Category: Social issues

High Time to Stop the Culture Wars

Culture wars detract people from the crucial environmental and political problems that must be tackled if humanity is to survive.

As the globe is heating, the environment unravels and “natural” disasters have become the new normal, millions of refugees are seeking new homes, the Russia – Ukraine war is dragging on, and Israel is about to revenge atrocities committed by Hamas by “eradicating” many thousands of people, the US is preparing for war with China as well as Russia, ethnic and regional conflicts fester around the world, while many millions suffer from poverty, inequality, homelessness, and preventable diseases, it should be apparent that humanity is not making much progress in coming to terms with its enduring challenges. If anything, people are becoming more divided, politics is becoming increasingly polarised, and governments are drifting rather than steering, as they have no clue how to stem the flood of converging crises hitting societies and the world, let alone what to do to address their sources.

One of the main characteristics of collapsing societies, like people at the end of their tether, is that they continue to do the same thing(s) in the hope that it will solve their problems by some kind of miracle. Governments and businesses continue to promote economic growth as the miracle cure for their and the world’s problems. They keep on exploiting and ruining the environment in the belief that this will generate enough money and motivation to solve environmental problems. They keep on producing new chemical compounds, approving untested technologies, and selling products that are supposed to improve people’s health and well-being, but that cause ill health and addiction. They keep on exploiting people with the promise that this will lift them out of poverty and make them rich. They keep on suppressing freedom, discontent and critique by labelling people criminals or terrorists, locking them up or killing them. And last but not least, they keep entertaining the people to distract them from their misery.

Keep spinning in a rut, but it won’t get you out. These mantras and repetitive behaviours may fool people into believing that governments know what they are doing, but they do not even recognise, let alone address, the enduring problems facing societies and the world. Instead, they dig humanity into deeper and deeper ruts. The problems, discontent, tensions, and conflicts are getting bigger. One of the sad things about humanity is that it seems incapable of learning from its mistakes.

One of the biggest mistakes made by human groups and societies is engaging in culture wars. Culture wars are not just about “wokeness” or transgenderism, although these do add to the divisiveness in many societies. Culture should be seen as a much broader thing. It comprises almost everything people believe, do, and continue to do as group members. Culture gives a group and its members a sense of identity, meaning, and purpose. People acquire culture from the societies in which they grow up, but throughout their lives, they may also be or become members of a variety of sub-cultures, such as a youth culture, a business culture, a professional culture, a gang culture, a regional culture, or an ethnic culture, among many others.

Culture is a thorny matter. Almost by definition, cultures rule people in or out. Originally based on the imperatives of survival in a local or regional biophysical environment, kinship groups developed cultures that served the basic material needs of the group members. They adopted strict rules and norms, allocating distinct roles legitimised on the grounds of necessity, nature, and the spirits or gods thought to rule their world. Those who did not adhere to their culture were regarded as aliens or sub-humans that could be killed or enslaved at will. By contrast, they thought of themselves as the only “real” humans at the centre of the world.

While, over time, the groups and societies in which people lived and on which they depended for their survival increased in size, their propensity to rule people in or out remained. Ethnic divisions, based on culture and perpetuated by histories of conflict, atrocities, exploitation, and discrimination, continue to plague many countries in all parts of the world. While national cultures and nationalism can be regarded as steps towards integrating diverse cultures into newly shared (or forged) cultures, these, too, have been highly divisive and lethal in their applications, both domestically and internationally. If anything, globalisation has provoked a backlash against the idea that national, indigenous, regional and local cultures are no longer important.

However, rather than reviving nationalism, tribalism, and ethnocentrism, humanity must overcome these divisions to address its enormous political, economic, social, and environmental challenges. What is needed, instead, is forging an eco-cosmopolitan culture that emphasises the common values and interests of all humans on this planet. This does not imply the abolition of existing cultures and cultural diversity. Given the basic human need for identity and belonging, the human propensity to categorise people in or out (which may be hard-wired), and the existing socio-cultural reality, cultural divisions are likely to persist. The best we can hope for is that a growing number of people start realising and accepting that humanity urgently needs to forge a common eco-cosmopolitan culture. This may sound idealistic and unrealistic. But reality demands that humanity stop its culture wars. If we acknowledge that cultures are not God-given but have been forged by powerful people, and increasingly so by manipulating them by highly insidious means, we can get a sharper idea of how this can be done.

Population matters

Population size has been a topic of debate since Malthus. But the debate has often focused on a narrow range of issues.

