(j •!■.•-• ■ • ■ Introduction n«~i?r*.r » 'i*'"1«*' "í- . 11 societies the^same issue often emerges over rights to the carcass of a successfully hurMed game animal. In very many of Ihestssdcieties the carcass is recognized^as being individually owned and vet at the same time the various members of the camp in which the/Owner lives have socially recognized rights\to a share ih the irusal which cannot be refused by the owner, in looking at the polih>a1 relevance of property rights, the important questionfqr us is^HÔt so much whether these rights are held by individuals or byVmdps, although this is a matter to which we will return, but the more'fundamental question of the scale of equality and inequality in access by men\women and children to the range of material Ihings^^Hat are desired and valued in hunting and gathering societies. JAre are concerned with tne basis for the various equalities and hjequalities that exist and with soNe of their possible historical trajectories. In our search for answers we muststart with some commepts*about the organization of production in these sweeties. Low production targets In a famous paper a,t the 'Man the hunter' conference in 1966|^Sahlins- afgued that hunter-gatherers, far from having difficulty in obtatrritig their material requirements and desires, obtained them rather easily and allowed themselves much leisure by setting their targets low and / by limiting their material wants to thoseTnät^e~vveirwithiň~their if capadtylö"achieve (SahlinsT968: 85-9; 1974: 1-39). Much work has been stimulated by the theory over the years and many comments have £j been made, some favourable and some not. Certainly not all hunter- ^ss( gatherers are willing to set their targets so low that in consequence they find tolerable the degree of hardship suggested in one of his examples j^X (1968: 89). And again much more effort is, at some times and in some societies, made to obtain people's requirements than this theory pre- dkls- ^-—-\ r^- But, if two provisos are made, the crux of tha(fneoryJftas, we believe, ^ stood up well to twenty years of additional research. The first proviso is f\ that it applies very much better to hunter-gatherer societies with fc —> immediate-return systems — that is. in brief, with economies in which people usually obtain an immediate yield for their labour, use this yield •ssř with minimal delay and place minimal emphasis on property rights — V 5 than it does to hunter-gatherer societies with delayed-return systems rv — in which people place!" more emphasis on property righjts, jigbts ST*"' which are usually but not always linked with delayed yields_gnJabour 5 (for a more detailed characterization of these types of economy, see Q Woodburn 1980; 1982a; 1982b). Contemporary hunter-gatherers with immediate-return systems include, in Africa, the Mbuti, the !Kung, the Nharo and the Hadza; in South Asia, the Paliyan, the Hill Pandaram and the Naiken; in South-east Asia, the Batek. Most north- \ C~\ 12 AU-T«*-S <»«-«» í- L-2------------------ IHIHH/MĽIIUH-------» ^ ŕfc ; «,..<,«*..» ( ^(production targeTsare/Demand is not focused on greater production, ň" i does not, for example, lead to pressure to persuade those who hunt i little to spend more time and effort on hunting. It is instead strongly .' focused on the requirement that people who at some particular mo-i ment happen to have more of something than they immediately need^ should carry out their moral obligation to share it outriTiě*ěmpnasrs is *$ í on what was, at the conference from which the chapters in this volume ^ are drawn^řalled demand-sharinstPeople do not wait meekly for their share, but make what are at timeg loud and explicit claims^Hunters, in some at least of these societies, anTěxpected to deprecate their own success and may even choose to give up hunting for a while lest they be ^5 suspected of attempting to build up their status (see, for example, Lee 1984: 48-50, 151-7). ^ ľ" In all known hunter-gatherer societies with immediate-return sys- .^ terns, and in many, but not all, hunter-gatherer societies with delayed-return systems, people are almost always able to meet their nutritional ^Y needs very adequately without working long hours. In setting their production targets low, people are not normally running significant risks of endangering their health and welfare, not even, because of the emphasis on sharing, the health and welfare of the weak and potentially vulnerable. The_cornbination of low production targets, little difficulty for indi- vidualsiň meeting their nutritional needs and strong pressures lor immediate use of food and of artefacts means that, in comparison with other types of society, not many material things are heldand even fewer are accumulated over time. Definition of property rights How, then, are property rights organized? We must first define ahet'f- i5s Q, ľX .