life policy, right, rights, and morality are all products of the folkways. . . . The faith in the world philosophy drew lines outside of which the folkways must not go. Crude and vague notions of societal welfare were formed from the notion of pleasing the ghosts, and from such notions of expediency as the opinion that, if there were not children enough, there would not be warriors enough, or that, if there were too many children, the food supply would not be adequate. The notion of welfare was an inference and resultant from these mystic and utilitarian generalizations.
When the elements of truth and right are developed into doctrines of welfare, the folkways are raised to another plane. They then become capable of producing inferences, developing into new forms, and extending their constructive influence over men and society. Then we call them the mores. The mores are the folkways, including the philosophical and ethical generalizations as to societal welfare which are suggested by them, and inherent in them, as they grow. . . .
The mores come down to us from the past. Each individual is born into them as he is born into the atmosphere, and he does not reflect on them, or criticise them any more than a baby analyzes the atmosphere before he begins to breathe it. Each one is subjected to the influence of the mores, and formed by them, before he is capable of reasoning about them. . . . Nothing can ever change them but the unconscious and imperceptible movement of the mores. Religion was originally a matter of the mores. It became a societal institution and a function of the state. It has now to a great extent been put back into the mores. Since laws with penalties to enforce religious creeds or practices have gone out of use any one may think and act as he pleases about religion. . . . Democracy is in our American mores. It is a product of our physical and economic conditions. It is impossible to discuss or criticise it. It is glorified for popularity, and is a subject of dithyrambic rhetoric. No one treats it with complete candor and sincerity. No one dares to analyze it as he would aristocracy or autocracy. He would get no hearing and would only incur abuse. . . . The mores contain the norm by which, if we should discuss the mores, we should have to judge the mores. We learn the mores as unconsciously as we learn to walk and eat and breathe. The masses never learn how we walk, and eat, and breathe, and they never know any reason why the mores are what they are. The justification of them is that when we wake to consciousness of life we find them facts which already hold us in the bonds of tradition, custom, and habit. The mores contain embodied in them notions, doctrines, and maxims, but they are facts. They are in the present tense. They have nothing to do with what ought to be, will be, may be, or once was, if it is not now. . . .
A society does not record its mores in its annals, because they are to it unnoticed and unconscious. When we try to learn the mores of any age or people we have to seek our information in incidental references, allusions, observations of travelers, etc. Generally works of fiction, drama, etc., give us more information about the mores than historical records. . . . The mores are not recorded for the same reason that meals, going to bed, sunrise, etc., are not recorded, unless the regular course of things is broken.
We see that we must conceive of the mores as a vast system of usages, covering the whole of life, and serving all its interests; also containing in themselves their own justification by tradition and use and wont, and approved by mystic sanctions until, by rational reflection, they develop their own philosophical and ethical generalizations, which are elevated into "principles" of truth and right. They coerce and restrict the newborn generation. They do not stimulate to thought, but the contrary. The thinking is already done and is embodied in the mores. They never contain any provision for their own amendment. They are not questions, but answers, to the problem of life. They present themselves as final and unchangeable, because they present answers which are offered as "the truth." . . .
All the groups whose mores we consider far inferior to our own are quite as well satisfied with theirs as we are with ours. The goodness or badness of mores consists entirely in their adjustment to the life conditions and the interests of the time and place. Therefore it is a sign of ease and welfare when no thought is given to the mores, but all cooperate in them instinctively. . . .
At every turn we find new evidence that the mores can make anything right. What they do is that they cover a usage in dress, language, behavior, manners, etc., with the mantle of current custom, and give it regulation and limits within which it becomes unquestionable. The limit is generally a limit of toleration. . . . In regard to all social customs, the mores sanction them by defining them and giving them form. Such regulated customs are etiquette. The regulation by the mores always gives order and form, and thus surrounds life with limits within which we may and beyond which we may not pursue our interests (e.g., property and marriage). . . . The mores set the limits or define the disapproval. . . .
It cannot be doubted that, at any time, all ethical judgments are made through the atmosphere of the mores of the time. It is they which tell us what is right. It is only by high mental discipline that we can be trained to rise above that atmosphere and form rational judgments on current cases. This mental independence and ethical power are the highest products of education. They are also perilous. Our worst cranks are those who get the independence and power, but cannot stand alone and form correct judgments outside of the mores of the time and place. It must be remembered that the mores sometimes becloud the judgment, but they more often guide it.
About the Author
WIlliam Graham Sumner William Graham Sumner was an influential historian, economist, social scientist, critic, and teacher. Though often known primarily for his social Darwinist and free-market economic theories, he also wrote on a variety of other subjects, including cultural development and its effect on human societies. Among his many works are A History of American Currency (1874), What Social Classes Owe Each Other (1883), Protectionism (1885), The Financier and Finances of the American Revolution (1891), A History of Banking in All the Leading Nations (1896), Folkways (1906), and The Science of Society (1927).
Source
Commentary
Excerpt from "The Morals of Uncivilized People" (1910)
[H]owever great or small their power of reasoning, it is conceded that the mental endowment of all living beings lower than man is essentially if not altogether instinctive. . . . As there is nothing homologous to the rudest culture or civilization among even the highest animals, custom cannot materially influence them, and their equivalent of our morality must be entirely instinctive.
But when humanity is considered, the alleged distinction between the uncivilized and civilized races seems untrue. That any people, or any person even, has ever really regulated conduct by ideas or reason, is a delusion. The delusion is a common one because it is pleasing to flatter ourselves that our acts spring from purely rational motives. In fact, and of course, all real action precedes and determines intellectual reasoning, which, being analytical, cannot but be ex post facto [after the fact] and secondary. If this is true of ourselves, it obviously applies to people of less civilization, and must be a basic trait of all mankind, inherent in the constitution of human nature. . . .
There can be no doubt that the essential moral ideas of man spring from instinct. The repugnance toward murder, appropriation of the possessions of others, treachery, and want of hospitality, is based as little on considerations of social advantage or logical deductions as the sentiments are common to all races and times. The actions that are naturally the most abhorrent to everyone, such as cannibalism, incest, and lack of parental or filial devotion, are so thoroughly instinctive that these crimes have hardly had to be dealt with by most people, and their rarity and want of infectiousness are recognized in the frequent failure of creeds and codes to provide against them. Custom has further strengthened and shaped the inborn resentment we cherish against such actions, and custom has been variously modified by historical surroundings; but the source of the repugnance is purely unreasoning instinct. . . .
It is clear how these instincts could have arisen. In the animal world, they are, in the main, a necessity. The species that consumes itself, habitually inbreeds, or neglects its offspring, perishes. The unreasoning conditions of nature therefore have impressed strong aversions to such practices, or have suppressed the instincts toward them, in virtually all higher animals. From our animal ancestors we no doubt derive the same feelings; but as we are a "political animal," whose life is influenced by civilizational surroundings, and who is therefore apparently exempt from the operation of the laws of biological evolution, these inherited instincts may be entirely superfluous and useless to us. That in spite of this superfluity all men cling to them most tenaciously, reveals them to be only part of our blind natal make-up, as much so as the impulse that leads the dog to sacrifice himself for his master, the ant for her hill, the tigress for her young, and the salmon for his unborn progeny.
However, since man is constituted as a cultural being, his instincts must take shape according to his civilization. Hence there exist, in distant times and places, wide divergences or even contradictions of moral teaching, though the moral impulses are always the same. Page 11 of 15 To kill a stranger is often no crime, where society is organized on a restricted local basis, because the stranger is an enemy. Yet people who proclaim and practice this doctrine are no more given to murder among themselves than we are who justify only the shooting of an admitted national foe. The horizon is different in the two cases, the mental and social environments diverse, the scale of judgment various; but the principles according to which men determine whether a killing is a dastardly murder or an act of patriotic merit, are identical.
In the same way, the definitions of different nations as to what constitutes incest are as variable as their condemnation of the crime is universal. Some modern civilized people are shocked at marriage between uncle and niece, more tolerate cousin-marriage, but nearly all American Indians revolt at both. Until the most recent years Englishmen broke the law of their land if a woman succeeded her dead sister as wife; among innumerable nations the dead husband's brother feels it his duty to wed his sister-in-law. There are Australian tribes today among whom the woman that it is a man's duty to marry is his father's sister's daughter, while wedlock with the equivalent cousin through his mother's sister is an enormity and a crime.
In short, among all men there is a recognition of certain groups within which murder, theft, and marriage are wrong. The extent and composition of the groups vary tremendously from people to people, but this variation is an accident of political or intellectual development, and in itself no index or effect of morality. . . .
We have seen the ethical ideals of different times and places to be highly colored by custom and by historical, economic, and intellectual surroundings, perhaps by natural environment even, although everywhere resting on the same basis and actuated by the same principles. There is also much variety in the terminology of the explanations given of morality. Of course religion has been particularly active here. In ancient Palestine Jehovah, the mountain, and the stone tablets were brought forward as a convincing argument, just as in native California Chungichnish with his associates the raven and the rattlesnake furnished the reason why we should be good rather than bad. Even when the ritualistic apparatus is passed by, or does not exist, there is a divergence of explanation, for a "child of nature" has neither the ideas nor the language of a dialectic thinker. And yet, after all, [Immanuel Kant,] the greatest philosopher since the Greeks, fell back, in the search for a basis of ethics, upon the "categorical imperative"; and it is doubtful whether in this conception, however satisfying it may be to our genuine and more advanced intellectual needs, he essentially transcended the American Indian's answer, to the question why a certain action is objectionable: "because it is bad." . . .
Nothing is more erroneous than the wide-spread idea and oft-repeated statement that the savage is only a child. In knowledge, to a certain extent in intellect even, he may not rank above the children of civilization; but in character, in emotions, and in morals, he is essentially and absolutely a man. . . . Men are men and essentially alike wherever born and however reared, and breadth of view uninfluenced by doctrinal purpose has always subscribed to this opinion. There is every reason to believe, accordingly, that uncivilized and civilized men practice what they respectively regard as virtue, to the same degree.
In short, the moral element in humanity is basically instinctive. If we believe in evolution from animals, we must find the source of human morality, as of human senses and emotions, in animal life. Being an inherent element of the human mind, it is psychologically unexplainable and finds its justification only in itself. As an integral constituent of man, it is common to all races in identical or virtually identical form. Variations in moral ideas are reflections of changes in civilization. As civilization, however, is something outside of race and independent of the human body; and as it affects only the body of knowledge possessed by a people and the actions connected with this knowledge, the principles of morality cannot be influenced by civilization, however the concrete expression of these principles may vary in their adaptation to particular forms of civilization. The apparent difference between the morality of savages and ourselves is therefore not really in the morality but in the civilization.
About the Author
Alfred L. Kroeber Alfred L. Kroeber was a major 20th-century U.S. anthropologist who gained particular fame for studying the language and customs of the Yahi people of California with the group's last surviving member, Ishi. An important anthropological researcher, theorist, and author, Kroeber influenced a generation of anthropologists from his post at the University of California and through his many published works. Among his most important contributions to the field are The Religion of the Indians of California (1907), Anthropology (1923), Handbook of the Indians of California (1925), Configurations of Culture Growth (1944), The Nature of Culture (1952), and Style and Civilizations (1957).
MLA Citation
"International Activity: Is Our Understanding of the World Dependent on Our Culture?" World Geography: Understanding a Changing World, ABC-CLIO, 2021, worldgeography.abc- clio.com/Support/InvestigateActivity/1346356. Accessed 4 Oct. 2021.
COPYRIGHT 2021 ABC-CLIO, LLC
This content may be used for non-commercial, educational purposes only. https://worldgeography.abc-clio.com/Support/InvestigateActivity/1346356 Cultural Relativism
Activity
Inquiry Question Is our understanding of the world dependent on our culture?
The image at right shows Franz Boas, proponent of the idea of cultural relativism, demonstrating a ritual of the Hamatsa group of Canada's Kwakiutl people. Since European explorers first began to travel the wider world and came into contact with peoples and places with which they were wholly unfamiliar, scholars have attempted to make sense of the diversity of human society and activity. European traditions of catholicity—that some ideas, particularly religious ones, were universally applicable— led in part to colonial attempts to stamp out native cultures and assimilate all the people of the world into European belief systems. Many believed that non-European cultures were "primitive" or "backward" in their development, with Western civilization held up as the highest form of society and culture and the arbiter of what was true and right. As science came to explain more of the physical world, scholars sought to use scientific methods to study humans and their societies, often in an effort to develop rules for cultural evolution and to determine the "progress" of various groups.
Beginning in the late 1800s, however, a generation of anthropologists began to take a different view. This new generation, led by the groundbreaking ethnologist and polymath Boas, eschewed the ends of science and took a view previously confined to philosophy—that the subjective experiences of humans were dependent at least in part, if not entirely, upon their cultural environment. In an 1887 article on museums, Boas dropped a bombshell that would forever alter antropological study when he wrote about "the dissemination of the fact that civilization is not something absolute, but that it is relative, and that our ideas and conceptions are true only so far as our civilization goes." The field of cultural anthropology, the study of diverse cultures and worldviews on their own terms, developed from this seed, and today students the world over face the same question that Boas once asked himself: Is our understanding of the world around us dependent on our culture?
Background Information
Social Sciences The roots of the modern discipline of anthropology lie in the latter half of the 19th century, a time when the methods and aims of science were being applied to a diversity of subjects in an effort to establish the degree of certitude afforded to natural sciences like physics, biology, and chemistry. Essentially, it was thought that if scientific advances in physics could lead to engineering feats like suspension bridges and skyscrapers, then similar advances in the understanding of the human world should lead to more appropriate policies concerning society, government, and human endeavors. This followed the mid-19th century development of positivism—a term popularized by French philosopher and pioneering sociologist Auguste Comte—and "social sciences" began to emerge and grow in popularity. Earlier descriptions of non-Western peoples by travelers, missionaries, explorers, and scholars tended to be deductive—that is, conclusions were drawn logically by comparing particular evidence with one's existing assumptions, making judgments about specific things depending on larger preexisting judgments about their nature and place. In the positivist tradition of the social sciences, however, the first formal anthropologists hoped to use inductive reasoning—whereby conclusions are based upon observations of specific instances that may produce patterns that can be used to formulate more general rules—to uncover universal laws about societies and the human condition. Among the social sciences, the discipline of anthropology began to emerge as a positivist "study of man," particularly in the United Kingdom and United States.
