Saturday, March 17, 2012

“Exotics at Home” is an unorthodox blog on Anthropology, and other sophisticated matters



                                                      “Abstract”
“Evil Tongue” is not a research paper and this concise text is not really an abstract. Instead “Evil Tongue” is a short “spicy” essay written in the bizarre format of an imaginary monologue, which hopes to become a real and honest dialogue. The paper discusses several sensitive issues in anthropology and aims to reach both: anthropologists and inquisitive non-anthropologists. The essay is not a work of misanthropy (as the title deceives), but rather an attempt of philanthropy and trust in the human potential for positive changes. 
                                                          
                                                 Evil Tongue

This essay is about everyone who, in the process of reasoning, consumes “mind food.” Because it is about everyone who reasons, instead of writing a flimsy “standard intro” to this paper (which is also about some of my most ardent questions and dilemmas in anthropology), I decided to challenge my “standard” suffocating writing routine, and begin this essay by asking myself 13 tough questions to which I give a couple of straightforward answers. In all its roughness and unusual format (which I am aware of), this essay is very significant: it synthesizes two years of my inner existential and intellectual struggles. In this wrestle to find meaningful answers to both existential and intellectual dilemmas, anthropology has proven essential. It has provided me with valuable answers to some of my questions, has given sense and meaning to my intellectual life, and has opened the door for a multitude of other (even tougher) questions. The motivation to write this essay in an “unorthodox” format is rooted in the struggle to make sense of my own existence, both in and out of anthropology. This struggle makes this work very personal indeed.
This essay is not only about substantial questions; it attempts to provide some relevant answers to at least a few of those big annoying questions that haunt me as well as probably the majority of humans. I am aware of the fact that some people in and out of the discipline of anthropology may label my questions as “anti-this and that.” Some might even take my essay personally. This is exactly my intention—the more personally, the better! Though I want to be taken personally, it is my wish to do so without challenging people per sé, but rather some of their ideas. Aware that I might offend egos, my fundamental concern in this essay is concern with the truth (Frankfurt, 30). In spite of it starting as an “undisciplined” monologue, I wish my essay would not be perceived as a useless intellectual exercise, or a “to be aborted” intellectual attempt. Instead, I hope that this work is also a dialogue, though—due to circumstances—a dialogue in absentia. Being an unusual form of “conversation,” it is not a lesser dialogue or a futile intellectual endeavor. On the contrary, the “in absentia” component makes it even more relevant. Though essentially targeting anthropology, it is my hope that this paper is significant enough to reach beyond it to the “real world,” and thus connect with the raw life of the people that anthropology claims to be about. Especially because of this claim the people have the right to know what does this discipline means. It is the unavoidability of some of the “big issues” that I am addressing here, which makes my essay relevant for both-anthropologists and non-anthropologists alike. 
Question One: Why haven’t you published anything (yet) in Anthropology? Aren’t you supposed to?
I lost my blind faith in Anthropology as well as in anything else. I have not renounced it, but lost it—similar somehow to losing one’s eyesight after an accident. I have lost my past unshakable faith in the power of my words to make a difference for Anthropology. The ideas of a theoretically avant-garde, ideologically flexible, professionally unorthodox, spiritually cynical, politically incorrect and “difficult” “junior anthropologist” seem unlikely to matter.
Question Two: Then why are you writing this essay?
This opportunity I could not have missed! Firstly I am writing out of self-preservation. I am concerned that I might loose my mind. In a discipline whose practitioners do not even agree that there is a Reality out there, this concern is justified. Secondly, there is the inner need to find some answers and forget about fears, doubts, timidity and uncertainty. This need points to a strong personal motivation. I thought it reasonable to make an effort to connect with others in Anthropology who might think what I think, feel what I feel and perhaps bring about some change in the discipline! Not to write this essay would have been in many ways self-destructive. It might have suggested aloofness, indifference and lack of concern with the truth. These are not what I am about.
Question Three: How do you see Anthropology?