* i si li l' í i Mi > K | • e < li «I 4^! II economics is Hic dism.il science, the study of hunting-gathering economies must be its most advanced branch. Almost totally committed to the argument that life was hard in the Paleolithic, our textbooks compete to t'linvcy a sense oTmipciiding doom, leaving the student to wonder not only how luintcrs managed to make a livingT"Eut whether, after all, this was liwni;' The specter ot starvation stalksjlie stalker in these pages. His tečTini-cal incompetence is said to enjoin continuous work just to survive, leaving him without respite from the food quest and without the leisure to "build culture." liven so. for his efforts he pulls thClowcst grades in thermodynamics—less .energy harnessed per capita nrr y=" tlian any other jiuxje of production. And in treatises on economic development, he is condemned *^Tng!!ľl!íJE^M?^r^'ta"'"le' tnc so~ca-llctl subsistence economy," 1rwTltl5č~SsTrčTIíčTý_dTffictdt to correct this traditional wisdom. Perhaps then ue should phrase the necessary revisions in the most shocking terms possible: that this was, when you come to think of it, the original affluent i society. By common understanding an affluent society is one in which all I the people's wwitsjjjgTrasily satisfied; and Plough we are pleased to consider tliis hliJ^y^čoíídTnoTrThc unique achievement of industrial civilization, a belter case can be made for hunters and gatherers, even many of the mar-l ginal ones spared to ethnography, for wants are "easily satisfied," either by I prmhicingrnuch or desiring little, and there are, ačcordingTy7Twô~pôHir5Tc , roads lo affluence. The Cámřlítliean course makes assumptions peculiarly appropriate to market economics, that man's wants arc great, not to say infinite, whereas his means arc limited, although improvable. Thus the gap between means and ends can eventually be narrowed by industrial productivity, at jcflftt tp Hie extent tr^at "urgent" goods became abundant. But there is also a^Žen solution to scarcity and affluences beginning from premises opposite Irom our own, that human material ends are few and finite and technical means unchanging buton the whole adequate. Adopting the_Zcn '•,: strategy, a people can enjoy an unparalleled material plenty, though per-v iii'l>' Q"ly a I"" standard ol living. That llliiiik describes the hunters.' The traditional dismal view of the hunters fix is prc-anthropological. It goes back to the time Adam Smith was writing, and maybe to a time before anyone was writing. But anthropology, especially evolutionary anthropology, found it congenial, even necessary theoretically, to adopt the same tone of reproach. Archeologists and ethnologists had become Neolithic revolutionaries, and in their enthusiasm for the revolution found serious shortcomings in the Old (Stone Age) Regime. Scholars extolled a Neolithic Creat Leap Forward. Some spoke of a changeover from human effort to domesticated energy sources, as if people had been liberated by a new labor-saving device, although in fact the basic power resources remained exactly the same, plants and animals, the development occurring rather in techniques of appropriation (i.e., domestication. Moreover, archeological research was beginning to suggest that the decisive gains came in stability of settlement and gross economic product, rather than productivity of labor). But evolutionary theory is not entirely to blame. The larger economic context in which it operates, "as if by an invisible hand," promotes the same dim conclusions about the hunting life. Scarcity is the peculiar obsession of a business economy, the calculable condition of all who participate in it. The market makes freely available a dazzling array of products all these "good things" within a man's reach—but never his grasp, for one never has ' enough to buy everything. To exist in a market economy is to live out a double tragedy, beginning iti inadequacy and ending in deprivation. j\jí economic activity starts trom a position ot shortage: whether as producer, consumer, or seller of labor, one's resources arc insufficient to the possible" / ui.es ana satisfactions, bo one comes to a conclusion—"you pays your money and you takes your choice." But then, every acquisition is simultaneously a deprivation, for every purchase of something is a denial of something else that could have been had instead. (The point is that if you buy one kind of automobile, say a Plymouth fastback, you cannot also have a Ford Mustang—and 1 judge from the TV commercials that the deprivation involved is more than material.) Inadequacy is the judgment decreed by our economy, and thus the axiom of our economics: the application ot scarce // means against alternateends1jyestarid sentenced to life at hard labor. It-is^' from this anxious vantagěfhat we look"back on the hunter. But if madam nun", with all his technical advantage!, still hasn't got the wherewithal, what chance has this naked savagě~wjth his puny bow and arrow? Having equipped the hunter with bourgeois impulscsänd Paleolithic tools, tve Judge | .