Anthropologists of the late 19th and early 20th centuries undertook efforts to study, measure, document, and compare the various people of the world. Many early efforts were concerned primarily with laying the foundations for inductive study by performing fieldwork among various peoples around the world who were not well understood by Western scholars, gathering all sorts of data, from physical measurements of body parts to descriptions of their dress, customs, and living arrangements. Sociologists of the time, including important thinkers like émile Durkheim and Herbert Spencer, often used such data to explain and classify human societies based upon ideas from biology, describing them as repeating the sorts of functions, composition, and evolution observed in the natural world. At the same time, other scholars used the data to develop theories of societal evolution based upon the influential ideas of Charles Darwin, in some cases promoting a scientific racism that held physical and cultural differences to indicate the natural inferiority of certain groups. These ideas influenced, and were at times furthered by, many anthropologists of the era. Anthropology was thus intimately tied to both sociology and the natural sciences, and adopted elements of both; in fact, there was so much overlap that it is often difficult to differentiate them.
Building upon a general notion of societal evolution that had been popular since the 18th century and was bolstered by analogy to Darwinian evolution, it became increasingly fashionable to hold that human societies progress through a series of stages, from simple to complex, according to a variety of factors. Among the implications of this theory was that smaller, more exotic societies were evolutionarily backward or primitive and that Western society was superior in its more highly evolved complexities; in a sense, it was held that the relationship between the society and lifestyle of a British industrialist and that of a Papuan tribesman was akin to that between a human and a chimpanzee (or perhaps Cro Magnon man and Australopithecus). Armed with such conceptions, colonialism became a noble undertaking—the "White Man's Burden," as famously put by British author Rudyard Kipling in his 1899 poem by the same name— whereby Europeans "bettered" the "primitive" peoples of the world by introducing them to European ways and ideas. Such undertakings were further fueled by scientific racism sometimes based upon anthropologists' data.
Yet anthropological fieldwork also led to the evolution of the idea of culture. Once defined as the trappings of high civilization and set apart as a distinguishing factor between highly evolved societies and primitive ones, culture came to be defined more broadly by anthropologists as the collection of all customs and beliefs held by a particular group. U.S. anthropologist Lewis Henry Morgan and his British colleague Edward Burnett Tylor utilized this broader idea of culture to put forward theories of societal and cultural evolution, incorporating technology, religion, law, art, medical practices, and many other customs into their analyses. What emerged was a concept of culture as an all-encompassing summary of the many facets of life within a group. Various cultures could be compared, and many early anthropologists did just that, fashioning a comparative method that led rather directly to ideas of cultural evolution and progress. It was thought that anthropologists and sociologists could discover laws about societies and their evolution by comparing cultural data from groups across the world and finding patterns that would indicate the trajectory of that evolution.
The German-American anthropologist Franz Boas was among the first to openly question the comparative method. Boas believed that cultures were not necessarily comparable; in a sense, he found that comparing two unrelated cultures was like comparing two unrelated fruits—one can learn little about pineapples by examining apples, and it would be wrong to assume that an apple is just a primitive pineapple because the pineapple is larger and more apparently complex. Instead of the comparative method, Boas preferred a method, similar to that popular among historians at the time, that prioritized unbiased description placed within its proper context and discarded the need for laws governing general societal or cultural evolution. Eventually, Boas came to espouse an idea now known as cultural relativism, the cornerstone of which was the concept that a culture must be understood on its own terms, not as part of a larger theory or in relation to another culture. In order to perform ethnographic fieldwork properly, it was thus necessary for anthropologists to immerse themselves as much as possible in the culture they were studying. In this tradition, fieldwork was to be less like scientific labwork and more like method acting.
Boas proved to be enormously influential in the United States, and an entire generation of American anthropologists studied under him or one of his early protégés; he directly taught such important figures as Alfred Kroeber, Robert Lowie, Edward Sapir, Ruth Benedict, and Margaret Mead. Since this was also the formative period for many U.S. universities, these disciples founded and populated anthropology programs throughout the country and institutionalized their methods. Other anthropologists—notably the Englishman A.R. Radcliffe-Brown— attempted to salvage the scientific and comparative aspects of anthropology by focusing on analyses and taxonomies of cultural systems, but by the 1960s the original positivist ideal was maligned by most anthropologists. Today, the methods of cultural anthropology (or social anthropology in the United Kingdom) are still primarily based upon ideas of cultural relativism, and it is commonly taught that unbiased, context-sensitive work should be at the heart of anthropological endeavors. Each society presents its own subject matter, to be examined and conveyed to members of other societies and cultural groups, and the popularization of both the methods and results of anthropological work have allowed for a wider understanding of the true diversity of humankind.
Evan Brown
MLA Citation: Brown, Evan. "Social Sciences." World Geography: Understanding a Changing World, ABC-CLIO, 2021, worldgeography.abc-clio.com/Search/Display/1346358. Accessed 4 Oct. 2021. Source
Commentary
Excerpt from "The Mind of Primitive Man" (1901)
The activities of the mind manifest themselves in thoughts and actions, and exhibit an infinite variety of form among the peoples of the world. In order to understand these clearly, the student must endeavor to divest himself entirely of opinions and emotions based upon the peculiar social environment into which he is born. He must adapt his own mind, so far as feasible, to that of the people whom he is studying. The more successful he is in freeing himself from the bias based on the group of ideas that constitute the civilization in which he lives, the more successful he will be in interpreting the beliefs and actions of man. He must follow lines of thought that are new to him. He must participate in new emotions, and understand how, under unwonted conditions, both lead to actions. Beliefs, customs, and the response of the individual to the events of daily life, give us ample opportunity to observe the manifestations of the mind of man under varying conditions. . . .
In our own community a mass of observations and of thoughts is transmitted to the child. These thoughts are the result of careful observation and speculation of our present and of past generations; but they are transmitted to most individuals as traditional matter, much the same as folklore. The child associates new perceptions with this whole mass of traditional material, and interprets his observations by its means. I believe it is a mistake to assume that the interpretation made by each civilized individual is a complete logical process. We associate a phenomenon with a number of known facts, the interpretations of which are assumed as known, and we are satisfied with the reduction of a new fact to these previously known facts. For instance, if the average individual hears of the explosion of a previously unknown chemical, he is satisfied to reason that certain materials are known to have the property of exploding under proper conditions, and that consequently the unknown substance has the same quality. . . .
The instruction given to the child of primitive man is not based on centuries of experimentation, but consists of the crude experience of generations. When a new experience enters the mind of primitive man, the same process which we observe among civilized man brings about an entirely different series of associations, and therefore results in a different type of explanation. A sudden explosion will associate itself in his mind, perhaps, with tales which he has heard in regard to the mythical history of the world, and consequently will be accompanied by superstitious fear. When we recognize that, neither among civilized man nor among primitive man, the average individual carries to completion the attempt at causal explanation of phenomena, but carries it only so far as to amalgamate it with other previously known facts, we recognize that the result of the whole process depends entirely upon the character of the traditional material: herein lies the immense importance of folklore in determining the mode of thought. Herein lies particularly the enormous influence of current philosophic opinion upon the masses of the people, and herein lies the influence of the dominant scientific theory upon the character of scientific work.
It would be in vain to try to understand the development of modern science without an intelligent understanding of modern philosophy; it would be in vain to try to understand the history of medieval science without an intelligent knowledge of medieval theology; and so it is in vain to try to understand primitive science without an intelligent knowledge of primitive mythology. Mythology, theology and philosophy are different terms for the same influences which shape the current of human thought, and which determine the character of the attempts of man to explain the phenomena of nature. To primitive man—who has been taught to consider the heavenly orbs as animate beings, who sees in every animal a being more powerful than man, to whom the mountains, trees and stones are endowed with life—explanations of phenomena will suggest themselves entirely different from those to which we are accustomed, since we base our conclusions upon the existence of matter and force as bringing about the observed results. If we do not consider it possible to explain the whole range of phenomena as the result of matter and force alone, all our explanations of natural phenomena must take a different aspect.
In scientific inquiries we should always be clear in our own minds of the fact that we do not carry the analysis of any given phenomenon to completion; but that we always embody a number of hypotheses and theories in our explanations. In fact, if we were to do so, progress would hardly become possible, because every phenomenon would require an endless amount of time for thorough treatment. We are only too apt, however, to forget entirely the general, and, for most of us, purely traditional, theoretical basis which is the foundation of our reasoning, and to assume that the result of our reasoning is absolute truth. . . .
The influence of traditional material upon the life of man is not restricted to his thoughts, but manifests itself no less in his activities. . . . When we consider, for instance, the whole range of our daily life, we notice how strictly we are dependent upon tradition that can not be accounted for by any logical reasoning. We eat our three meals every day, and feel unhappy if we have to forego one of them. There is no physiological reason which demands three meals a day, and we find that many people are satisfied with two meals, while others enjoy four or even more. The range of animals and plants which we utilize for food is limited, and we have a decided aversion against eating dogs, or horses, or cats. There is certainly no objective reason for such aversion, since a great many people consider dogs and horses as dainties. . . . The whole range of actions that are considered as proper and improper can not be explained by any logical reason, but are almost all entirely due to custom; that is to say, they are purely traditional. This is even true of customs which excite strong emotions, as, for instance, those produced by infractions of modesty. . . .
No action can find the approval of a people which is fundamentally opposed to its customs and traditions. Among ourselves it is considered proper and a matter of course to treat the old with respect, for children to look after the welfare of their aged parents; and not to do so would be considered base ingratitude. Among the Eskimo we find an entirely different standard. It is required of children to kill their parents when they have become so old as to be helpless and no longer of any use to the family or to the community. It would be considered a breach of filial duty not to kill the aged parent. Revolting though this custom may seem to us, it is founded on an ethical law of the Eskimo, which rests on the whole mass of traditional lore and custom. . . .
It is somewhat difficult for us to recognize that the value which we attribute to our own civilization is due to the fact that we participate in this civilization, and that it has been controlling all our actions since the time of our birth; but it is certainly conceivable that there may be other civilizations, based perhaps on different traditions and on a different equilibrium of emotion and reason which are of no less value than ours, although it may be impossible for us to appreciate their values without having grown up under their influence.
About the Author
Franz Boas Franz Boas was a leading anthropologist in the United States during the late 19th and early 20th centuries. Sometimes referred to as the "father of American anthropology," Boas was among the most influential theorists, field researchers, and instructors of his era. His most important works include "The Limitations of the Comparative Method of Anthropology" (1896), The Mind of Primitive Man (in book form, as opposed to the earlier article by the same name; 1911), "Changes in the Bodily Form of the Descendants of Immigrants" (1912), "Mythology and Folktales of the North American Indians" (1914), Primitive Art (1927), and Race, Language, and Culture (1940).
Source
Commentary
Excerpt from Folkways (1906)
The folkways are the "right" ways to satisfy all interests, because they are traditional, and exist in fact. They extend over the whole of life. There is a right way to catch game, to win a wife, to make one's self appear, to cure disease, to honor ghosts, to treat comrades or strangers, to behave when a child is born, on the warpath, in council, and so on in all cases which can arise. . . . The "right" way is the way which the ancestors used and which has been handed down. The tradition is its own warrant. It is not held subject to verification by experience. The notion of right is in the folkways. It is not outside of them, of independent origin, and brought to them to test them. In the folkways, whatever is, is right. . . . "Rights" are the rules of mutual give and take in the competition of life which are imposed on comrades in the in-group, in order that the peace may prevail there which is essential to the group strength. Therefore rights can never be "natural" or "God-given," or absolute in any sense. The morality of a group at a time is the sum of the taboos and prescriptions in the folkways by which right conduct is defined. Therefore morals can never be intuitive. They are historical, institutional, and empirical.
World philosophy, life policy, right, rights, and morality are all products of the folkways. . . . The faith in the world philosophy drew lines outside of which the folkways must not go. Crude and vague notions of societal welfare were formed from the notion of pleasing the ghosts, and from such notions of expediency as the opinion that, if there were not children enough, there would not be warriors enough, or that, if there were too many children, the food supply would not be adequate. The notion of welfare was an inference and resultant from these mystic and utilitarian generalizations.
When the elements of truth and right are developed into doctrines of welfare, the folkways are raised to another plane. They then become capable of producing inferences, developing into new forms, and extending their constructive influence over men and society. Then we call them the mores. The mores are the folkways, including the philosophical and ethical generalizations as to societal welfare which are suggested by them, and inherent in them, as they grow. . . .
The mores come down to us from the past. Each individual is born into them as he is born into the atmosphere, and he does not reflect on them, or criticise them any more than a baby analyzes the atmosphere before he begins to breathe it. Each one is subjected to the influence of the mores, and formed by them, before he is capable of reasoning about them. . . . Nothing can ever change them but the unconscious and imperceptible movement of the mores. Religion was originally a matter of the mores. It became a societal institution and a function of the state. It has now to a great extent been put back into the mores. Since laws with penalties to enforce religious creeds or practices have gone out of use any one may think and act as he pleases about religion. . . . Democracy is in our American mores. It is a product of our physical and economic conditions. It is impossible to discuss or criticise it. It is glorified for popularity, and is a subject of dithyrambic rhetoric. No one treats it with complete candor and sincerity. No one dares to analyze it as he would aristocracy or autocracy. He would get no hearing and would only incur abuse. . . . The mores contain the norm by which, if we should discuss the mores, we should have to judge the mores. We learn the mores as unconsciously as we learn to walk and eat and breathe. The masses never learn how we walk, and eat, and breathe, and they never know any reason why the mores are what they are. The justification of them is that when we wake to consciousness of life we find them facts which already hold us in the bonds of tradition, custom, and habit. The mores contain embodied in them notions, doctrines, and maxims, but they are facts. They are in the present tense. They have nothing to do with what ought to be, will be, may be, or once was, if it is not now. . . .
A society does not record its mores in its annals, because they are to it unnoticed and unconscious. When we try to learn the mores of any age or people we have to seek our information in incidental references, allusions, observations of travelers, etc. Generally works of fiction, drama, etc., give us more information about the mores than historical records. . . . The mores are not recorded for the same reason that meals, going to bed, sunrise, etc., are not recorded, unless the regular course of things is broken.
We see that we must conceive of the mores as a vast system of usages, covering the whole of life, and serving all its interests; also containing in themselves their own justification by tradition and use and wont, and approved by mystic sanctions until, by rational reflection, they develop their own philosophical and ethical generalizations, which are elevated into "principles" of truth and right. They coerce and restrict the newborn generation. They do not stimulate to thought, but the contrary. The thinking is already done and is embodied in the mores. They never contain any provision for their own amendment. They are not questions, but answers, to the problem of life. They present themselves as final and unchangeable, because they present answers which are offered as "the truth." . . .