Somehow similar to a cherished old relative with advanced Alzheimer’s that has no choice but to tolerate intellectual impairment over the healing potential of young scholars. The “Discipline” (still) stands, but the production of anthropological knowledge is often converted into foolishness, in spite of the fact that choices to do the opposite do exist. Anthropology seems to be fundamentally preoccupied with externalities. It prizes (political) “correctness” over truth, image over inspiration, mimicry over authentic passion, anti reason over reason, snobbism over inclusiveness and cultural relativism” over authentic scientific knowledge. Anthropology is no longer “the most scientific of the humanities, and the most humanistic of the sciences” (Kroeber, 1959), as it might have once been, but an increasingly politicized, puritanical, and authoritarian “bureaucratic entity.” How could this classic definition of “the most scientific of the humanities” be authentic when some practitioners have forced anthropology to give up its scientific flavor? Too often, in the discipline’s past evil was taken as good, lies were taken as truths, non-value as value, compromise and hypocrisy as “intelligence,” twisted words as “research” and crawling as walking upright (Di Leonardo, 1998; Clifford, 1983; Truillot, 2003). In a Post modernistic mindset, some would argue that this is still true today. I am not much concerned with the “burdens of the past” and with the Postmodernist’s  “apocalyptical narrative” as well as I do not believe in anthropology’s past “unity” or its supposed present day “Balkanization”(Segal and Yanagisako, 3). Postmodernism is not my “cup of tea” because I firmly believe that anthropology was and is more than “a Discipline for the Savage” (Truillot, 18). If I were not convinced of this reality, I would return home to Transylvania and raise pigs, an occupation no less honorable than anthropology and definitely economically more productive than being a junior anthropologist. Though I am not obsessed about the past, I am very concerned with the present. When objectively considering the present, anthropology, I am afraid, may have become a machine… Still, I have not given up hope. Like human beings, anthropology seems to have an extraordinary power of adaptation and regeneration. Also similarly to humans the discipline seems to be ravaged by some of the same maladies of the spirit. Who cannot see reflected in the history of the discipline the conflicts that plagued it in recent history: ethnocentrism, racism, sexism, arrogance, and intellectual self-sufficiency? I am nevertheless optimistic because the history of the discipline shows that one anthropological theory has no guarantee of supremacy or survival. Powerful ideas can be dismissed and fall. No anthropologist is prescient, no one is omniscient; all ideas and theories must be tried by the impartial fire of empiricism and reason. The many trees in the garden of knowledge are equally subject to cultivation, pruning, and burning. What remains is solely Reason and the struggle to obtain knowledge. Indeed, if anthropology is anything similar to the truth, then it is resilient and self-examining. As Herzfeld put it “[anthropology’s] most perverse strengths reside in its capacity for quite destructive self-examination” (Herzfeld, 2001).
Question Four: Hasn’t Anthropology always been politicized, puritanical, and authoritarian? Anthropology has always been a mixture of the unmixable: good and evil, darkness and light, radicalism and liberalism. It started as a fresh, groundbreaking discipline with a radical vision about the origins of humans and the human condition. One clearly can see reflected in this discipline the story of the human species. After I entered Anthropology I saw its enormous potential although it took me some time to articulate the power of its proposals, which claim that: humanity has its origins not in a miraculous creation event carried on by an omnipotent and omniscient deity, but in the natural process of evolution. Production of knowledge through reasoning is possible; this knowledge is a result par excellence of the human mind. It has not been granted by the gods, nor is it their monopoly. The destiny of Man is not mystical, transcendental or eternal but rather empirical, traceable, earthly and ephemeral. Anthropological knowledge is not the privilege of an intellectual elite but is available to all who hunger and thirst for knowledge. The human condition is universal but human beings are diverse. Though cultural universals and cultural laws* are important, cultural outliers1 are nevertheless no less significant  (Brown, 1991). All people belong to one extended human family, though none of them is the end product of an evolutionary copy machine. Humans are, as Walt Whitman (1900) put it, “out of the cradle, endlessly rolling.” Each person has a unique role to play in the drama of existence and the unfolding of history. The purpose of every human is to participate in the rolling forward of humanity, like a stone out of a mountain, a millstone grinding down selfish and narcissistic pretensions for the purpose of the common good and advancement2 of humanity. These notions are a bit out of joint with the banalities and ultra orthodox doctrines of some current anthropological thought.
Question Five: Out of joint, how?