^ his situation hopeless in advance. -----------■- -------_».• ^•""Scarcity is not an intrinsic property oftcclinic.il means. It js a relation/) (between means and ends.f We might entertain the empirical possibility that hunters are in business for their health, a finite objective, and bow and arrow are adequate to that end. A fair case can be made that hunters often., work much less than we do, and rather than a grind the food quest is intermittent, leisure is abundant, and there is more sleep in the davtirne per capita than in any other conditions of society. (Perhaps certain traditional formulae are better inverted: the amount of work per capita increases with «r the evolution of culture and thcamounl of leisure per capita decreases.) ) symposium. Hadza women were said to work two hours per day on the average in gathering food, and one concludes from James Woodburn's cx- 1\ cellent film that Hadza men are much more preoccupied with games of chance than with chances of gamě. In addition, evidence on hunter-gatherers' economic attitudes and decisions should be brought to bear. Harassment is not implied in the descriptions of their nonchalant movements from camp to camp, nor indeed is the familiar condemnations of their laziness. A certain issue is posed bv exasperated comments on the prodigality of hunters, .{licit inclination to make a feast of.eyerything on hand; as if, one Jesuit said of the Montagnais, "the game they were to hunt was shut up in a stable" (Le Jeunc's Relation of 1634, in Kenton, 1927, 1, p. 182). "Not the slightest thought of. or care for, what the morrow may bring forth," wrote Spencer and Gillen (1899, p. S3). SAW-"1* £ «Vi »«•ť- 4^ (3 &<*<'+' I Š a p I «5 1 -Q I ,^ahlins^)ffered two promising cultural propositions. The "flisrwas that affluence is a culture-specific relation between materíäT wants and means and that hunter-gatherers achieve it bv reducing their material wants through cultural processes: (^jyant not, lack not/yThis would have been a good starting point from which to explore the ideas of hunter-gatherers in relation to their economic conduct - QSahliniPž) second cultural proposition was, essentially, that hunter-gatherers have confidence in their environment and that~tEeir economic conduct makes sense m relation to that confidence, in "Notes on the Original Affluent Society" he put this boldly, arguing that "a certain confidence, at least in many cases, attends their economic attitudes and decisions. The way they dispose of food on hand, for example—as if they had it made" Sahlins did not, I think, go back on the explanatory importance of hunter-gatherers' confidence in their environment. He simply laid his bet on another proposition which he had come to believe would make his case more strongly. Reputed to be central and crucial to "The Original Affluent Society," this proposition was that hunter-gatherers work an average of three to five hours per adult per day. In retrospect, and taking into account the recent work discussed briefly above, it is clear that he bet on the weaker horse. " (SAtiutii -*«.<«** ***+! if hunter-gatherersl could gain an adequate livelihood by working so little, I it was obvious that they could easily get what they wanted and did not want more than they could easily get, and, furthermore, it was obvious | "reasonable _they had confidence in their environmentjEus, Sahlins "cTOtered~Hš^ómčÍudInVtÁeory on thFécologicaipropo' sition, which should not have been offered (since there was neither sufficient evidence nor any theoretical need for it), and abandoned the cultural propositions. It is as a result ot tins that he provided a theory of abundance with cost {owing to ecological dictates) when he had set out to offer the opposite, a theory of affluence without abundance (owing to cultural influences). _ -■ I would argue, however, that in drawing attention to the expianatorypower of hunter-gatherers' trust in their environment, Sahlins did point tne way towards a culturally oriented theory of hunter-gatherers' economic behaviour. He was on the threshold of what can now be pursued by using the cul-turalist method of economic analysis. The Cosmic Economy of Sharing /"Here I discuss a closely related metaphorical model—the cosmic economy of sharing—in relation to subsistence activities in the context of a comparison between the Nayaka and two other groups *"th gnmedi»*«--iTOr" «vstemsr-thg MWn»j $f 7-hc aiidthe Batek of Malaysia^cacn group has animistic notions _) whiciyattribute life and consciousness to natural phe-~ 3rnenä7focludíng the forest itself and parts of it such as hilltops, tall trees, and river sources. I shall examine the way in which **"-VfOPStnicf their relationship with \these agents—at oncc^jatural and human-like^—by look-üg eclecticaily at their rituál and myth anomeir everyday discourse and conduct and by paying special attention to the metaphors which they use. Four features in pamgftlar_are prominent: ...