All the groups whose mores we consider far inferior to our own are quite as well satisfied with theirs as we are with ours. The goodness or badness of mores consists entirely in their adjustment to the life conditions and the interests of the time and place. Therefore it is a sign of ease and welfare when no thought is given to the mores, but all cooperate in them instinctively. . . .
At every turn we find new evidence that the mores can make anything right. What they do is that they cover a usage in dress, language, behavior, manners, etc., with the mantle of current custom, and give it regulation and limits within which it becomes unquestionable. The limit is generally a limit of toleration. . . . In regard to all social customs, the mores sanction them by defining them and giving them form. Such regulated customs are etiquette. The regulation by the mores always gives order and form, and thus surrounds life with limits within which we may and beyond which we may not pursue our interests (e.g., property and marriage). . . . The mores set the limits or define the disapproval. . . .
It cannot be doubted that, at any time, all ethical judgments are made through the atmosphere of the mores of the time. It is they which tell us what is right. It is only by high mental discipline that we can be trained to rise above that atmosphere and form rational judgments on current cases. This mental independence and ethical power are the highest products of education. They are also perilous. Our worst cranks are those who get the independence and power, but cannot stand alone and form correct judgments outside of the mores of the time and place. It must be remembered that the mores sometimes becloud the judgment, but they more often guide it.
About the Author
WIlliam Graham Sumner William Graham Sumner was an influential historian, economist, social scientist, critic, and teacher. Though often known primarily for his social Darwinist and free-market economic theories, he also wrote on a variety of other subjects, including cultural development and its effect on human societies. Among his many works are A History of American Currency (1874), What Social Classes Owe Each Other (1883), Protectionism (1885), The Financier and Finances of the American Revolution (1891), A History of Banking in All the Leading Nations (1896), Folkways (1906), and The Science of Society (1927).
Source
Commentary
Excerpt from "The Morals of Uncivilized People" (1910)
[H]owever great or small their power of reasoning, it is conceded that the mental endowment of all living beings lower than man is essentially if not altogether instinctive. . . . As there is nothing homologous to the rudest culture or civilization among even the highest animals, custom cannot materially influence them, and their equivalent of our morality must be entirely instinctive.
But when humanity is considered, the alleged distinction between the uncivilized and civilized races seems untrue. That any people, or any person even, has ever really regulated conduct by ideas or reason, is a delusion. The delusion is a common one because it is pleasing to flatter ourselves that our acts spring from purely rational motives. In fact, and of course, all real action precedes and determines intellectual reasoning, which, being analytical, cannot but be ex post facto [after the fact] and secondary. If this is true of ourselves, it obviously applies to people of less civilization, and must be a basic trait of all mankind, inherent in the constitution of human nature. . . .
There can be no doubt that the essential moral ideas of man spring from instinct. The repugnance toward murder, appropriation of the possessions of others, treachery, and want of hospitality, is based as little on considerations of social advantage or logical deductions as the sentiments are common to all races and times. The actions that are naturally the most abhorrent to everyone, such as cannibalism, incest, and lack of parental or filial devotion, are so thoroughly instinctive that these crimes have hardly had to be dealt with by most people, and their rarity and want of infectiousness are recognized in the frequent failure of creeds and codes to provide against them. Custom has further strengthened and shaped the inborn resentment we cherish against such actions, and custom has been variously modified by historical surroundings; but the source of the repugnance is purely unreasoning instinct. . . .
It is clear how these instincts could have arisen. In the animal world, they are, in the main, a necessity. The species that consumes itself, habitually inbreeds, or neglects its offspring, perishes. The unreasoning conditions of nature therefore have impressed strong aversions to such practices, or have suppressed the instincts toward them, in virtually all higher animals. From our animal ancestors we no doubt derive the same feelings; but as we are a "political animal," whose life is influenced by civilizational surroundings, and who is therefore apparently exempt from the operation of the laws of biological evolution, these inherited instincts may be entirely superfluous and useless to us. That in spite of this superfluity all men cling to them most tenaciously, reveals them to be only part of our blind natal make-up, as much so as the impulse that leads the dog to sacrifice himself for his master, the ant for her hill, the tigress for her young, and the salmon for his unborn progeny.
However, since man is constituted as a cultural being, his instincts must take shape according to his civilization. Hence there exist, in distant times and places, wide divergences or even contradictions of moral teaching, though the moral impulses are always the same.
To kill a stranger is often no crime, where society is organized on a restricted local basis, because the stranger is an enemy. Yet people who proclaim and practice this doctrine are no more given to murder among themselves than we are who justify only the shooting of an admitted national foe. The horizon is different in the two cases, the mental and social environments diverse, the scale of judgment various; but the principles according to which men determine whether a killing is a dastardly murder or an act of patriotic merit, are identical.
In the same way, the definitions of different nations as to what constitutes incest are as variable as their condemnation of the crime is universal. Some modern civilized people are shocked at marriage between uncle and niece, more tolerate cousin-marriage, but nearly all American Indians revolt at both. Until the most recent years Englishmen broke the law of their land if a woman succeeded her dead sister as wife; among innumerable nations the dead husband's brother feels it his duty to wed his sister-in-law. There are Australian tribes today among whom the woman that it is a man's duty to marry is his father's sister's daughter, while wedlock with the equivalent cousin through his mother's sister is an enormity and a crime.
In short, among all men there is a recognition of certain groups within which murder, theft, and marriage are wrong. The extent and composition of the groups vary tremendously from people to people, but this variation is an accident of political or intellectual development, and in itself no index or effect of morality. . . .
We have seen the ethical ideals of different times and places to be highly colored by custom and by historical, economic, and intellectual surroundings, perhaps by natural environment even, although everywhere resting on the same basis and actuated by the same principles. There is also much variety in the terminology of the explanations given of morality. Of course religion has been particularly active here. In ancient Palestine Jehovah, the mountain, and the stone tablets were brought forward as a convincing argument, just as in native California Chungichnish with his associates the raven and the rattlesnake furnished the reason why we should be good rather than bad. Even when the ritualistic apparatus is passed by, or does not exist, there is a divergence of explanation, for a "child of nature" has neither the ideas nor the language of a dialectic thinker. And yet, after all, [Immanuel Kant,] the greatest philosopher since the Greeks, fell back, in the search for a basis of ethics, upon the "categorical imperative"; and it is doubtful whether in this conception, however satisfying it may be to our genuine and more advanced intellectual needs, he essentially transcended the American Indian's answer, to the question why a certain action is objectionable: "because it is bad." . . .
Nothing is more erroneous than the wide-spread idea and oft-repeated statement that the savage is only a child. In knowledge, to a certain extent in intellect even, he may not rank above the children of civilization; but in character, in emotions, and in morals, he is essentially and absolutely a man. . . . Men are men and essentially alike wherever born and however reared, and breadth of view uninfluenced by doctrinal purpose has always subscribed to this opinion. There is every reason to believe, accordingly, that uncivilized and civilized men practice what they respectively regard as virtue, to the same degree.
In short, the moral element in humanity is basically instinctive. If we believe in evolution from animals, we must find the source of human morality, as of human senses and emotions, in animal life. BeingPage an inherent 12 of 15 element of the human mind, it is psychologically unexplainable and finds its justification only in itself. As an integral constituent of man, it is common to all races in identical or virtually identical form. Variations in moral ideas are reflections of changes in civilization. As civilization, however, is something outside of race and independent of the human body; and as it affects only the body of knowledge possessed by a people and the actions connected with this knowledge, the principles of morality cannot be influenced by civilization, however the concrete expression of these principles may vary in their adaptation to particular forms of civilization. The apparent difference between the morality of savages and ourselves is therefore not really in the morality but in the civilization.
About the Author
Alfred L. Kroeber Alfred L. Kroeber was a major 20th-century U.S. anthropologist who gained particular fame for studying the language and customs of the Yahi people of California with the group's last surviving member, Ishi. An important anthropological researcher, theorist, and author, Kroeber influenced a generation of anthropologists from his post at the University of California and through his many published works. Among his most important contributions to the field are The Religion of the Indians of California (1907), Anthropology (1923), Handbook of the Indians of California (1925), Configurations of Culture Growth (1944), The Nature of Culture (1952), and Style and Civilizations (1957).
MLA Citation
"International Activity: Is Our Understanding of the World Dependent on Our Culture?" World Geography: Understanding a Changing World, ABC-CLIO, 2021, worldgeography.abc- clio.com/Support/InvestigateActivity/1346356. Accessed 4 Oct. 2021.
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This content may be used for non-commercial, educational purposes only. https://worldgeography.abc-clio.com/Support/InvestigateActivity/1346356 Cultural Relativism
Activity
Inquiry Question Is our understanding of the world dependent on our culture?
The image at right shows Franz Boas, proponent of the idea of cultural relativism, demonstrating a ritual of the Hamatsa group of Canada's Kwakiutl people. Since European explorers first began to travel the wider world and came into contact with peoples and places with which they were wholly unfamiliar, scholars have attempted to make sense of the diversity of human society and activity. European traditions of catholicity—that some ideas, particularly religious ones, were universally applicable— led in part to colonial attempts to stamp out native cultures and assimilate all the people of the world into European belief systems. Many believed that non-European cultures were "primitive" or "backward" in their development, with Western civilization held up as the highest form of society and culture and the arbiter of what was true and right. As science came to explain more of the physical world, scholars sought to use scientific methods to study humans and their societies, often in an effort to develop rules for cultural evolution and to determine the "progress" of various groups.
Beginning in the late 1800s, however, a generation of anthropologists began to take a different view. This new generation, led by the groundbreaking ethnologist and polymath Boas, eschewed the ends of science and took a view previously confined to philosophy—that the subjective experiences of humans were dependent at least in part, if not entirely, upon their cultural environment. In an 1887 article on museums, Boas dropped a bombshell that would forever alter antropological study when he wrote about "the dissemination of the fact that civilization is not something absolute, but that it is relative, and that our ideas and conceptions are true only so far as our civilization goes." The field of cultural anthropology, the study of diverse cultures and worldviews on their own terms, developed from this seed, and today students the world over face the same question that Boas once asked himself: Is our understanding of the world around us dependent on our culture?
Background Information
Social Sciences The roots of the modern discipline of anthropology lie in the latter half of the 19th century, a time when the methods and aims of science were being applied to a diversity of subjects in an effort to establish the degree of certitude afforded to natural sciences like physics, biology, and chemistry. Essentially, it was thought that if scientific advances in physics could lead to engineering feats like suspension bridges and skyscrapers, then similar advances in the understanding of the human world should lead to more appropriate policies concerning society, government, and human endeavors. This followed the mid-19th century development of positivism—a term popularized by French philosopher and pioneering sociologist Auguste Comte—and "social sciences" began to emerge and grow in popularity. Earlier descriptions of non-Western peoples by travelers, missionaries, explorers, and scholars tended to be deductive—that is, conclusions were drawn logically by comparing particular evidence with one's existing assumptions, making judgments about specific things depending on larger preexisting judgments about their nature and place. In the positivist tradition of the social sciences, however, the first formal anthropologists hoped to use inductive reasoning—whereby conclusions are based upon observations of specific instances that may produce patterns that can be used to formulate more general rules—to uncover universal laws about societies and the human condition. Among the social sciences, the discipline of anthropology began to emerge as a positivist "study of man," particularly in the United Kingdom and United States.
Anthropologists of the late 19th and early 20th centuries undertook efforts to study, measure, document, and compare the various people of the world. Many early efforts were concerned primarily with laying the foundations for inductive study by performing fieldwork among various peoples around the world who were not well understood by Western scholars, gathering all sorts of data, from physical measurements of body parts to descriptions of their dress, customs, and living arrangements. Sociologists of the time, including important thinkers like émile Durkheim and Herbert Spencer, often used such data to explain and classify human societies based upon ideas from biology, describing them as repeating the sorts of functions, composition, and evolution observed in the natural world. At the same time, other scholars used the data to develop theories of societal evolution based upon the influential ideas of Charles Darwin, in some cases promoting a scientific racism that held physical and cultural differences to indicate the natural inferiority of certain groups. These ideas influenced, and were at times furthered by, many anthropologists of the era. Anthropology was thus intimately tied to both sociology and the natural sciences, and adopted elements of both; in fact, there was so much overlap that it is often difficult to differentiate them.
Building upon a general notion of societal evolution that had been popular since the 18th century and was bolstered by analogy to Darwinian evolution, it became increasingly fashionable to hold that human societies progress through a series of stages, from simple to complex, according to a variety of factors. Among the implications of this theory was that smaller, more exotic societies were evolutionarily backward or primitive and that Western society was superior in its more highly evolved complexities; in a sense, it was held that the relationship between the society and lifestyle of a British industrialist and that of a Papuan tribesman was akin to that between a human and a chimpanzee (or perhaps Cro Magnon man and Australopithecus). Armed with such conceptions, colonialism became a noble undertaking—the "White Man's Burden," as famously put by British author Rudyard Kipling in his 1899 poem by the same name— whereby Europeans "bettered" the "primitive" peoples of the world by introducing them to European ways and ideas. Such undertakings were further fueled by scientific racism sometimes based upon anthropologists' data.
Yet anthropological fieldwork also led to the evolution of the idea of culture. Once defined as the trappings of high civilization and set apart as a distinguishing factor between highly evolved societies and primitive ones, culture came to be defined more broadly by anthropologists as the collection of all customs and beliefs held by a particular group. U.S. anthropologist Lewis Henry Morgan and his British colleague Edward Burnett Tylor utilized this broader idea of culture to put forward theories of societal and cultural evolution, incorporating technology, religion, law, art, medical practices, and many other customs into their analyses. What emerged was a concept of culture as an all-encompassing summary of the many facets of life within a group. Various cultures could be compared, and many early anthropologists did just that, fashioning a comparative method that led rather directly to ideas of cultural evolution and progress. It was thought that anthropologists and sociologists could discover laws about societies and their evolution by comparing cultural data from groups across the world and finding patterns that would indicate the trajectory of that evolution.