Anthropology might no longer be a powerful and healing pursuit of authentic knowledge through freedom of mind. It has become a quite conservative (though highly divided) structure (Segal and Yanagisako, 3), built on the sand of clan values with “academic pedigree as destiny” placed as its chief cornerstone. This I believe is at the heart of the conflicts that plague the discipline. Its practitioners are less like living stones in the high-above Temple of Reason, but more like living stiffs in a morgue of quiet ideological conformity. Junior scholars are relentlessly pressured to strain at gnats and swallow camels, permanently afraid to be “too scientific”, “cultural evolutionist saboteurs” and thus “taint” the immaculate edifice of anthropology. They must not act like authentic scientists, but rather indulge in a “cyborg like” cultural relativist and particularistic mindset. Often if they want to pursue an academic career, they must also avoid at all cost being “difficult” (Segal and Yanagisako, 1), and avoid questioning the discipline’s authoritarian voices, dissent and unconformity; while being constantly encouraged to swallow camels by tolerating elitism, xenophobia, sexism, racist and racialist outbursts, ideological supremacism, moral superiority, purification by exclusion, “dominant orthodoxies” (Segal and Yanagisako, 5) “academic pedigree”, institutional secrecy, ideological and political correctness, intellectual autocracy, perverse strategizing (Segal and Yanagisako, 5), discrimination, disdain for intellectual freedom, and the abdication of personal judgment and responsibility. Anthropology I fear is no longer concerned at times with humans, but rather with automatons.
Question Six: What caused this decline?
The pursuit of anthropological knowledge cannot be greater than the theoretical leadership of a hierarchical discipline. Power and authority corrodes freedom of both common and individual intellectual pursuit. In 2010, the AAA declared that Anthropology is no longer a science. I see the event as having both metaphorical and historical significance. Historically the idea to eliminate the scientific component from the definition occurred for reasons known best to those involved in the decision process. Metaphorically, the 2010 decision was a rejection by AAA of elements of Anthropology’s own identity since the founders of the discipline themselves thought of anthropology first and foremost as a science (ex. Malinowski, Radcliffe Brown, Mead). Many anthropologists did not denounce the absurdity of eliminating the word “science”, as they should have—firmly—because they were more concerned with avoiding embarrassment and appearing “united” (Segal and Yanagisako, 7) than with proclaiming Anthropology as what it really is: a comparative science whose chief purpose is the pursuit of knowledge by scientific means. Unchecked power has led the AAA leaders to believe that their authority is not confined by their fellow colleagues or by wise judgment, but rather that the discipline is limited and may be amended by the leader’s authority—as evidenced in the 2011 AAA “Long-Range Plan” (Segal and Yanagisako, 3), that eliminated the word “science” as the main qualifier of the field of anthropology. Wade’s 2010 article3 exposed the debate to the public eye, adding more tension to an already tense and pathetic situation. The AAA’s initial declaration (though later rectified) was nevertheless in tune with some anthropologists, who have argued for quite some while that anthropology has never been “truly” or “exclusively” a science4. Truth, honesty, academic integrity, authenticity and the gift of Reason were thus rivaled by obedience, “respectability,” denial, apologetic acting, syncopathy, compromise and conformism. It seems that the AAA is no longer the reservoir of anthropological knowledge, but rather its very source. Anthropology is not so much the place for constructive debates, but rather an authorization for an aristocracy of “big names” who, like the seven dwarves, never tire of aligning themselves in order of their right of “academic pedigree” to the “best programs in the country” and “most renown publishing houses”. They serve less as proclaiming the Scientific Truth, and more as sheep dogs protecting Anthropology’s snow-white “cultural relativist” image from the night soil of the inquisitive human nature.
Question Seven: So bluntly: what do you think of the AAA?
I find AAA’s dream of turning anthropology from a comparative science into an uncensored and “kumbaya like” relativistic discipline (yet inoffensive to everyone), absurd. In what seems to have become an increasingly monolithic discipline, even minor grievances are impossible to express without offending somebody or someone. The constant fear of giving offense has crippled anthropology and silenced some voices (Segal and Yanagisako, 1). Nonetheless, I recognize that the AAA has fostered and still fosters a vast amount of important scholarship and provided many anthropologists with comfort, intellectual support and challenging debates.
Question Eight: Do you regret your criticism of this state of affairs in Anthropology?
I regret that my criticism will not have its intended effect of significantly turning Anthropology from authoritarianism and elitism, towards a humble but dignifying pursuit of authentic knowledge. I regret that too often many have disregarded criticism and further tightened the grip of intellectual conformism that manacles the discipline. Though I have these regrets, I do not see that courtesy, flattery, servility or apology has helped much to lessen the narrow-mindedness of this unrighteous dominion.
Question Nine: What about Malinowsky? Was he flawed? Was he an impostor?