___----------------_-------—=-^ /First, the natural (human-like) agencies socialize withj the hunter-gatherers.; i ae ivibuti moiimqgestivaljfor example, is, m tact, precisely about this: the Forest visits the Mbuti camp, plays music, and sings with the people (Tumbull 1961). The Batek similarly say that the supernatural spirits, called hala', "come to earth merely for the pleasure of sharing a good singing session with the Batek." During the fruit season, Batek frequently sing for—and with—the natural spirits (Endicott 1979:219). The Nayaka confine the merriment ot a communal get-together with the natural agencies to a festival normally held once a year. However, throughout this festival, whichjasts 24 hours, they converse, dance, sing, eat, and even share cigarettes with natural-cum-ancestral spirits, which they invoke by shamanistic performances. Second, the(čtatural agencies give food and gifts to everyone, regardless of specific kinship ties or prior reciprocal obligationsJThe Mbuti, for example, explicitly say that "the forest gives them... food and shelter, warmth , and clothing" (Turnbull 1976 [i96s|:253i 1978:16s). They view game, honey, and other natural foods as "gifts" (Turnbull 1976 [19651:161, 180, 277« 1961:61. Third, the people regard themselves as "children of" the forest, the term connoting generic ties rather than simply bonds of emotion andcare. For example, not only do Mbuti often refer to the forest as "father" and "mother" (Turnbull 1965:252; cf. Mosko 1987) and say that it "gives them . . . affection" (1965:253) but also they describe it as the source of all spiritual matter and power, including the vital essence of people's lives Finally, these groups not only depict their ties with the natural agencies as ties of sharing between relatives but also explain experiences which could be seen to be at odds with this cultural representation in its own terms, as temporary, accidental, and remediable excep-tions. The Mbuti, for example, say that mishaps occur when the forest is asleep. Then they have to awaken it by singing and "draw the forest's attention to the immediate needs -üne environment—saturated with personal pSwéřsand embracing both human beings, the animals and plants on which they depend, and the landscape in which they live and move. In the culture-sensitive, anthropological account, however, what is taken to be literally true of relationships among humans is assumed tö"pe only metaphorically true of dealings with the ňňň-: human environment Thus if is said that sharing an accurate description of what goes on between human members of a hunter-gatherer band, provides the people with a metaphor for expressing their relations with "nature." In the one case it belongs to the language of the objective account (of a social reality), in the other it becomes incorporated into the language of subjective representation, superimposed upon the objective reality of nature. The Western dichotomy between society and nature is thereby reproduced despite the hunter-gatherer's insistence on its dissolution. Nature, we say, does not really share with people (as people really share with one another in society). We know, from scientific ecology. what nature is really like. Hunter-gatherers' representations may be appealing and congenial, but they have got it wrong. / gest that we start again from the opposite prem- ,.„ ^ .__-■ Jiey have got it rightie-in other words, that the [notion of trust correctly captures the quality ot relation^ ' janter-gatherers nave with constituents ot their eip ironmentjund that it is manifested just as well in trans-actions with other humans that we might describe as sharing as in transactions with non-human constituents that we might describe as hunting and gathering. What we need, then, is not a culture-sensitive account tčTřě? place a naturalistic ecology, tor, as we have seen, the former—ostensibly couched in the language, of metaphorical representations—actually presupposes the possibility ot an alternative, literal account of the natural world that the latter purports to deliver. Rather, we need a new kind of ecological anAropdlöjv that would take as its Starting Point the active pfrrepmal engagement of human beings with the constituents of their world. And the first step in its establishment must be to dis-solve the facile identification of "the environment" with "nature" as a world out there, given independently of human involvement. For hunter-gatherers as for the rest of us, life is given in engagement, not in disengagement, and it is in that very engagement that the real world at once ceases to be "nature" and becomes an environment for people.