The German-American anthropologist Franz Boas was among the first to openly question the comparative method. Boas believed that cultures were not necessarily comparable; in a sense, he found that comparing two unrelated cultures was like comparing two unrelated fruits—one can learn little about pineapples by examining apples, and it would be wrong to assume that an apple is just a primitive pineapple because the pineapple is larger and more apparently complex. Instead of the comparative method, Boas preferred a method, similar to that popular among historians at the time, that prioritized unbiased description placed within its proper context and discarded the need for laws governing general societal or cultural evolution. Eventually, Boas came to espouse an idea now known as cultural relativism, the cornerstone of which was the concept that a culture must be understood on its own terms, not as part of a larger theory or in relation to another culture. In order to perform ethnographic fieldwork properly, it was thus necessary for anthropologists to immerse themselves as much as possible in the culture they were studying. In this tradition, fieldwork was to be less like scientific labwork and more like method acting.
Boas proved to be enormously influential in the United States, and an entire generation of American anthropologists studied under him or one of his early protégés; he directly taught such important figures as Alfred Kroeber, Robert Lowie, Edward Sapir, Ruth Benedict, and Margaret Mead. Since this was also the formative period for many U.S. universities, these disciples founded and populated anthropology programs throughout the country and institutionalized their methods. Other anthropologists—notably the Englishman A.R. Radcliffe-Brown— attempted to salvage the scientific and comparative aspects of anthropology by focusing on analyses and taxonomies of cultural systems, but by the 1960s the original positivist ideal was maligned by most anthropologists. Today, the methods of cultural anthropology (or social anthropology in the United Kingdom) are still primarily based upon ideas of cultural relativism, and it is commonly taught that unbiased, context-sensitive work should be at the heart of anthropological endeavors. Each society presents its own subject matter, to be examined and conveyed to members of other societies and cultural groups, and the popularization of both the methods and results of anthropological work have allowed for a wider understanding of the true diversity of humankind.
Evan Brown
MLA Citation: Brown, Evan. "Social Sciences." World Geography: Understanding a Changing World, ABC-CLIO, 2021, worldgeography.abc-clio.com/Search/Display/1346358. Accessed 4 Oct. 2021. Source
Commentary
Excerpt from "The Mind of Primitive Man" (1901)
The activities of the mind manifest themselves in thoughts and actions, and exhibit an infinite variety of form among the peoples of the world. In order to understand these clearly, the student must endeavor to divest himself entirely of opinions and emotions based upon the peculiar social environment into which he is born. He must adapt his own mind, so far as feasible, to that of the people whom he is studying. The more successful he is in freeing himself from the bias based on the group of ideas that constitute the civilization in which he lives, the more successful he will be in interpreting the beliefs and actions of man. He must follow lines of thought that are new to him. He must participate in new emotions, and understand how, under unwonted conditions, both lead to actions. Beliefs, customs, and the response of the individual to the events of daily life, give us ample opportunity to observe the manifestations of the mind of man under varying conditions. . . .
In our own community a mass of observations and of thoughts is transmitted to the child. These thoughts are the result of careful observation and speculation of our present and of past generations; but they are transmitted to most individuals as traditional matter, much the same as folklore. The child associates new perceptions with this whole mass of traditional material, and interprets his observations by its means. I believe it is a mistake to assume that the interpretation made by each civilized individual is a complete logical process. We associate a phenomenon with a number of known facts, the interpretations of which are assumed as known, and we are satisfied with the reduction of a new fact to these previously known facts. For instance, if the average individual hears of the explosion of a previously unknown chemical, he is satisfied to reason that certain materials are known to have the property of exploding under proper conditions, and that consequently the unknown substance has the same quality. . . .
The instruction given to the child of primitive man is not based on centuries of experimentation, but consists of the crude experience of generations. When a new experience enters the mind of primitive man, the same process which we observe among civilized man brings about an entirely different series of associations, and therefore results in a different type of explanation. A sudden explosion will associate itself in his mind, perhaps, with tales which he has heard in regard to the mythical history of the world, and consequently will be accompanied by superstitious fear. When we recognize that, neither among civilized man nor among primitive man, the average individual carries to completion the attempt at causal explanation of phenomena, but carries it only so far as to amalgamate it with other previously known facts, we recognize that the result of the whole process depends entirely upon the character of the traditional material: herein lies the immense importance of folklore in determining the mode of thought. Herein lies particularly the enormous influence of current philosophic opinion upon the masses of the people, and herein lies the influence of the dominant scientific theory upon the character of scientific work.
It would be in vain to try to understand the development of modern science without an intelligent understanding of modern philosophy; it would be in vain to try to understand the history of medieval science without an intelligent knowledge of medieval theology; and so it is in vain to try to understand primitive science without an intelligent knowledge of primitive mythology. Mythology, theology and philosophy are different terms for the same influences which shape the current of human thought, and which determine the character of the attempts of man to explain the phenomena of nature. To primitive man—who has been taught to consider the heavenly orbs as animate beings, who sees in every animal a being more powerful than man, to whom the mountains, trees and stones are endowed with life—explanations of phenomena will suggest themselves entirely different from those to which we are accustomed, since we base our conclusions upon the existence of matter and force as bringing about the observed results. If we do not consider it possible to explain the whole range of phenomena as the result of matter and force alone, all our explanations of natural phenomena must take a different aspect.
In scientific inquiries we should always be clear in our own minds of the fact that we do not carry the analysis of any given phenomenon to completion; but that we always embody a number of hypotheses and theories in our explanations. In fact, if we were to do so, progress would hardly become possible, because every phenomenon would require an endless amount of time for thorough treatment. We are only too apt, however, to forget entirely the general, and, for most of us, purely traditional, theoretical basis which is the foundation of our reasoning, and to assume that the result of our reasoning is absolute truth. . . .
The influence of traditional material upon the life of man is not restricted to his thoughts, but manifests itself no less in his activities. . . . When we consider, for instance, the whole range of our daily life, we notice how strictly we are dependent upon tradition that can not be accounted for by any logical reasoning. We eat our three meals every day, and feel unhappy if we have to forego one of them. There is no physiological reason which demands three meals a day, and we find that many people are satisfied with two meals, while others enjoy four or even more. The range of animals and plants which we utilize for food is limited, and we have a decided aversion against eating dogs, or horses, or cats. There is certainly no objective reason for such aversion, since a great many people consider dogs and horses as dainties. . . . The whole range of actions that are considered as proper and improper can not be explained by any logical reason, but are almost all entirely due to custom; that is to say, they are purely traditional. This is even true of customs which excite strong emotions, as, for instance, those produced by infractions of modesty. . . .
No action can find the approval of a people which is fundamentally opposed to its customs and traditions. Among ourselves it is considered proper and a matter of course to treat the old with respect, for children to look after the welfare of their aged parents; and not to do so would be considered base ingratitude. Among the Eskimo we find an entirely different standard. It is required of children to kill their parents when they have become so old as to be helpless and no longer of any use to the family or to the community. It would be considered a breach of filial duty not to kill the aged parent. Revolting though this custom may seem to us, it is founded on an ethical law of the Eskimo, which rests on the whole mass of traditional lore and custom. . . .
It is somewhat difficult for us to recognize that the value which we attribute to our own civilization is due to the fact that we participate in this civilization, and that it has been controlling all our actions since the time of our birth; but it is certainly conceivable that there may be other civilizations, based perhaps on different traditions and on a different equilibrium of emotion and reason which are of no less value than ours, although it may be impossible for us to appreciate their values without having grown up under their influence.
About the Author
Franz Boas Franz Boas was a leading anthropologist in the United States during the late 19th and early 20th centuries. Sometimes referred to as the "father of American anthropology," Boas was among the most influential theorists, field researchers, and instructors of his era. His most important works include "The Limitations of the Comparative Method of Anthropology" (1896), The Mind of Primitive Man (in book form, as opposed to the earlier article by the same name; 1911), "Changes in the Bodily Form of the Descendants of Immigrants" (1912), "Mythology and Folktales of the North American Indians" (1914), Primitive Art (1927), and Race, Language, and Culture (1940).
Source
Commentary
Excerpt from Folkways (1906)
The folkways are the "right" ways to satisfy all interests, because they are traditional, and exist in fact. They extend over the whole of life. There is a right way to catch game, to win a wife, to make one's self appear, to cure disease, to honor ghosts, to treat comrades or strangers, to behave when a child is born, on the warpath, in council, and so on in all cases which can arise. . . . The "right" way is the way which the ancestors used and which has been handed down. The tradition is its own warrant. It is not held subject to verification by experience. The notion of right is in the folkways. It is not outside of them, of independent origin, and brought to them to test them. In the folkways, whatever is, is right. . . . "Rights" are the rules of mutual give and take in the competition of life which are imposed on comrades in the in-group, in order that the peace may prevail there which is essential to the group strength. Therefore rights can never be "natural" or "God-given," or absolute in any sense. The morality of a group at a time is the sum of the taboos and prescriptions in the folkways by which right conduct is defined. Therefore morals can never be intuitive. They are historical, institutional, and empirical.
World philosophy, life policy, right, rights, and morality are all products of the folkways. . . . The faith in the world philosophy drew lines outside of which the folkways must not go. Crude and vague notions of societal welfare were formed from the notion of pleasing the ghosts, and from such notions of expediency as the opinion that, if there were not children enough, there would not be warriors enough, or that, if there were too many children, the food supply would not be adequate. The notion of welfare was an inference and resultant from these mystic and utilitarian generalizations.
When the elements of truth and right are developed into doctrines of welfare, the folkways are raised to another plane. They then become capable of producing inferences, developing into new forms, and extending their constructive influence over men and society. Then we call them the mores. The mores are the folkways, including the philosophical and ethical generalizations as to societal welfare which are suggested by them, and inherent in them, as they grow. . . .
The mores come down to us from the past. Each individual is born into them as he is born into the atmosphere, and he does not reflect on them, or criticise them any more than a baby analyzes the atmosphere before he begins to breathe it. Each one is subjected to the influence of the mores, and formed by them, before he is capable of reasoning about them. . . . Nothing can ever change them but the unconscious and imperceptible movement of the mores. Religion was originally a matter of the mores. It became a societal institution and a function of the state. It has now to a great extent been put back into the mores. Since laws with penalties to enforce religious creeds or practices have gone out of use any one may think and act as he pleases about religion. . . . Democracy is in our American mores. It is a product of our physical and economic conditions. It is impossible to discuss or criticise it. It is glorified for popularity, and is a subject of dithyrambic rhetoric. No one treats it with complete candor and sincerity. No one dares to analyze it as he would aristocracy or autocracy. He would get no hearing and would only incur abuse. . . . The mores contain the norm by which, if we should discuss the mores, we should have to judge the mores. We learn the mores as unconsciously as we learn to walk and eat and breathe. The masses never learn how we walk, and eat, and breathe, and they never know any reason why the mores are what they are. The justification of them is that when we wake to consciousness of life we find them facts which already hold us in the bonds of tradition, custom, and habit. The mores contain embodied in them notions, doctrines, and maxims, but they are facts. They are in the present tense. They have nothing to do with what ought to be, will be, may be, or once was, if it is not now. . . .
A society does not record its mores in its annals, because they are to it unnoticed and unconscious. When we try to learn the mores of any age or people we have to seek our information in incidental references, allusions, observations of travelers, etc. Generally works of fiction, drama, etc., give us more information about the mores than historical records. . . . The mores are not recorded for the same reason that meals, going to bed, sunrise, etc., are not recorded, unless the regular course of things is broken.
We see that we must conceive of the mores as a vast system of usages, covering the whole of life, and serving all its interests; also containing in themselves their own justification by tradition and use and wont, and approved by mystic sanctions until, by rational reflection, they develop their own philosophical and ethical generalizations, which are elevated into "principles" of truth and right. They coerce and restrict the newborn generation. They do not stimulate to thought, but the contrary. The thinking is already done and is embodied in the mores. They never contain any provision for their own amendment. They are not questions, but answers, to the problem of life. They present themselves as final and unchangeable, because they present answers which are offered as "the truth." . . .
All the groups whose mores we consider far inferior to our own are quite as well satisfied with theirs as we are with ours. The goodness or badness of mores consists entirely in their adjustment to the life conditions and the interests of the time and place. Therefore it is a sign of ease and welfare when no thought is given to the mores, but all cooperate in them instinctively. . . .
At every turn we find new evidence that the mores can make anything right. What they do is that they cover a usage in dress, language, behavior, manners, etc., with the mantle of current custom, and give it regulation and limits within which it becomes unquestionable. The limit is generally a limit of toleration. . . . In regard to all social customs, the mores sanction them by defining them and giving them form. Such regulated customs are etiquette. The regulation by the mores always gives order and form, and thus surrounds life with limits within which we may and beyond which we may not pursue our interests (e.g., property and marriage). . . . The mores set the limits or define the disapproval. . . .
It cannot be doubted that, at any time, all ethical judgments are made through the atmosphere of the mores of the time. It is they which tell us what is right. It is only by high mental discipline that we can be trained to rise above that atmosphere and form rational judgments on current cases. This mental independence and ethical power are the highest products of education. They are also perilous. Our worst cranks are those who get the independence and power, but cannot stand alone and form correct judgments outside of the mores of the time and place. It must be remembered that the mores sometimes becloud the judgment, but they more often guide it.
About the Author
WIlliam Graham Sumner William Graham Sumner was an influential historian, economist, social scientist, critic, and teacher. Though often known primarily for his social Darwinist and free-market economic theories, he also wrote on a variety of other subjects, including cultural development and its effect on human societies. Among his many works are A History of American Currency (1874), What Social Classes Owe Each Other (1883), Protectionism (1885), The Financier and Finances of the American Revolution (1891), A History of Banking in All the Leading Nations (1896), Folkways (1906), and The Science of Society (1927).
Source
Commentary
Excerpt from "The Morals of Uncivilized People" (1910)
[H]owever great or small their power of reasoning, it is conceded that the mental endowment of all living beings lower than man is essentially if not altogether instinctive. . . . As there is nothing homologous to the rudest culture or civilization among even the highest animals, custom cannot materially influence them, and their equivalent of our morality must be entirely instinctive.
But when humanity is considered, the alleged distinction between the uncivilized and civilized races seems untrue. That any people, or any person even, has ever really regulated conduct by ideas or reason, is a delusion. The delusion is a common one because it is pleasing to flatter ourselves that our acts spring from purely rational motives. In fact, and of course, all real action precedes and determines intellectual reasoning, which, being analytical, cannot but be ex post facto [after the fact] and secondary. If this is true of ourselves, it obviously applies to people of less civilization, and must be a basic trait of all mankind, inherent in the constitution of human nature. . . .