He is no longer a hero for me. Nevertheless, I see no good evidence that he did not believe in his authenticity. Of course he was flawed! What anthropologist isn’t? He had racist outbursts, manifesting at times a strong hatred towards his Kiriwina informants (Malinowski, 264, 279). He acted in self-serving ways in tandem with the colonial masters of the day (Malinowski, 82). He may not have been authentic or charismatic, but I believe he believed he was. It is human to be mistaken or selfish. Malinowski had a powerful, expansive, and prolific mind, and a genuine spirit driven by ceaseless intellectual curiosity (Malinowski, 114). It is this Malinowskian intellectual curiosity that still inspires anthropologists. Though Malinowski is no longer the mirror image of anthropology, I am sympathetic with his thirst for knowledge. At his life’s end, he was apparently troubled that the discipline he founded had gone somehow off hand, especially because of his rivalry with Radcliffe Brown. Perhaps he died in a state of existential crisis, sick of tuberculosis and alone. It takes no courage to accuse the defenseless dead like Malinowski or Mead. Defying the errors of the powerful living is another matter. Those who shout out the faults of Mead or Malinowski are often unwilling to even whisper the failings of the current leadership in the discipline. All leaders sin. I find however sins of passion more understandable than sins of calculation and, therefore, prefer Bronislaw Malinowski to Margaret Mead and Bill Clinton to G.W. Bush.
Question Ten: What do you think of Ethnography?
Ethnography has been for a long time an extraordinary tool, though often abused. Ethnography should not be the “end product” of the anthropological enterprise, but instead what it really is: a powerful tool in deciphering and understanding culture. Particularly if regarded not as absolute but as prone to changes and errors, ethnography is an efficient means for valuable data collection. The time has come, however, to move beyond (as some anthropologists have already done for quite a while) the compulsorily Boasian enterprise of data collecting, and make sense of our data within the modern scientific context. Otherwise the risk that anthropologists will almost insignificantly contribute to other disciplines is great.
Question Eleven: Do you still have trust in Anthropology?
I love Anthropology even though it may not be living at its full potential and authenticity. I see the discipline as a combination of Henry V and Dionysus—a king in disguise among his people, eating of their intellectual limitations and drinking of their academic disappointments. Yet anthropology might ultimately be victorious over meaninglessness, ignorance, envy and pride. Both reason and hope for the pursuit of authentic knowledge and human advancement, might in the end conquer.
Question Twelve: Isn’t that definitely, a form of trust?
Yes it is, though ultimate affirmations and other expressions of absolute certainty beyond what can be empirically demonstrated disturb me. Nevertheless, I can categorically say (based on everything that has been experienced in the discipline so far) that if anthropology was not a science then it should be; if anthropology was not the total discipline that can provide meaningful answers grounded in Reason to the mystery of the human existence, it must be. If anthropology is not a science then it is nothing. Even as merely a hypothesis, a scientific anthropology is the best of all possible alternatives to the study of the human species. A scientific and comparative anthropology may be a hypothesis but if so, it is a hypothesis against which the banalities of the hopeless particularism and useless cultural relativism of the majority of current anthropological production, pale in comparison. It is a hypothesis that transforms the pursuit of knowledge. Anthropology must ultimately be a comparative science, simply for the fact that only by systematically understanding the differences and  similarities between cultures can this discipline tell us something about the human condition, and provide us with information  that cannot be obtained in any other manner except by comparison.
Question Thirteen: What about the future of Anthropology?
I see the future as promising. I am probably too optimistic. E. E. Pritchard, addressing Oxford University’s students, once said, “None of us can foretell the future.” This is an extraordinarily powerful statement! It tells us that the future is not bleak. Disappointment is not inevitable and pessimism is unwarranted. Passion for authentic science, faith in reason, hope and meaning, if fallen, will rise again. I tend to face the future optimistically, acknowledge the past honestly, and be essentially hopeful about the present. But then, I cannot forget that I lost my blind faith in both “the gods” and anthropology. Still (at times) I wonder: Is the hereafter any more improbable than the here and now? Is a one-dimensional cosmos of molecules likely to produce mathematicians, mystics, and anthropologists? Absent a supreme being of love and laughter, how could so sorry a creature as I find himself driving about in my old Ford, listening to the majestic polyphony of Beethoven and thinking about the laws of humanity and universe? By virtue of reason however, I remain a skeptic… I am amazed that years have passed since Malinowski and Boas and so much time has been lost, that so little has changed in some respects, and that the Boasian mindset still worms his way into anthropology. In spite of this, I would be astounded to find the discipline here ten years hence. The title of this paper is misleading. I meant no harm and no impiety by writing this essay, and there is no malice in my discontent. I must confess however, that I am seriously saddened that scholars like Bruce Trigger have made so little difference in anthropology overall. His efforts to build an anthropological theory through the comparative use of anthropological data have been so far only partially followed by a handful of authentic scholars. But that, I suppose, could change. After all, pedigree is not destiny and “none of us can foretell the future”…