Ever since Malthus published his Essay on the Principle of Population, population has been a topic of debate. Initially, much of the debate was driven by the fear that population growth would outstrip food production, resulting in widespread starvation and societal collapse. This fear was allayed by the “Green Revolution” in the 1970s, which increased agricultural production enough to feed a rapidly growing world population, from 3 billion in 1960 to 8 billion in 2022. More recently, in several countries, including China, Japan, and many European countries, concern has shifted in the opposite direction, towards declining populations. In particular, this concern focuses on the economic consequences of the “greying” of populations and the shrinking of the working-age groups. Some refer to these developments as posing a demographic crisis. India, which recently has overtaken China as the most populous country with over 1.4 billion people, is said to have its population policy right, while China got it wrong. To address these issues, increasing immigration is often proposed as a solution, a highly controversial topic in many countries. At the same time, the world population is expected to grow to 10.4 billion by the end of the century. Given the existing and aggravating environmental pressures and problems, this raises the question of how many people the Earth can support, especially with expectations of ever-higher consumption levels.

Thus, the “population issue” has shifted in focus, from food production to composition (greying, immigration) and population decline, to over-consumption and environmental pressures (sustainability). However, many of the contributions to the debate take a narrow view, looking at a single aspect and/or driven by a particular economic or political agenda. The debate is often cast as one between pessimism and optimism about the number of humans that countries or the Earth can sustain. Both positions reflect an anthropocentric worldview. Non-human nature is seen as important only inasmuch as it serves human interests. From an ecological perspective, but stated in human terms, it can be argued that humans have become a pest that destroys the conditions essential to the survival of numerous other species. That they do so is not just because there are too many of them. Even smaller societies have often wreaked havoc on their local environment. The heart of the problem lies in the fact that, as a species, humans have detached themselves from and stand apart from, or above, the rest of nature. To prevent humans from destroying the natural fabric on which their survival also depends, they must consciously and collectively integrate environmental imperatives into their thinking, behaviour and institutions.

If they were to do so, societies would maintain their numbers at levels considered environmentally sustainable, both locally and globally. Respecting the existence of all other species, they would restrict their ecological impacts and, within those limits, determine the size of their populations based on what they collectively consider desirable, based on qualitative and quantitative criteria. This is, of course, not how the world works at the moment. Initially, the size of populations is determined by the decisions of individuals or families, which are not easily controlled collectively. Second, how governments interpret or define the population issue and what they do or don’t do about it is foremost a matter of political economy. Whose views prevail collectively and are converted into policies and given effect depends on the distribution and exercise of power within political-economic systems.

Politics in Palaeolithic societies

Research on paleolithic societies suggests that political positions in these societies may have been fluid, linked to the variable needs and functions of the group.

David Graeber, in a “long read” in the Guardian of 19 October 2021, argues that (Upper) Palaeolithic societies (between some 50,000 – 15,000 years ago), may have had seasonal (dual) socio-political structures that alternated between more or less egalitarian during the hunting-gathering season to more hierarchical at times of seasonal festivals when larger numbers of people (of clans, tribes, and other groupings) gathered to celebrate. His argument is based on archaeological evidence of monumental structures that have been found in various parts of the world, but that seemed to have been used only seasonally, as well as of the graves of ‘extreme’ individuals (people with extraordinary features) who were buried with all kinds of ornaments at these sites. He speculates that during the times of these gatherings, these extreme individuals may have acquired some kind of leadership positions, but that these were temporary and functional rather than hereditary. Like the Nambikwara in Brazil (a people studied by Claude Levi-Strauss), leadership positions were seasonal and more egalitarian socio-political structures prevailed at other times. Graeber argues that this suggests that early societies could intentionally alter their political relations and structures. Although there are still some remnants of this conscious reversal of hierarchies in modern societies, the latter seem to be much more stuck with their political structures.

Although speculative, the idea that early societies adopted different political structures at different times of the year has some plausibility. While small groups of hunter-gatherers may have had relatively functional political relationships based on the relative (demonstrated) personal skills of their members, the seasonal gatherings by a large number of groups for collective celebrations and rituals (of all kinds) may well have provided opportunities for individuals to stand out based on some personal qualities (physical, social, intellectual, or other). Arguably, such ‘outstanding’ people gained a special status based on the recognition of their special qualities. However, after these gatherings broke up and the groups dispersed again, the day-to-day needs and practices of the smaller groups may have reasserted themselves in their internal politics, where functional and useful skills were most important for the group’s survival.