There can be no doubt that the essential moral ideas of man spring from instinct. The repugnance toward murder, appropriation of the possessions of others, treachery, and want of hospitality, is based as little on considerations of social advantage or logical deductions as the sentiments are common to all races and times. The actions that are naturally the most abhorrent to everyone, such as cannibalism, incest, and lack of parental or filial devotion, are so thoroughly instinctive that these crimes have hardly had to be dealt with by most people, and their rarity and want of infectiousness are recognized in the frequent failure of creeds and codes to provide against them. Custom has further strengthened and shaped the inborn resentment we cherish against such actions, and custom has been variously modified by historical surroundings; but the source of the repugnance is purely unreasoning instinct. . . .
It is clear how these instincts could have arisen. In the animal world, they are, in the main, a necessity. The species that consumes itself, habitually inbreeds, or neglects its offspring, perishes. The unreasoning conditions of nature therefore have impressed strong aversions to such practices, or have suppressed the instincts toward them, in virtually all higher animals. From our animal ancestors we no doubt derive the same feelings; but as we are a "political animal," whose life is influenced by civilizational surroundings, and who is therefore apparently exempt from the operation of the laws of biological evolution, these inherited instincts may be entirely superfluous and useless to us. That in spite of this superfluity all men cling to them most tenaciously, reveals them to be only part of our blind natal make-up, as much so as the impulse that leads the dog to sacrifice himself for his master, the ant for her hill, the tigress for her young, and the salmon for his unborn progeny.
However, since man is constituted as a cultural being, his instincts must take shape according to his civilization. Hence there exist, in distant times and places, wide divergences or even contradictions of moral teaching, though the moral impulses are always the same.
To kill a stranger is often no crime, where society is organized on a restricted local basis, because the stranger is an enemy. Yet people who proclaim and practice this doctrine are no more given to murder among themselves than we are who justify only the shooting of an admitted national foe. The horizon is different in the two cases, the mental and social environments diverse, the scale of judgment various; but the principles according to which men determine whether a killing is a dastardly murder or an act of patriotic merit, are identical.
In the same way, the definitions of different nations as to what constitutes incest are as variable as their condemnation of the crime is universal. Some modern civilized people are shocked at marriage between uncle and niece, more tolerate cousin-marriage, but nearly all American Indians revolt at both. Until the most recent years Englishmen broke the law of their land if a woman succeeded her dead sister as wife; among innumerable nations the dead husband's brother feels it his duty to wed his sister-in-law. There are Australian tribes today among whom the woman that it is a man's duty to marry is his father's sister's daughter, while wedlock with the equivalent cousin through his mother's sister is an enormity and a crime.
In short, among all men there is a recognition of certain groups within which murder, theft, and marriage are wrong. The extent and composition of the groups vary tremendously from people to people, but this variation is an accident of political or intellectual development, and in itself no index or effect of morality. . . .
We have seen the ethical ideals of different times and places to be highly colored by custom and by historical, economic, and intellectual surroundings, perhaps by natural environment even, although everywhere resting on the same basis and actuated by the same principles. There is also much variety in the terminology of the explanations given of morality. Of course religion has been particularly active here. In ancient Palestine Jehovah, the mountain, and the stone tablets were brought forward as a convincing argument, just as in native California Chungichnish with his associates the raven and the rattlesnake furnished the reason why we should be good rather than bad. Even when the ritualistic apparatus is passed by, or does not exist, there is a divergence of explanation, for a "child of nature" has neither the ideas nor the language of a dialectic thinker. And yet, after all, [Immanuel Kant,] the greatest philosopher since the Greeks, fell back, in the search for a basis of ethics, upon the "categorical imperative"; and it is doubtful whether in this conception, however satisfying it may be to our genuine and more advanced intellectual needs, he essentially transcended the American Indian's answer, to the question why a certain action is objectionable: "because it is bad." . . .
Nothing is more erroneous than the wide-spread idea and oft-repeated statement that the savage is only a child. In knowledge, to a certain extent in intellect even, he may not rank above the children of civilization; but in character, in emotions, and in morals, he is essentially and absolutely a man. . . . Men are men and essentially alike wherever born and however reared, and breadth of view uninfluenced by doctrinal purpose has always subscribed to this opinion. There is every reason to believe, accordingly, that uncivilized and civilized men practice what they respectively regard as virtue, to the same degree.
In short, the moral element in humanity is basically instinctive. If we believe in evolution from animals, we must find the source of human morality, as of human senses and emotions, in animal life. Being an inherent element of the human mind, it is psychologically unexplainable and finds its justification only in itself. As an integral constituent of man, it is common to all races in identical or virtually identical form. Variations in moral ideas are reflections of changes in civilization. As civilization, however, is something outside of race and independent of the human body; and as it affects only the body of knowledge possessed by a people and the actions connected with this knowledge, the principles of morality cannot be influenced by civilization, however the concrete expression of these principles may vary in their adaptation to particular forms of civilization. The apparent difference between the morality of savages and ourselves is therefore not really in the morality but in the civilization.
About the Author
Alfred L. Kroeber Alfred L. Kroeber was a major 20th-century U.S. anthropologist who gained particular fame for studying the language and customs of the Yahi people of California with the group's last surviving member, Ishi. An important anthropological researcher, theorist, and author, Kroeber influenced a generation of anthropologists from his post at the University of California and through his many published works. Among his most important contributions to the field are The Religion of the Indians of California (1907), Anthropology (1923), Handbook of the Indians of California (1925), Configurations of Culture Growth (1944), The Nature of Culture (1952), and Style and Civilizations (1957).
MLA Citation
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Page 13 of 15 Cultural Relativism
Activity
Inquiry Question Is our understanding of the world dependent on our culture?
The image at right shows Franz Boas, proponent of the idea of cultural relativism, demonstrating a ritual of the Hamatsa group of Canada's Kwakiutl people. Since European explorers first began to travel the wider world and came into contact with peoples and places with which they were wholly unfamiliar, scholars have attempted to make sense of the diversity of human society and activity. European traditions of catholicity—that some ideas, particularly religious ones, were universally applicable— led in part to colonial attempts to stamp out native cultures and assimilate all the people of the world into European belief systems. Many believed that non-European cultures were "primitive" or "backward" in their development, with Western civilization held up as the highest form of society and culture and the arbiter of what was true and right. As science came to explain more of the physical world, scholars sought to use scientific methods to study humans and their societies, often in an effort to develop rules for cultural evolution and to determine the "progress" of various groups.
Beginning in the late 1800s, however, a generation of anthropologists began to take a different view. This new generation, led by the groundbreaking ethnologist and polymath Boas, eschewed the ends of science and took a view previously confined to philosophy—that the subjective experiences of humans were dependent at least in part, if not entirely, upon their cultural environment. In an 1887 article on museums, Boas dropped a bombshell that would forever alter antropological study when he wrote about "the dissemination of the fact that civilization is not something absolute, but that it is relative, and that our ideas and conceptions are true only so far as our civilization goes." The field of cultural anthropology, the study of diverse cultures and worldviews on their own terms, developed from this seed, and today students the world over face the same question that Boas once asked himself: Is our understanding of the world around us dependent on our culture?
Background Information
Social Sciences The roots of the modern discipline of anthropology lie in the latter half of the 19th century, a time when the methods and aims of science were being applied to a diversity of subjects in an effort to establish the degree of certitude afforded to natural sciences like physics, biology, and chemistry. Essentially, it was thought that if scientific advances in physics could lead to engineering feats like suspension bridges and skyscrapers, then similar advances in the understanding of the human world should lead to more appropriate policies concerning society, government, and human endeavors. This followed the mid-19th century development of positivism—a term popularized by French philosopher and pioneering sociologist Auguste Comte—and "social sciences" began to emerge and grow in popularity. Earlier descriptions of non-Western peoples by travelers, missionaries, explorers, and scholars tended to be deductive—that is, conclusions were drawn logically by comparing particular evidence with one's existing assumptions, making judgments about specific things depending on larger preexisting judgments about their nature and place. In the positivist tradition of the social sciences, however, the first formal anthropologists hoped to use inductive reasoning—whereby conclusions are based upon observations of specific instances that may produce patterns that can be used to formulate more general rules—to uncover universal laws about societies and the human condition. Among the social sciences, the discipline of anthropology began to emerge as a positivist "study of man," particularly in the United Kingdom and United States.
Anthropologists of the late 19th and early 20th centuries undertook efforts to study, measure, document, and compare the various people of the world. Many early efforts were concerned primarily with laying the foundations for inductive study by performing fieldwork among various peoples around the world who were not well understood by Western scholars, gathering all sorts of data, from physical measurements of body parts to descriptions of their dress, customs, and living arrangements. Sociologists of the time, including important thinkers like émile Durkheim and Herbert Spencer, often used such data to explain and classify human societies based upon ideas from biology, describing them as repeating the sorts of functions, composition, and evolution observed in the natural world. At the same time, other scholars used the data to develop theories of societal evolution based upon the influential ideas of Charles Darwin, in some cases promoting a scientific racism that held physical and cultural differences to indicate the natural inferiority of certain groups. These ideas influenced, and were at times furthered by, many anthropologists of the era. Anthropology was thus intimately tied to both sociology and the natural sciences, and adopted elements of both; in fact, there was so much overlap that it is often difficult to differentiate them.
Building upon a general notion of societal evolution that had been popular since the 18th century and was bolstered by analogy to Darwinian evolution, it became increasingly fashionable to hold that human societies progress through a series of stages, from simple to complex, according to a variety of factors. Among the implications of this theory was that smaller, more exotic societies were evolutionarily backward or primitive and that Western society was superior in its more highly evolved complexities; in a sense, it was held that the relationship between the society and lifestyle of a British industrialist and that of a Papuan tribesman was akin to that between a human and a chimpanzee (or perhaps Cro Magnon man and Australopithecus). Armed with such conceptions, colonialism became a noble undertaking—the "White Man's Burden," as famously put by British author Rudyard Kipling in his 1899 poem by the same name— whereby Europeans "bettered" the "primitive" peoples of the world by introducing them to European ways and ideas. Such undertakings were further fueled by scientific racism sometimes based upon anthropologists' data.
Yet anthropological fieldwork also led to the evolution of the idea of culture. Once defined as the trappings of high civilization and set apart as a distinguishing factor between highly evolved societies and primitive ones, culture came to be defined more broadly by anthropologists as the collection of all customs and beliefs held by a particular group. U.S. anthropologist Lewis Henry Morgan and his British colleague Edward Burnett Tylor utilized this broader idea of culture to put forward theories of societal and cultural evolution, incorporating technology, religion, law, art, medical practices, and many other customs into their analyses. What emerged was a concept of culture as an all-encompassing summary of the many facets of life within a group. Various cultures could be compared, and many early anthropologists did just that, fashioning a comparative method that led rather directly to ideas of cultural evolution and progress. It was thought that anthropologists and sociologists could discover laws about societies and their evolution by comparing cultural data from groups across the world and finding patterns that would indicate the trajectory of that evolution.
The German-American anthropologist Franz Boas was among the first to openly question the comparative method. Boas believed that cultures were not necessarily comparable; in a sense, he found that comparing two unrelated cultures was like comparing two unrelated fruits—one can learn little about pineapples by examining apples, and it would be wrong to assume that an apple is just a primitive pineapple because the pineapple is larger and more apparently complex. Instead of the comparative method, Boas preferred a method, similar to that popular among historians at the time, that prioritized unbiased description placed within its proper context and discarded the need for laws governing general societal or cultural evolution. Eventually, Boas came to espouse an idea now known as cultural relativism, the cornerstone of which was the concept that a culture must be understood on its own terms, not as part of a larger theory or in relation to another culture. In order to perform ethnographic fieldwork properly, it was thus necessary for anthropologists to immerse themselves as much as possible in the culture they were studying. In this tradition, fieldwork was to be less like scientific labwork and more like method acting.
Boas proved to be enormously influential in the United States, and an entire generation of American anthropologists studied under him or one of his early protégés; he directly taught such important figures as Alfred Kroeber, Robert Lowie, Edward Sapir, Ruth Benedict, and Margaret Mead. Since this was also the formative period for many U.S. universities, these disciples founded and populated anthropology programs throughout the country and institutionalized their methods. Other anthropologists—notably the Englishman A.R. Radcliffe-Brown— attempted to salvage the scientific and comparative aspects of anthropology by focusing on analyses and taxonomies of cultural systems, but by the 1960s the original positivist ideal was maligned by most anthropologists. Today, the methods of cultural anthropology (or social anthropology in the United Kingdom) are still primarily based upon ideas of cultural relativism, and it is commonly taught that unbiased, context-sensitive work should be at the heart of anthropological endeavors. Each society presents its own subject matter, to be examined and conveyed to members of other societies and cultural groups, and the popularization of both the methods and results of anthropological work have allowed for a wider understanding of the true diversity of humankind.
Evan Brown
MLA Citation: Brown, Evan. "Social Sciences." World Geography: Understanding a Changing World, ABC-CLIO, 2021, worldgeography.abc-clio.com/Search/Display/1346358. Accessed 4 Oct. 2021. Source
Commentary
Excerpt from "The Mind of Primitive Man" (1901)
The activities of the mind manifest themselves in thoughts and actions, and exhibit an infinite variety of form among the peoples of the world. In order to understand these clearly, the student must endeavor to divest himself entirely of opinions and emotions based upon the peculiar social environment into which he is born. He must adapt his own mind, so far as feasible, to that of the people whom he is studying. The more successful he is in freeing himself from the bias based on the group of ideas that constitute the civilization in which he lives, the more successful he will be in interpreting the beliefs and actions of man. He must follow lines of thought that are new to him. He must participate in new emotions, and understand how, under unwonted conditions, both lead to actions. Beliefs, customs, and the response of the individual to the events of daily life, give us ample opportunity to observe the manifestations of the mind of man under varying conditions. . . .
In our own community a mass of observations and of thoughts is transmitted to the child. These thoughts are the result of careful observation and speculation of our present and of past generations; but they are transmitted to most individuals as traditional matter, much the same as folklore. The child associates new perceptions with this whole mass of traditional material, and interprets his observations by its means. I believe it is a mistake to assume that the interpretation made by each civilized individual is a complete logical process. We associate a phenomenon with a number of known facts, the interpretations of which are assumed as known, and we are satisfied with the reduction of a new fact to these previously known facts. For instance, if the average individual hears of the explosion of a previously unknown chemical, he is satisfied to reason that certain materials are known to have the property of exploding under proper conditions, and that consequently the unknown substance has the same quality. . . .