Marius Sidau, March 16, 2012
 


* By “cultural laws” I mean patterns of human behaviour across history (see Chrisomalis p. 36-48 in Williamson and Bisson, 2006). The “patterns of change” are linked with one of Trigger’s fundamental questions –how was the past similar and different than the present?

1 By “cultural outliers” I mean exceptions from general cultural laws or “human universals” (Brown, 1991). 
2 I used “advancement” instead of “evolution” or “progress” to not be accused of being a “cultural evolutionist,” which has already happened anyway.
3 “Anthropology a Science? Statement Deepens a Rift” (see Nicholas Wade, 2010 http://www.nytimes.com/2010/12/10/science/10anthropology.html?_r=2&partner=rss&emc=rss).

4 See the AAA old wording vs. new wording. Old Wording: “The purposes of the Association shall be to advance anthropology as the science that studies humankind in all its aspects, through archeological, biological, ethnological, and linguistic research; and to further the professional interests of American anthropologists; including the dissemination of anthropological knowledge and its use to solve human problems.” New Wording: “The purposes of the Association shall be to advance public understanding of humankind in all its aspects. This includes, but is not limited to, archaeological, biological, social, cultural, economic, political, historical, medical, visual, and linguistic anthropological research. The Association also commits itself and to further the professional interests of anthropologists, including the dissemination of anthropological knowledge, expertise, and interpretation.” Also see Peter Wood (2010) “Anthropology Association Rejecting Science?” (http://chronicle.com/blogs/innovations/anthropology-association-rejecting-science/27936).


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