The article provides support for the view that politics and political structures need to be understood based on a range of functions that need to be fulfilled at the collective (group, tribe, state) level to ensure the continuity of the group, which requires that basic needs are met. These functions comprise: ensuring the means for the group to provide for its own material needs (the organisation of hunting, gathering etc.; economic function); the management of conflicts within the group (personal rivalries; sexual rivalries; distributional conflicts); social integration (development of norms, symbols, stories, beliefs or other that bind and keep a group together); and enhancing security (notably against threats from outsiders, but also from deviant/aggressive people within the group). Different individuals may have played leadership roles in these functions, which helped maintain a balance of power within groups. Modern states continue to play a crucial role in all four functions.

Social Fragmentation in China

Social cohesion in China is under threat from the dominant materialist culture, which is insufficient to hold society together.

An article in the Guardian of 6 September 2018 (“‘Human Impulses Run Riot’: China’s Shocking Pace of Change”) provides support for the view that, with the (re-) introduction of capitalism in the 1980s, Chinese society has been subject to a process of social fragmentation. Individualism, materialism, and corruption are rampant; the importance of family has declined, and collective political ideals no longer drive people.

The author (Yo Hua) reflects on the political, economic, and social changes since the 1960s, identifying three periods of rapid political change (each associated with three waves of suicides among political officials) and noting that, in present-day China, money is all that counts. Political ideals no longer drive people, family ties have weakened, individualism and corruption are rampant, and inequality has increased. He seems to suggest that no one is really happy. Ordinary workers suffer most from the fierce competition, which is driving wages down. The rich suffer from anxiety, afraid to lose everything they have acquired. Many people are nostalgic. But new technologies (such as mobile payments) have been adopted by most people, and few, he argues, would really want to return to the past. He also notes that present-day protests (“mass incidents”), when they occur, are motivated by self-interest (protection of material interests), not by a desire to transform society, indicating widespread depoliticisation

Although the love of money and materialism are theoretically shared values, they do not necessarily bind communities or societies together. Rather, they feed and fuel competition, jealousy, and perpetual discontent and unhappiness (relative deprivation – pressure to “keep up with the Joneses”, a treadmill of insatiable consumption). Hence, relying on continuous economic growth, even if it were possible, as a means to “keep people happy”, is a fundamentally inadequate and risky strategy for holding societies together (social integration). Large inequalities in wealth and income erode social integration, creating a new class society. Not surprisingly, China’s leadership is attempting to foster pride in China’s rich cultural heritage to maintain social cohesion. However, clamping down on corruption, although it may help somewhat to maintain the regime’s legitimacy, does little for social integration, as it does not address the sources of fragmentation associated with individualism, materialism, exploitation, and inequality.

Pastoral Egalitarianism?

Although prehistoric pastoral societies may have been more egalitarian than agricultural societies, this does not necessarily mean they were democratic.

Research reported in The Guardian provides support for the idea that prehistoric pastoral societies had egalitarian structures. Various other sources have argued before that hierarchical social structures originated with the emergence of agriculture and associated permanent settlements. This led to agricultural surpluses being accumulated and entrusted to and/or controlled by “authorities”. Although the members of agricultural communities may have consented in such arrangements, it does not seem farfetched to claim that those who exerted control over surpluses thereby also built up a position of material power with which they were able to create or strengthen their official positions in their societies, de facto creating states, the emergence of which has also been linked to the rise of agriculture. By contrast, pastoral societies that lived nomadic lives to feed their herds were probably less able to accumulate and store surpluses, providing less opportunity for relatively powerful individuals to increase their material and other forms of power. Nonetheless, we should be careful not to idealise pastoral societies as egalitarian, let alone democratic, communities. There is no a priori reason why relatively powerful individuals or groups of individuals in such societies would not have been able to, for instance, lay ownership claims on more cattle than others, thus also expanding their material power. Moreover, it is quite likely that differences in other power resources (physical, communicative, social) between individuals in pastoral (and any other) societies will have led some to obtain leadership positions (political institutions) that may also have provided a basis for privileges and material inequality to arise. But it is plausible that the potential for the accumulation of wealth (material power) in (city-) states was significantly bigger insofar as the area under production could be expanded (possibly by force), control over increased trade (of surpluses) could be enforced, and income could be generated by control over the labour power and productive efforts of those who were exempted from working in the fields (such as crafts people). In both cases, however, the key to increased inequality lay in the ability of some (relatively more powerful members of a community) to increase control (if not ownership) over material resources, by legitimate or non-legitimate means.