The instruction given to the child of primitive man is not based on centuries of experimentation, but consists of the crude experience of generations. When a new experience enters the mind of primitive man, the same process which we observe among civilized man brings about an entirely different series of associations, and therefore results in a different type of explanation. A sudden explosion will associate itself in his mind, perhaps, with tales which he has heard in regard to the mythical history of the world, and consequently will be accompanied by superstitious fear. When we recognize that, neither among civilized man nor among primitive man, the average individual carries to completion the attempt at causal explanation of phenomena, but carries it only so far as to amalgamate it with other previously known facts, we recognize that the result of the whole process depends entirely upon the character of the traditional material: herein lies the immense importance of folklore in determining the mode of thought. Herein lies particularly the enormous influence of current philosophic opinion upon the masses of the people, and herein lies the influence of the dominant scientific theory upon the character of scientific work.
It would be in vain to try to understand the development of modern science without an intelligent understanding of modern philosophy; it would be in vain to try to understand the history of medieval science without an intelligent knowledge of medieval theology; and so it is in vain to try to understand primitive science without an intelligent knowledge of primitive mythology. Mythology, theology and philosophy are different terms for the same influences which shape the current of human thought, and which determine the character of the attempts of man to explain the phenomena of nature. To primitive man—who has been taught to consider the heavenly orbs as animate beings, who sees in every animal a being more powerful than man, to whom the mountains, trees and stones are endowed with life—explanations of phenomena will suggest themselves entirely different from those to which we are accustomed, since we base our conclusions upon the existence of matter and force as bringing about the observed results. If we do not consider it possible to explain the whole range of phenomena as the result of matter and force alone, all our explanations of natural phenomena must take a different aspect.
In scientific inquiries we should always be clear in our own minds of the fact that we do not carry the analysis of any given phenomenon to completion; but that we always embody a number of hypotheses and theories in our explanations. In fact, if we were to do so, progress would hardly become possible, because every phenomenon would require an endless amount of time for thorough treatment. We are only too apt, however, to forget entirely the general, and, for most of us, purely traditional, theoretical basis which is the foundation of our reasoning, and to assume that the result of our reasoning is absolute truth. . . .
The influence of traditional material upon the life of man is not restricted to his thoughts, but manifests itself no less in his activities. . . . When we consider, for instance, the whole range of our daily life, we notice how strictly we are dependent upon tradition that can not be accounted for by any logical reasoning. We eat our three meals every day, and feel unhappy if we have to forego one of them. There is no physiological reason which demands three meals a day, and we find that many people are satisfied with two meals, while others enjoy four or even more. The range of animals and plants which we utilize for food is limited, and we have a decided aversion against eating dogs, or horses, or cats. There is certainly no objective reason for such aversion, since a great many people consider dogs and horses as dainties. . . . The whole range of actions that are considered as proper and improper can not be explained by any logical reason, but are almost all entirely due to custom; that is to say, they are purely traditional. This is even true of customs which excite strong emotions, as, for instance, those produced by infractions of modesty. . . .
No action can find the approval of a people which is fundamentally opposed to its customs and traditions. Among ourselves it is considered proper and a matter of course to treat the old with respect, for children to look after the welfare of their aged parents; and not to do so would be considered base ingratitude. Among the Eskimo we find an entirely different standard. It is required of children to kill their parents when they have become so old as to be helpless and no longer of any use to the family or to the community. It would be considered a breach of filial duty not to kill the aged parent. Revolting though this custom may seem to us, it is founded on an ethical law of the Eskimo, which rests on the whole mass of traditional lore and custom. . . .
It is somewhat difficult for us to recognize that the value which we attribute to our own civilization is due to the fact that we participate in this civilization, and that it has been controlling all our actions since the time of our birth; but it is certainly conceivable that there may be other civilizations, based perhaps on different traditions and on a different equilibrium of emotion and reason which are of no less value than ours, although it may be impossible for us to appreciate their values without having grown up under their influence.
About the Author
Franz Boas Franz Boas was a leading anthropologist in the United States during the late 19th and early 20th centuries. Sometimes referred to as the "father of American anthropology," Boas was among the most influential theorists, field researchers, and instructors of his era. His most important works include "The Limitations of the Comparative Method of Anthropology" (1896), The Mind of Primitive Man (in book form, as opposed to the earlier article by the same name; 1911), "Changes in the Bodily Form of the Descendants of Immigrants" (1912), "Mythology and Folktales of the North American Indians" (1914), Primitive Art (1927), and Race, Language, and Culture (1940).
Source
Commentary
Excerpt from Folkways (1906)
The folkways are the "right" ways to satisfy all interests, because they are traditional, and exist in fact. They extend over the whole of life. There is a right way to catch game, to win a wife, to make one's self appear, to cure disease, to honor ghosts, to treat comrades or strangers, to behave when a child is born, on the warpath, in council, and so on in all cases which can arise. . . . The "right" way is the way which the ancestors used and which has been handed down. The tradition is its own warrant. It is not held subject to verification by experience. The notion of right is in the folkways. It is not outside of them, of independent origin, and brought to them to test them. In the folkways, whatever is, is right. . . . "Rights" are the rules of mutual give and take in the competition of life which are imposed on comrades in the in-group, in order that the peace may prevail there which is essential to the group strength. Therefore rights can never be "natural" or "God-given," or absolute in any sense. The morality of a group at a time is the sum of the taboos and prescriptions in the folkways by which right conduct is defined. Therefore morals can never be intuitive. They are historical, institutional, and empirical.
World philosophy, life policy, right, rights, and morality are all products of the folkways. . . . The faith in the world philosophy drew lines outside of which the folkways must not go. Crude and vague notions of societal welfare were formed from the notion of pleasing the ghosts, and from such notions of expediency as the opinion that, if there were not children enough, there would not be warriors enough, or that, if there were too many children, the food supply would not be adequate. The notion of welfare was an inference and resultant from these mystic and utilitarian generalizations.
When the elements of truth and right are developed into doctrines of welfare, the folkways are raised to another plane. They then become capable of producing inferences, developing into new forms, and extending their constructive influence over men and society. Then we call them the mores. The mores are the folkways, including the philosophical and ethical generalizations as to societal welfare which are suggested by them, and inherent in them, as they grow. . . .
The mores come down to us from the past. Each individual is born into them as he is born into the atmosphere, and he does not reflect on them, or criticise them any more than a baby analyzes the atmosphere before he begins to breathe it. Each one is subjected to the influence of the mores, and formed by them, before he is capable of reasoning about them. . . . Nothing can ever change them but the unconscious and imperceptible movement of the mores. Religion was originally a matter of the mores. It became a societal institution and a function of the state. It has now to a great extent been put back into the mores. Since laws with penalties to enforce religious creeds or practices have gone out of use any one may think and act as he pleases about religion. . . . Democracy is in our American mores. It is a product of our physical and economic conditions. It is impossible to discuss or criticise it. It is glorified for popularity, and is a subject of dithyrambic rhetoric. No one treats it with complete candor and sincerity. No one dares to analyze it as he would aristocracy or autocracy. He would get no hearing and would only incur abuse. . . . The mores contain the norm by which, if we should discuss the mores, we should have to judge the mores. We learn the mores as unconsciously as we learn to walk and eat and breathe. The masses never learn how we walk, and eat, and breathe, and they never know any reason why the mores are what they are. The justification of them is that when we wake to consciousness of life we find them facts which already hold us in the bonds of tradition, custom, and habit. The mores contain embodied in them notions, doctrines, and maxims, but they are facts. They are in the present tense. They have nothing to do with what ought to be, will be, may be, or once was, if it is not now. . . .
A society does not record its mores in its annals, because they are to it unnoticed and unconscious. When we try to learn the mores of any age or people we have to seek our information in incidental references, allusions, observations of travelers, etc. Generally works of fiction, drama, etc., give us more information about the mores than historical records. . . . The mores are not recorded for the same reason that meals, going to bed, sunrise, etc., are not recorded, unless the regular course of things is broken.
We see that we must conceive of the mores as a vast system of usages, covering the whole of life, and serving all its interests; also containing in themselves their own justification by tradition and use and wont, and approved by mystic sanctions until, by rational reflection, they develop their own philosophical and ethical generalizations, which are elevated into "principles" of truth and right. They coerce and restrict the newborn generation. They do not stimulate to thought, but the contrary. The thinking is already done and is embodied in the mores. They never contain any provision for their own amendment. They are not questions, but answers, to the problem of life. They present themselves as final and unchangeable, because they present answers which are offered as "the truth." . . .
All the groups whose mores we consider far inferior to our own are quite as well satisfied with theirs as we are with ours. The goodness or badness of mores consists entirely in their adjustment to the life conditions and the interests of the time and place. Therefore it is a sign of ease and welfare when no thought is given to the mores, but all cooperate in them instinctively. . . .
At every turn we find new evidence that the mores can make anything right. What they do is that they cover a usage in dress, language, behavior, manners, etc., with the mantle of current custom, and give it regulation and limits within which it becomes unquestionable. The limit is generally a limit of toleration. . . . In regard to all social customs, the mores sanction them by defining them and giving them form. Such regulated customs are etiquette. The regulation by the mores always gives order and form, and thus surrounds life with limits within which we may and beyond which we may not pursue our interests (e.g., property and marriage). . . . The mores set the limits or define the disapproval. . . .
It cannot be doubted that, at any time, all ethical judgments are made through the atmosphere of the mores of the time. It is they which tell us what is right. It is only by high mental discipline that we can be trained to rise above that atmosphere and form rational judgments on current cases. This mental independence and ethical power are the highest products of education. They are also perilous. Our worst cranks are those who get the independence and power, but cannot stand alone and form correct judgments outside of the mores of the time and place. It must be remembered that the mores sometimes becloud the judgment, but they more often guide it.
About the Author
WIlliam Graham Sumner William Graham Sumner was an influential historian, economist, social scientist, critic, and teacher. Though often known primarily for his social Darwinist and free-market economic theories, he also wrote on a variety of other subjects, including cultural development and its effect on human societies. Among his many works are A History of American Currency (1874), What Social Classes Owe Each Other (1883), Protectionism (1885), The Financier and Finances of the American Revolution (1891), A History of Banking in All the Leading Nations (1896), Folkways (1906), and The Science of Society (1927).
Source
Commentary
Excerpt from "The Morals of Uncivilized People" (1910)
[H]owever great or small their power of reasoning, it is conceded that the mental endowment of all living beings lower than man is essentially if not altogether instinctive. . . . As there is nothing homologous to the rudest culture or civilization among even the highest animals, custom cannot materially influence them, and their equivalent of our morality must be entirely instinctive.
But when humanity is considered, the alleged distinction between the uncivilized and civilized races seems untrue. That any people, or any person even, has ever really regulated conduct by ideas or reason, is a delusion. The delusion is a common one because it is pleasing to flatter ourselves that our acts spring from purely rational motives. In fact, and of course, all real action precedes and determines intellectual reasoning, which, being analytical, cannot but be ex post facto [after the fact] and secondary. If this is true of ourselves, it obviously applies to people of less civilization, and must be a basic trait of all mankind, inherent in the constitution of human nature. . . .
There can be no doubt that the essential moral ideas of man spring from instinct. The repugnance toward murder, appropriation of the possessions of others, treachery, and want of hospitality, is based as little on considerations of social advantage or logical deductions as the sentiments are common to all races and times. The actions that are naturally the most abhorrent to everyone, such as cannibalism, incest, and lack of parental or filial devotion, are so thoroughly instinctive that these crimes have hardly had to be dealt with by most people, and their rarity and want of infectiousness are recognized in the frequent failure of creeds and codes to provide against them. Custom has further strengthened and shaped the inborn resentment we cherish against such actions, and custom has been variously modified by historical surroundings; but the source of the repugnance is purely unreasoning instinct. . . .
It is clear how these instincts could have arisen. In the animal world, they are, in the main, a necessity. The species that consumes itself, habitually inbreeds, or neglects its offspring, perishes. The unreasoning conditions of nature therefore have impressed strong aversions to such practices, or have suppressed the instincts toward them, in virtually all higher animals. From our animal ancestors we no doubt derive the same feelings; but as we are a "political animal," whose life is influenced by civilizational surroundings, and who is therefore apparently exempt from the operation of the laws of biological evolution, these inherited instincts may be entirely superfluous and useless to us. That in spite of this superfluity all men cling to them most tenaciously, reveals them to be only part of our blind natal make-up, as much so as the impulse that leads the dog to sacrifice himself for his master, the ant for her hill, the tigress for her young, and the salmon for his unborn progeny.
However, since man is constituted as a cultural being, his instincts must take shape according to his civilization. Hence there exist, in distant times and places, wide divergences or even contradictions of moral teaching, though the moral impulses are always the same.
To kill a stranger is often no crime, where society is organized on a restricted local basis, because the stranger is an enemy. Yet people who proclaim and practice this doctrine are no more given to murder among themselves than we are who justify only the shooting of an admitted national foe. The horizon is different in the two cases, the mental and social environments diverse, the scale of judgment various; but the principles according to which men determine whether a killing is a dastardly murder or an act of patriotic merit, are identical.
In the same way, the definitions of different nations as to what constitutes incest are as variable as their condemnation of the crime is universal. Some modern civilized people are shocked at marriage between uncle and niece, more tolerate cousin-marriage, but nearly all American Indians revolt at both. Until the most recent years Englishmen broke the law of their land if a woman succeeded her dead sister as wife; among innumerable nations the dead husband's brother feels it his duty to wed his sister-in-law. There are Australian tribes today among whom the woman that it is a man's duty to marry is his father's sister's daughter, while wedlock with the equivalent cousin through his mother's sister is an enormity and a crime.
In short, among all men there is a recognition of certain groups within which murder, theft, and marriage are wrong. The extent and composition of the groups vary tremendously from people to people, but this variation is an accident of political or intellectual development, and in itself no index or effect of morality. . . .
We have seen the ethical ideals of different times and places to be highly colored by custom and by historical, economic, and intellectual surroundings, perhaps by natural environment even, although everywhere resting on the same basis and actuated by the same principles. There is also much variety in the terminology of the explanations given of morality. Of course religion has been particularly active here. In ancient Palestine Jehovah, the mountain, and the stone tablets were brought forward as a convincing argument, just as in native California Chungichnish with his associates the raven and the rattlesnake furnished the reason why we should be good rather than bad. Even when the ritualistic apparatus is passed by, or does not exist, there is a divergence of explanation, for a "child of nature" has neither the ideas nor the language of a dialectic thinker. And yet, after all, [Immanuel Kant,] the greatest philosopher since the Greeks, fell back, in the search for a basis of ethics, upon the "categorical imperative"; and it is doubtful whether in this conception, however satisfying it may be to our genuine and more advanced intellectual needs, he essentially transcended the American Indian's answer, to the question why a certain action is objectionable: "because it is bad." . . .
