by Aya Solombela
Synopsis: Culture is strongly linked to human evolution – hence, the continuity of our species. However, for such an important factor in our survival, we are failing to make a critical assessment of the aspects of our increasingly global culture which we should nurture, put an end to, or introduce. Globalisation has forced several cultures to exist side-by-side, resulting in constant competition among them for supremacy and ultimately, longevity. As a mechanism for cultural exchange, globalisation has presented distinct advantages for traditionally ‘Western’ ideas and norms – thereby positioning this culture as the modern status quo.
Throughout this period, the chief pitfall has been our unquestioning acceptance of this status quo – without giving due consideration to the function, and hence utility, of each of the several facets of this culture. Therefore, we have failed to construct an evidence-based understanding of the beneficial features of this culture in terms of our continued prosperity as a species. Furthermore, we don’t fully understand its shortfalls and hence, we’ve neglected our shared responsibility of cultivating and fortifying it – for example, by including millennia of institutional knowledge embedded in other existing, and generally underrepresented, cultures.
Culture is adaptive; it’s time we each embraced our role in contributing to cultural evolution – ensuring that we leave future generations with an effective, evidence-based, integrated global culture.
Terra preta, a term directly translated from “black earth” in Portuguese, refers to a dark, fertile, artificial soil that’s found in the Amazon Basin. Archaeological evidence and carbon dating indicate that these soils were created over a period of millennia beginning about 9,000 years ago – and ending about 1,000 years ago. Today, much research is focused on attempting to replicate the conditions in this soil; however, we have yet to fully understand how the ancient Amazonian civilizations created it.
If we could reproduce terra preta, we could[1]:
reduce, or even eliminate, hunger for billions of people – in particular, the third of the world’s population living in the tropics, which account for 36 percent of the Earth’s landmass[2];
reduce our carbon footprint by converting our agricultural and forestry waste into biofuel; and
reduce pollution by decreasing the amount of fertilizer which we rely on to supplement the nutrients found in our soil.
It’s clear that the importance of this indigenous Amazonian civilization’s knowledge had been underestimated for centuries – with the ‘discovery’ of terra preta only occurring in the late 1800s (and research beginning recently); however, there’s no denying the steep price that we’re all paying as a result of the loss of this knowledge and perhaps, any other insights this civilization had unlocked. Furthermore, it’s quite easy to estimate the impact of the loss of the process this civilization used to treat soil for agriculture – since we can attach a per cent increase in soil usability and yield. However, it is much more difficult to appraise the value of other forms of knowledge, for example, those relating to the practices which promote cooperation among people with different motivations. This is a topic whose importance I attempt to motivate in the remainder of my reflection.
It would be quite ambitious to think that all civilizations should contribute equally, or even at all, to our species’ evolution – however, in our increasingly integrated, global community, do we ever stop to think what price we’ll eventually pay for throwing away so many cultures, and the indigenous knowledge embedded in them?
As a descendent of the Nguni people, I’m personally and professionally confronted with this question every day. The changes in the adherence to the standard for language, customs and values within my own culture have influenced much of my thinking – which has led me to believe that it’s in a state of decay.
Each year, I experience a gradual, noticeable decline of proficiency in my own home language.
I’m often pressured into ignoring our customary use of titles for people of different generations – for example, being asked to not use ‘uBhut’ or ‘uSis’ when engaging with people in a work context.
I’ve observed that people are considered outliers if they enquire about and/or use clan names to establish family relations – something which wouldn’t have only been a necessity but would’ve held significance under customary law not more than a century ago.
I’ve observed that respect is primarily assigned based on wealth, status, or what others can do for us, not what we can learn from them – where, for example, we don’t make time to greet the elderly cleaner or security guard, but can go the extra mile to cultivate our ‘network’.
Hence, I’ve found myself asking “does it matter if my children can’t speak my home language?”, “what’s the point of Isiduko?”, “why do we give the most respect to our elders, irrespective of wealth or status?”, and so on. This has led me to an even more important question: “what’s the point of culture, anyway?”
Every civilization to ever exist has had a culture – that is, a set of shared ideas, practiced customs and accepted social behaviours. In Evolutionary Biology, it is a widely held view that culture has an evolutionary purpose – that is, our survival depended on our ability to adhere to one. So, why would our survival be impacted by whether we have a culture or not? Our ability to successfully adapt to a wide range of environments is often explained in terms of our cognitive ability. However, our true strength isn’t merely that we can process information better than other animals, but rather that we can accumulate information, encode it into a set of adhered to and/or accepted practices – through cooperation, and share it among ourselves. In even the simplest societies, people depend on a wide range of skills, sets of local knowledge and social arrangements for survival – whether they fully understand their purpose or not. Therefore, to answer “what’s the point of culture, anyway?” – it is to provide a mechanism for cooperation, through which we can accumulate the vital knowledge and skills which enable our species to thrive.