Nothing is more erroneous than the wide-spread idea and oft-repeated statement that the savage is only a child. In knowledge, to a certain extent in intellect even, he may not rank above the children of civilization; but in character, in emotions, and in morals, he is essentially and absolutely a man. . . . Men are men and essentially alike wherever born and however reared, and breadth of view uninfluenced by doctrinal purpose has always subscribed to this opinion. There is every reason to believe, accordingly, that uncivilized and civilized men practice what they respectively regard as virtue, to the same degree.
In short, the moral element in humanity is basically instinctive. If we believe in evolution from animals, we must find the source of human morality, as of human senses and emotions, in animal life. Being an inherent element of the human mind, it is psychologically unexplainable and finds its justification only in itself. As an integral constituent of man, it is common to all races in identical or virtually identical form. Variations in moral ideas are reflections of changes in civilization. As civilization, however, is something outside of race and independent of the human body; and as it affects only the body of knowledge possessed by a people and the actions connected with this knowledge, the principles of morality cannot be influenced by civilization, however the concrete expression of these principles may vary in their adaptation to particular forms of civilization. The apparent difference between the morality of savages and ourselves is therefore not really in the morality but in the civilization.
About the Author
Alfred L. Kroeber Alfred L. Kroeber was a major 20th-century U.S. anthropologist who gained particular fame for studying the language and customs of the Yahi people of California with the group's last surviving member, Ishi. An important anthropological researcher, theorist, and author, Kroeber influenced a generation of anthropologists from his post at the University of California and through his many published works. Among his most important contributions to the field are The Religion of the Indians of California (1907), Anthropology (1923), Handbook of the Indians of California (1925), Configurations of Culture Growth (1944), The Nature of Culture (1952), and Style and Civilizations (1957).
MLA Citation
"International Activity: Is Our Understanding of the World Dependent on Our Culture?" World Geography: Understanding a Changing World, ABC-CLIO, 2021, worldgeography.abc- clio.com/Support/InvestigateActivity/1346356. Accessed 4 Oct. 2021.
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Page 14 of 15 Cultural Relativism
Activity
Inquiry Question Is our understanding of the world dependent on our culture?
The image at right shows Franz Boas, proponent of the idea of cultural relativism, demonstrating a ritual of the Hamatsa group of Canada's Kwakiutl people. Since European explorers first began to travel the wider world and came into contact with peoples and places with which they were wholly unfamiliar, scholars have attempted to make sense of the diversity of human society and activity. European traditions of catholicity—that some ideas, particularly religious ones, were universally applicable— led in part to colonial attempts to stamp out native cultures and assimilate all the people of the world into European belief systems. Many believed that non-European cultures were "primitive" or "backward" in their development, with Western civilization held up as the highest form of society and culture and the arbiter of what was true and right. As science came to explain more of the physical world, scholars sought to use scientific methods to study humans and their societies, often in an effort to develop rules for cultural evolution and to determine the "progress" of various groups.
Beginning in the late 1800s, however, a generation of anthropologists began to take a different view. This new generation, led by the groundbreaking ethnologist and polymath Boas, eschewed the ends of science and took a view previously confined to philosophy—that the subjective experiences of humans were dependent at least in part, if not entirely, upon their cultural environment. In an 1887 article on museums, Boas dropped a bombshell that would forever alter antropological study when he wrote about "the dissemination of the fact that civilization is not something absolute, but that it is relative, and that our ideas and conceptions are true only so far as our civilization goes." The field of cultural anthropology, the study of diverse cultures and worldviews on their own terms, developed from this seed, and today students the world over face the same question that Boas once asked himself: Is our understanding of the world around us dependent on our culture?
Background Information
Social Sciences The roots of the modern discipline of anthropology lie in the latter half of the 19th century, a time when the methods and aims of science were being applied to a diversity of subjects in an effort to establish the degree of certitude afforded to natural sciences like physics, biology, and chemistry. Essentially, it was thought that if scientific advances in physics could lead to engineering feats like suspension bridges and skyscrapers, then similar advances in the understanding of the human world should lead to more appropriate policies concerning society, government, and human endeavors. This followed the mid-19th century development of positivism—a term popularized by French philosopher and pioneering sociologist Auguste Comte—and "social sciences" began to emerge and grow in popularity. Earlier descriptions of non-Western peoples by travelers, missionaries, explorers, and scholars tended to be deductive—that is, conclusions were drawn logically by comparing particular evidence with one's existing assumptions, making judgments about specific things depending on larger preexisting judgments about their nature and place. In the positivist tradition of the social sciences, however, the first formal anthropologists hoped to use inductive reasoning—whereby conclusions are based upon observations of specific instances that may produce patterns that can be used to formulate more general rules—to uncover universal laws about societies and the human condition. Among the social sciences, the discipline of anthropology began to emerge as a positivist "study of man," particularly in the United Kingdom and United States.
Anthropologists of the late 19th and early 20th centuries undertook efforts to study, measure, document, and compare the various people of the world. Many early efforts were concerned primarily with laying the foundations for inductive study by performing fieldwork among various peoples around the world who were not well understood by Western scholars, gathering all sorts of data, from physical measurements of body parts to descriptions of their dress, customs, and living arrangements. Sociologists of the time, including important thinkers like émile Durkheim and Herbert Spencer, often used such data to explain and classify human societies based upon ideas from biology, describing them as repeating the sorts of functions, composition, and evolution observed in the natural world. At the same time, other scholars used the data to develop theories of societal evolution based upon the influential ideas of Charles Darwin, in some cases promoting a scientific racism that held physical and cultural differences to indicate the natural inferiority of certain groups. These ideas influenced, and were at times furthered by, many anthropologists of the era. Anthropology was thus intimately tied to both sociology and the natural sciences, and adopted elements of both; in fact, there was so much overlap that it is often difficult to differentiate them.
Building upon a general notion of societal evolution that had been popular since the 18th century and was bolstered by analogy to Darwinian evolution, it became increasingly fashionable to hold that human societies progress through a series of stages, from simple to complex, according to a variety of factors. Among the implications of this theory was that smaller, more exotic societies were evolutionarily backward or primitive and that Western society was superior in its more highly evolved complexities; in a sense, it was held that the relationship between the society and lifestyle of a British industrialist and that of a Papuan tribesman was akin to that between a human and a chimpanzee (or perhaps Cro Magnon man and Australopithecus). Armed with such conceptions, colonialism became a noble undertaking—the "White Man's Burden," as famously put by British author Rudyard Kipling in his 1899 poem by the same name— whereby Europeans "bettered" the "primitive" peoples of the world by introducing them to European ways and ideas. Such undertakings were further fueled by scientific racism sometimes based upon anthropologists' data.
Yet anthropological fieldwork also led to the evolution of the idea of culture. Once defined as the trappings of high civilization and set apart as a distinguishing factor between highly evolved societies and primitive ones, culture came to be defined more broadly by anthropologists as the collection of all customs and beliefs held by a particular group. U.S. anthropologist Lewis Henry Morgan and his British colleague Edward Burnett Tylor utilized this broader idea of culture to put forward theories of societal and cultural evolution, incorporating technology, religion, law, art, medical practices, and many other customs into their analyses. What emerged was a concept of culture as an all-encompassing summary of the many facets of life within a group. Various cultures could be compared, and many early anthropologists did just that, fashioning a comparative method that led rather directly to ideas of cultural evolution and progress. It was thought that anthropologists and sociologists could discover laws about societies and their evolution by comparing cultural data from groups across the world and finding patterns that would indicate the trajectory of that evolution.
The German-American anthropologist Franz Boas was among the first to openly question the comparative method. Boas believed that cultures were not necessarily comparable; in a sense, he found that comparing two unrelated cultures was like comparing two unrelated fruits—one can learn little about pineapples by examining apples, and it would be wrong to assume that an apple is just a primitive pineapple because the pineapple is larger and more apparently complex. Instead of the comparative method, Boas preferred a method, similar to that popular among historians at the time, that prioritized unbiased description placed within its proper context and discarded the need for laws governing general societal or cultural evolution. Eventually, Boas came to espouse an idea now known as cultural relativism, the cornerstone of which was the concept that a culture must be understood on its own terms, not as part of a larger theory or in relation to another culture. In order to perform ethnographic fieldwork properly, it was thus necessary for anthropologists to immerse themselves as much as possible in the culture they were studying. In this tradition, fieldwork was to be less like scientific labwork and more like method acting.
Boas proved to be enormously influential in the United States, and an entire generation of American anthropologists studied under him or one of his early protégés; he directly taught such important figures as Alfred Kroeber, Robert Lowie, Edward Sapir, Ruth Benedict, and Margaret Mead. Since this was also the formative period for many U.S. universities, these disciples founded and populated anthropology programs throughout the country and institutionalized their methods. Other anthropologists—notably the Englishman A.R. Radcliffe-Brown— attempted to salvage the scientific and comparative aspects of anthropology by focusing on analyses and taxonomies of cultural systems, but by the 1960s the original positivist ideal was maligned by most anthropologists. Today, the methods of cultural anthropology (or social anthropology in the United Kingdom) are still primarily based upon ideas of cultural relativism, and it is commonly taught that unbiased, context-sensitive work should be at the heart of anthropological endeavors. Each society presents its own subject matter, to be examined and conveyed to members of other societies and cultural groups, and the popularization of both the methods and results of anthropological work have allowed for a wider understanding of the true diversity of humankind.
Evan Brown
MLA Citation: Brown, Evan. "Social Sciences." World Geography: Understanding a Changing World, ABC-CLIO, 2021, worldgeography.abc-clio.com/Search/Display/1346358. Accessed 4 Oct. 2021. Source
Commentary
Excerpt from "The Mind of Primitive Man" (1901)
The activities of the mind manifest themselves in thoughts and actions, and exhibit an infinite variety of form among the peoples of the world. In order to understand these clearly, the student must endeavor to divest himself entirely of opinions and emotions based upon the peculiar social environment into which he is born. He must adapt his own mind, so far as feasible, to that of the people whom he is studying. The more successful he is in freeing himself from the bias based on the group of ideas that constitute the civilization in which he lives, the more successful he will be in interpreting the beliefs and actions of man. He must follow lines of thought that are new to him. He must participate in new emotions, and understand how, under unwonted conditions, both lead to actions. Beliefs, customs, and the response of the individual to the events of daily life, give us ample opportunity to observe the manifestations of the mind of man under varying conditions. . . .
In our own community a mass of observations and of thoughts is transmitted to the child. These thoughts are the result of careful observation and speculation of our present and of past generations; but they are transmitted to most individuals as traditional matter, much the same as folklore. The child associates new perceptions with this whole mass of traditional material, and interprets his observations by its means. I believe it is a mistake to assume that the interpretation made by each civilized individual is a complete logical process. We associate a phenomenon with a number of known facts, the interpretations of which are assumed as known, and we are satisfied with the reduction of a new fact to these previously known facts. For instance, if the average individual hears of the explosion of a previously unknown chemical, he is satisfied to reason that certain materials are known to have the property of exploding under proper conditions, and that consequently the unknown substance has the same quality. . . .
The instruction given to the child of primitive man is not based on centuries of experimentation, but consists of the crude experience of generations. When a new experience enters the mind of primitive man, the same process which we observe among civilized man brings about an entirely different series of associations, and therefore results in a different type of explanation. A sudden explosion will associate itself in his mind, perhaps, with tales which he has heard in regard to the mythical history of the world, and consequently will be accompanied by superstitious fear. When we recognize that, neither among civilized man nor among primitive man, the average individual carries to completion the attempt at causal explanation of phenomena, but carries it only so far as to amalgamate it with other previously known facts, we recognize that the result of the whole process depends entirely upon the character of the traditional material: herein lies the immense importance of folklore in determining the mode of thought. Herein lies particularly the enormous influence of current philosophic opinion upon the masses of the people, and herein lies the influence of the dominant scientific theory upon the character of scientific work.
It would be in vain to try to understand the development of modern science without an intelligent understanding of modern philosophy; it would be in vain to try to understand the history of medieval science without an intelligent knowledge of medieval theology; and so it is in vain to try to understand primitive science without an intelligent knowledge of primitive mythology. Mythology, theology and philosophy are different terms for the same influences which shape the current of human thought, and which determine the character of the attempts of man to explain the phenomena of nature. To primitive man—who has been taught to consider the heavenly orbs as animate beings, who sees in every animal a being more powerful than man, to whom the mountains, trees and stones are endowed with life—explanations of phenomena will suggest themselves entirely different from those to which we are accustomed, since we base our conclusions upon the existence of matter and force as bringing about the observed results. If we do not consider it possible to explain the whole range of phenomena as the result of matter and force alone, all our explanations of natural phenomena must take a different aspect.
In scientific inquiries we should always be clear in our own minds of the fact that we do not carry the analysis of any given phenomenon to completion; but that we always embody a number of hypotheses and theories in our explanations. In fact, if we were to do so, progress would hardly become possible, because every phenomenon would require an endless amount of time for thorough treatment. We are only too apt, however, to forget entirely the general, and, for most of us, purely traditional, theoretical basis which is the foundation of our reasoning, and to assume that the result of our reasoning is absolute truth. . . .
The influence of traditional material upon the life of man is not restricted to his thoughts, but manifests itself no less in his activities. . . . When we consider, for instance, the whole range of our daily life, we notice how strictly we are dependent upon tradition that can not be accounted for by any logical reasoning. We eat our three meals every day, and feel unhappy if we have to forego one of them. There is no physiological reason which demands three meals a day, and we find that many people are satisfied with two meals, while others enjoy four or even more. The range of animals and plants which we utilize for food is limited, and we have a decided aversion against eating dogs, or horses, or cats. There is certainly no objective reason for such aversion, since a great many people consider dogs and horses as dainties. . . . The whole range of actions that are considered as proper and improper can not be explained by any logical reason, but are almost all entirely due to custom; that is to say, they are purely traditional. This is even true of customs which excite strong emotions, as, for instance, those produced by infractions of modesty. . . .
No action can find the approval of a people which is fundamentally opposed to its customs and traditions. Among ourselves it is considered proper and a matter of course to treat the old with respect, for children to look after the welfare of their aged parents; and not to do so would be considered base ingratitude. Among the Eskimo we find an entirely different standard. It is required of children to kill their parents when they have become so old as to be helpless and no longer of any use to the family or to the community. It would be considered a breach of filial duty not to kill the aged parent. Revolting though this custom may seem to us, it is founded on an ethical law of the Eskimo, which rests on the whole mass of traditional lore and custom. . . .