Globalisation has created a melting pot of cultures – with each competing for its own survival through a mechanism which has presented distinct advantages for ‘Western’ culture. This has resulted in Western cultural practices rising to mainstream influence. In many regions, this has been a welcomed development – to the extent of nearly exhaustive adoption of Western ideals and norms. However, at no point have we evaluated what we stand to gain by taking on these features – and, of equal importance, what we stand to lose by forfeiting our own cultural influences. I take this challenge head-on, and briefly reflect on my own culture – that of the Nguni people – building on the context I which I have already shared.
“Does it matter if my children can’t speak my home language?” – well, it depends.
Depending on your view of the purpose of language, you can feel one way or the other. I’m fluent in only one of the six Nguni languages. In South Africa, we have eleven official languages – including English. Furthermore, there are over 1,250 natively spoken languages within the African continent. If I were to view language simply as a means of conveying ideas with minimal effort and maximum accuracy (which is understood to be the evolutionary reason why humans developed language), I would find the lack of a unified Nguni – or broader, South African, or even broader, African – language challenging. In a scenario where we accept that the world is becoming smaller, the utility of a language which can’t ensure your survival even within your tribe, let alone your country or continent, is limited. However, if I believed that language had another purpose – for example, there is literature suggesting close links to identity, self-concept and self-esteem – then the price of having to learn multiple other Nguni, South African, or African languages (in order to survive within the tribe, country, or continent) may very well be worth the related benefits. I don’t know what the correct answer is, but I do believe that this is an area which we need to study further and then have the dialogue – not being dismissive of either side – and each come to our own conclusions based on a critical process which is grounded in facts.
“What’s the point of Isiduko?” and “why do we give the most respect to our elders, irrespective of wealth or status?” – I’ll attempt to make the case that there are intrinsic benefits to each of these, which in a ‘free market’ would outcompete the comparative norms in Western culture. Namely, the benefits are (1) the existence of a lower bar for acknowledgement of family ties – which creates large, extended families and a community rooted in a family structure (what has commonly come to be understood as ‘Ubuntu’) – and (2) an emphasis on choosing role models using an algorithm which gives due consideration a person’s function within society (instead of their individual success) during a child’s developmental years.
One US study[3] indicates that although black women attempt suicide at the same rate as white women, they have fewer completions. They were distinguished from white women by having more social supporters, larger extended families, stronger mothering ethos and fewer visits to the doctor. If we acknowledge that the lower death rate due to suicide observed for black females in this study is an overall positive for humanity, then it’s a distinct advantage to have communities with more social support structures – and the selection mechanism would correctly identify Nguni, or broadly African, culture as being better in this respect.
Another study showed that 3 – 5 year olds would differentially model their behaviour to imitate a person who was watched by other people most often, even when the person was no longer being watched by others[4]. This suggests that children use ‘prestige cues’, among other things, to determine who to model their behaviour against. In Nguni culture, ‘prestige’ varies proportionately to age – hence, knowledge of the rights and responsibilities of all members of a tribe (and the consequences of failing to fulfil the respective responsibilities) and an understanding of how to build and manage family structures – the nucleus of any society. The evolutionary theory acknowledges that much of our species’ success is attributable to our ability to cooperate (i.e. a social skill) – hence, a model that appropriately prioritises this knowledge to be passed on to future generations should be favoured by a fair selection mechanism.
In closing, I acknowledge that this is by no means a complete or even concrete case; however, it’s enough to motivate that each of us acknowledges that none of our cultures individually are perfect, stop and think about why we do what we do, and what we truly forfeit as we embrace (and participate in) an ever-changing world. The literature is not conclusive on the purpose of each feature of culture. However, what is clear is that cultural evolution is integral to the success of human evolution. To date, there’s little that’s been done to evaluate the effectiveness of the Western culture which we’re increasingly adopting; however, there’s evidence to suggest that the culture is not optimal – it has distinct advantages, but also has shortfalls. Hence, now more than ever, an appraisal of the utility of our integrated global culture is called for. Humanity has many aspirations – from world peace to conquering space – but, to get there we’ll need to take one more step forward in our evolution. Each of us should be critical, brave and open-minded enough to make that leap – together.
[1] Barrow, C.J. (2012). Biochar: Potential for countering land degradation and for improving agriculture
[2] https://www.nationalgeographic.org/encyclopedia/tropics/
[3] Goldsmith, S.K. (2001). Risk Factors for Suicide: Summary of a Workshop
[4] https://www.apa.org/science/about/psa/2011/11/human-evolution