It is somewhat difficult for us to recognize that the value which we attribute to our own civilization is due to the fact that we participate in this civilization, and that it has been controlling all our actions since the time of our birth; but it is certainly conceivable that there may be other civilizations, based perhaps on different traditions and on a different equilibrium of emotion and reason which are of no less value than ours, although it may be impossible for us to appreciate their values without having grown up under their influence.
About the Author
Franz Boas Franz Boas was a leading anthropologist in the United States during the late 19th and early 20th centuries. Sometimes referred to as the "father of American anthropology," Boas was among the most influential theorists, field researchers, and instructors of his era. His most important works include "The Limitations of the Comparative Method of Anthropology" (1896), The Mind of Primitive Man (in book form, as opposed to the earlier article by the same name; 1911), "Changes in the Bodily Form of the Descendants of Immigrants" (1912), "Mythology and Folktales of the North American Indians" (1914), Primitive Art (1927), and Race, Language, and Culture (1940).
Source
Commentary
Excerpt from Folkways (1906)
The folkways are the "right" ways to satisfy all interests, because they are traditional, and exist in fact. They extend over the whole of life. There is a right way to catch game, to win a wife, to make one's self appear, to cure disease, to honor ghosts, to treat comrades or strangers, to behave when a child is born, on the warpath, in council, and so on in all cases which can arise. . . . The "right" way is the way which the ancestors used and which has been handed down. The tradition is its own warrant. It is not held subject to verification by experience. The notion of right is in the folkways. It is not outside of them, of independent origin, and brought to them to test them. In the folkways, whatever is, is right. . . . "Rights" are the rules of mutual give and take in the competition of life which are imposed on comrades in the in-group, in order that the peace may prevail there which is essential to the group strength. Therefore rights can never be "natural" or "God-given," or absolute in any sense. The morality of a group at a time is the sum of the taboos and prescriptions in the folkways by which right conduct is defined. Therefore morals can never be intuitive. They are historical, institutional, and empirical.
World philosophy, life policy, right, rights, and morality are all products of the folkways. . . . The faith in the world philosophy drew lines outside of which the folkways must not go. Crude and vague notions of societal welfare were formed from the notion of pleasing the ghosts, and from such notions of expediency as the opinion that, if there were not children enough, there would not be warriors enough, or that, if there were too many children, the food supply would not be adequate. The notion of welfare was an inference and resultant from these mystic and utilitarian generalizations.
When the elements of truth and right are developed into doctrines of welfare, the folkways are raised to another plane. They then become capable of producing inferences, developing into new forms, and extending their constructive influence over men and society. Then we call them the mores. The mores are the folkways, including the philosophical and ethical generalizations as to societal welfare which are suggested by them, and inherent in them, as they grow. . . .
The mores come down to us from the past. Each individual is born into them as he is born into the atmosphere, and he does not reflect on them, or criticise them any more than a baby analyzes the atmosphere before he begins to breathe it. Each one is subjected to the influence of the mores, and formed by them, before he is capable of reasoning about them. . . . Nothing can ever change them but the unconscious and imperceptible movement of the mores. Religion was originally a matter of the mores. It became a societal institution and a function of the state. It has now to a great extent been put back into the mores. Since laws with penalties to enforce religious creeds or practices have gone out of use any one may think and act as he pleases about religion. . . . Democracy is in our American mores. It is a product of our physical and economic conditions. It is impossible to discuss or criticise it. It is glorified for popularity, and is a subject of dithyrambic rhetoric. No one treats it with complete candor and sincerity. No one dares to analyze it as he would aristocracy or autocracy. He would get no hearing and would only incur abuse. . . . The mores contain the norm by which, if we should discuss the mores, we should have to judge the mores. We learn the mores as unconsciously as we learn to walk and eat and breathe. The masses never learn how we walk, and eat, and breathe, and they never know any reason why the mores are what they are. The justification of them is that when we wake to consciousness of life we find them facts which already hold us in the bonds of tradition, custom, and habit. The mores contain embodied in them notions, doctrines, and maxims, but they are facts. They are in the present tense. They have nothing to do with what ought to be, will be, may be, or once was, if it is not now. . . .
A society does not record its mores in its annals, because they are to it unnoticed and unconscious. When we try to learn the mores of any age or people we have to seek our information in incidental references, allusions, observations of travelers, etc. Generally works of fiction, drama, etc., give us more information about the mores than historical records. . . . The mores are not recorded for the same reason that meals, going to bed, sunrise, etc., are not recorded, unless the regular course of things is broken.
We see that we must conceive of the mores as a vast system of usages, covering the whole of life, and serving all its interests; also containing in themselves their own justification by tradition and use and wont, and approved by mystic sanctions until, by rational reflection, they develop their own philosophical and ethical generalizations, which are elevated into "principles" of truth and right. They coerce and restrict the newborn generation. They do not stimulate to thought, but the contrary. The thinking is already done and is embodied in the mores. They never contain any provision for their own amendment. They are not questions, but answers, to the problem of life. They present themselves as final and unchangeable, because they present answers which are offered as "the truth." . . .
All the groups whose mores we consider far inferior to our own are quite as well satisfied with theirs as we are with ours. The goodness or badness of mores consists entirely in their adjustment to the life conditions and the interests of the time and place. Therefore it is a sign of ease and welfare when no thought is given to the mores, but all cooperate in them instinctively. . . .
At every turn we find new evidence that the mores can make anything right. What they do is that they cover a usage in dress, language, behavior, manners, etc., with the mantle of current custom, and give it regulation and limits within which it becomes unquestionable. The limit is generally a limit of toleration. . . . In regard to all social customs, the mores sanction them by defining them and giving them form. Such regulated customs are etiquette. The regulation by the mores always gives order and form, and thus surrounds life with limits within which we may and beyond which we may not pursue our interests (e.g., property and marriage). . . . The mores set the limits or define the disapproval. . . .
It cannot be doubted that, at any time, all ethical judgments are made through the atmosphere of the mores of the time. It is they which tell us what is right. It is only by high mental discipline that we can be trained to rise above that atmosphere and form rational judgments on current cases. This mental independence and ethical power are the highest products of education. They are also perilous. Our worst cranks are those who get the independence and power, but cannot stand alone and form correct judgments outside of the mores of the time and place. It must be remembered that the mores sometimes becloud the judgment, but they more often guide it.
About the Author
WIlliam Graham Sumner William Graham Sumner was an influential historian, economist, social scientist, critic, and teacher. Though often known primarily for his social Darwinist and free-market economic theories, he also wrote on a variety of other subjects, including cultural development and its effect on human societies. Among his many works are A History of American Currency (1874), What Social Classes Owe Each Other (1883), Protectionism (1885), The Financier and Finances of the American Revolution (1891), A History of Banking in All the Leading Nations (1896), Folkways (1906), and The Science of Society (1927).
Source
Commentary
Excerpt from "The Morals of Uncivilized People" (1910)
[H]owever great or small their power of reasoning, it is conceded that the mental endowment of all living beings lower than man is essentially if not altogether instinctive. . . . As there is nothing homologous to the rudest culture or civilization among even the highest animals, custom cannot materially influence them, and their equivalent of our morality must be entirely instinctive.
But when humanity is considered, the alleged distinction between the uncivilized and civilized races seems untrue. That any people, or any person even, has ever really regulated conduct by ideas or reason, is a delusion. The delusion is a common one because it is pleasing to flatter ourselves that our acts spring from purely rational motives. In fact, and of course, all real action precedes and determines intellectual reasoning, which, being analytical, cannot but be ex post facto [after the fact] and secondary. If this is true of ourselves, it obviously applies to people of less civilization, and must be a basic trait of all mankind, inherent in the constitution of human nature. . . .
There can be no doubt that the essential moral ideas of man spring from instinct. The repugnance toward murder, appropriation of the possessions of others, treachery, and want of hospitality, is based as little on considerations of social advantage or logical deductions as the sentiments are common to all races and times. The actions that are naturally the most abhorrent to everyone, such as cannibalism, incest, and lack of parental or filial devotion, are so thoroughly instinctive that these crimes have hardly had to be dealt with by most people, and their rarity and want of infectiousness are recognized in the frequent failure of creeds and codes to provide against them. Custom has further strengthened and shaped the inborn resentment we cherish against such actions, and custom has been variously modified by historical surroundings; but the source of the repugnance is purely unreasoning instinct. . . .
It is clear how these instincts could have arisen. In the animal world, they are, in the main, a necessity. The species that consumes itself, habitually inbreeds, or neglects its offspring, perishes. The unreasoning conditions of nature therefore have impressed strong aversions to such practices, or have suppressed the instincts toward them, in virtually all higher animals. From our animal ancestors we no doubt derive the same feelings; but as we are a "political animal," whose life is influenced by civilizational surroundings, and who is therefore apparently exempt from the operation of the laws of biological evolution, these inherited instincts may be entirely superfluous and useless to us. That in spite of this superfluity all men cling to them most tenaciously, reveals them to be only part of our blind natal make-up, as much so as the impulse that leads the dog to sacrifice himself for his master, the ant for her hill, the tigress for her young, and the salmon for his unborn progeny.
However, since man is constituted as a cultural being, his instincts must take shape according to his civilization. Hence there exist, in distant times and places, wide divergences or even contradictions of moral teaching, though the moral impulses are always the same.
To kill a stranger is often no crime, where society is organized on a restricted local basis, because the stranger is an enemy. Yet people who proclaim and practice this doctrine are no more given to murder among themselves than we are who justify only the shooting of an admitted national foe. The horizon is different in the two cases, the mental and social environments diverse, the scale of judgment various; but the principles according to which men determine whether a killing is a dastardly murder or an act of patriotic merit, are identical.
In the same way, the definitions of different nations as to what constitutes incest are as variable as their condemnation of the crime is universal. Some modern civilized people are shocked at marriage between uncle and niece, more tolerate cousin-marriage, but nearly all American Indians revolt at both. Until the most recent years Englishmen broke the law of their land if a woman succeeded her dead sister as wife; among innumerable nations the dead husband's brother feels it his duty to wed his sister-in-law. There are Australian tribes today among whom the woman that it is a man's duty to marry is his father's sister's daughter, while wedlock with the equivalent cousin through his mother's sister is an enormity and a crime.
In short, among all men there is a recognition of certain groups within which murder, theft, and marriage are wrong. The extent and composition of the groups vary tremendously from people to people, but this variation is an accident of political or intellectual development, and in itself no index or effect of morality. . . .
We have seen the ethical ideals of different times and places to be highly colored by custom and by historical, economic, and intellectual surroundings, perhaps by natural environment even, although everywhere resting on the same basis and actuated by the same principles. There is also much variety in the terminology of the explanations given of morality. Of course religion has been particularly active here. In ancient Palestine Jehovah, the mountain, and the stone tablets were brought forward as a convincing argument, just as in native California Chungichnish with his associates the raven and the rattlesnake furnished the reason why we should be good rather than bad. Even when the ritualistic apparatus is passed by, or does not exist, there is a divergence of explanation, for a "child of nature" has neither the ideas nor the language of a dialectic thinker. And yet, after all, [Immanuel Kant,] the greatest philosopher since the Greeks, fell back, in the search for a basis of ethics, upon the "categorical imperative"; and it is doubtful whether in this conception, however satisfying it may be to our genuine and more advanced intellectual needs, he essentially transcended the American Indian's answer, to the question why a certain action is objectionable: "because it is bad." . . .
Nothing is more erroneous than the wide-spread idea and oft-repeated statement that the savage is only a child. In knowledge, to a certain extent in intellect even, he may not rank above the children of civilization; but in character, in emotions, and in morals, he is essentially and absolutely a man. . . . Men are men and essentially alike wherever born and however reared, and breadth of view uninfluenced by doctrinal purpose has always subscribed to this opinion. There is every reason to believe, accordingly, that uncivilized and civilized men practice what they respectively regard as virtue, to the same degree.
In short, the moral element in humanity is basically instinctive. If we believe in evolution from animals, we must find the source of human morality, as of human senses and emotions, in animal life. Being an inherent element of the human mind, it is psychologically unexplainable and finds its justification only in itself. As an integral constituent of man, it is common to all races in identical or virtually identical form. Variations in moral ideas are reflections of changes in civilization. As civilization, however, is something outside of race and independent of the human body; and as it affects only the body of knowledge possessed by a people and the actions connected with this knowledge, the principles of morality cannot be influenced by civilization, however the concrete expression of these principles may vary in their adaptation to particular forms of civilization. The apparent difference between the morality of savages and ourselves is therefore not really in the morality but in the civilization.
About the Author
Alfred L. Kroeber Alfred L. Kroeber was a major 20th-century U.S. anthropologist who gained particular fame for studying the language and customs of the Yahi people of California with the group's last surviving member, Ishi. An important anthropological researcher, theorist, and author, Kroeber influenced a generation of anthropologists from his post at the University of California and through his many published works. Among his most important contributions to the field are The Religion of the Indians of California (1907), Anthropology (1923), Handbook of the Indians of California (1925), Configurations of Culture Growth (1944), The Nature of Culture (1952), and Style and Civilizations (1957).
MLA Citation
"International Activity: Is Our Understanding of the World Dependent on Our Culture?" World Geography: Understanding a Changing World, ABC-CLIO, 2021, worldgeography.abc- clio.com/Support/InvestigateActivity/1346356. Accessed 4 Oct. 2021.
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Was Aaron Burr a Traitor? WasCultural Aaron BurrRelativism a Traitor? Collect Identify and Perspective Organize Information or Bias Present your own argument claiming whether or not Aaron Burr \ a traitor Present your own argument claiming whether or not Aaron Burr was a traitor Inquiry Question Read the three excerpts written by notable early anthropologists. Then, Inquiry Question to the U.S. Inquiry Question interpretto the U.S. their commentaries to explain their views about the extent to which our culture affects our understanding of the larger world.
Type 2-col, 1 row table Type 2-col, 1 row table HeadingsType ColumnTable-3x1 Headings: Evidence: Guilty, Evidence: Innocent. Headings BoasColumn Headings: Evidence:Sumner Guilty, Evidence: Innocent. Kroeber OtherHeadings Notes there'sColumn too Headings: much evidence Boas, Sumner, on either Kroeber side for the #7 layout to cover it all Other Notes there's too much evidence on either side for the #7 layout to cover it all Other Notes
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Inquiry Question Is our understanding of the world dependent on our culture?
Response
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