This covers part 3 of the book Sex at Dawn: The Prehistoric Origins of Modern Sexuality. (You can see my reaction to part 1 here. and my reaction to part 2 here.) There are 4 chapters in this section.
Chapter 11: The Wealth of Nature: (Poor?)
This chapter largely covers errors in the thinking of Thomas Malthus and Thomas Hobbes. Malthus used the growth rate of Europeans in the Americas from 1650-1800 to calculate that human population would double every 25 years. This is not a growth rate that humanity has experienced for the majority of its existence -- were it the case that human population doubled every 25 years at all times in history, and world population was roughly 1 billion in 1800 (Wikipedia, for good or ill, posits 1 billion as human population in 1804), that would work out to fewer than 1 person in 1050. Doing the same calculation from today's 7 billion in 2013 would result in fewer than 1 person in 1188. [I ran these calculations; they're not directly in the chapter.] Obviously, those numbers are wrong, so something's up with the growth rate. Instead, they cite sources that the global human population went from about 10,000 protohumans to about 4,000,000 modern humans over 2 million years of being hunter gatherers. Similarly, they attributed Hobbes' view of human nature to his historical context of warfare and religious persecution in England, and in Europe more generally.
They then make the argument that global populations were low, and therefore resources were not scarce. The argue ovulation in hunter gatherers doesn't start until late teens, children are breastfed for 5-6 years at a time, and conception is rare during breastfeeding. All are largely true, though that last point is actually dependent on overall nutritional status of the mother -- family planning based on breastfeeding is hardly foolproof (which I say as a younger child born more rapidly than planned on based on such assumptions: I am a year and 4 days younger than my breastfed brother; you do the math). Still, let's take those numbers at face value. Assuming ovulation beginning at 18, menopause in mid to late 30s, 6 year intervals on birth, that would be a child at ages 18, 24, 30, 36, so likely 4 or 5 child per woman. Assuming some premature deaths and the occasional sterile individual, let's say that means 3 surviving children per woman. That is still enough for a 50% population increase every generation, which is around 27 years. Changing the calculation to a 50% growth every 27 years, the 1 billion people in 1800 would get down to approximately 1 in 882. These factors alone cannot possibly explain how low the human population growth rate was. As the authors argue that humans were spreading into an open ecological niche (and thus weren't locked into a struggle against one another for scarce resources), something else must have been going on.
Basic biology argues that a population expanding into an open ecological niche will rapidly expand in population. The reasons why a population would not be expanding in size are largely limited to:
1: There is a high death rate (predation, disease, challenging physical environment, etc)
2: They have already reached carrying capacity of the system (and thus aren't expanding into an open niche)
The authors then go on to recount stories of a) a few specific communities of an Italian region and their descendents in the new world who were remarkably egalitarian and showed low rates of heart disease, and b) individuals from Tierra del Fuego who had been brought to England to be "civilized", then returned to their homeland and giving up the trapping of Western civilization to return to the normal way of life of their people.
Overall, this chapter's numbers do not make sense, and don't really do much to bolster arguments about what prehistorical human sexual practices were like. There are also repeated assertions that ancestral humans were fundamentally nomadic, but there isn't evidence provided to back this up.
Chapter 12: The Selfish Meme (Nasty?)
This chapter starts with a discussion of the Prisoner's Dilemma. For those unfamiliar with it, it's a basic starting point of a lot of game theory. Imagine that you and another person are brought in by the police for questioning. They tell you that they have some evidence of the two of you committing a crime, but can't *quite* prove the top count. If you rat out the other guy, he'll go to jail for 10 years, while you walk free. If you both stay silent, you'll be convicted of lesser charges and go to jail for 6 months. And if you both talk, you'll both end up in jail for 5 years. They're offering the other guy the same deal. What do you do?
If you're playing the game just once, the correct answer is to rat the other guy out. Why? Well, let's say you have no idea what your partner will do. If he keeps quiet, if you rat him out you go free; if you keep quiet, you go to jail for 6 months. Ratting him out looks better. If he rats you out, if you keep quiet you go to jail for 10 years; if you rat him out, you go to jail for 5 years. Again, ratting him out is the better deal. No matter what he does.
As expected, when you experiment with people and offer them this sort of situation, most people pick to rat the other guy out. The authors then discuss some of the work of Robert Axelrod, showing that if people play the game repeatedly, they start cooperating a lot more often, as they don't want to develop the reputation of ratting the other guy out. This is because they are no longer playing Prisoner's Dilemma -- they are playing Iterated Prisoner's Dilemma, which is a different game. Now they aren't looking for the one-off reward, they're looking to maximize their long-term payoff, and people who can get into long strings of cooperation do better. There is extensive mathematical literature on this in both evolutionary biology and economics. Memory, the ability to select one's partner, and spatial structure are all widely-recognized ways to promote the evolution of cooperation in an Iterated Prisoner's Dilemma.
They then go on to discuss the problems of the thought behind the Tragedy of the Commons. This is another frequent concept in evolutionary biology, this one derived largely from a 1968 paper by Garett Hardin. The idea is that when you have private ownership of some resource (for example, cattle herds) which consume a public resources (in this case, grazing in the common areas), then it will be in each individual's best interest to over-exploit the common resource since the pain of lowered production is shared by everyone, while they reap the profits of their extra cattle. In essence, the pie is getting smaller, but they're getting a larger fraction of it and thus still coming out ahead. Therefore, public resources need some sort of policing mechanism or else the whole system crashes.
As the authors point out, the actual commons being discussed do have policing mechanisms. This doesn't invalidate the general point of tragedy of the commons, it just limits what commons it refers to. Several of the items they list -- open seas, skies, rivers -- are seen as the relevant commons in much of the theoretical discussion of tragedy of the commons these days.
The authors then tie in the work of Robin Dunbar, who argues that with groups larger than about 150 people, individuals do not all know each other and each other's relationships within the group, and social cohesion breaks down. I've always been a bit skeptical of the notions of Dunbar's number as a tipping point, but that's merely a personal reaction and not a fleshed out scientific response.
The chapter then goes on to discuss possible evidence of the detrimental effect of agriculture on humans -- increase in chronic malnutrition, vitamin and mineral deficiency, increased time spent working for food (based on time usage of modern groups, which they assume is the same as was true for ancestral groups -- an assumption I continue to have problems with), and the small sizes of medieval European armor equating with short people. I do know from my college history classes that there is widespread belief among historians that the preserved armor from medieval Europe was the armor made for display, not use, and thus wasn't crafted at full size, but these authors do cite evidence of pre-agriculture peoples in Greece and Turkey being slightly taller than modern residents of those countries.
After this, the chapter goes on to discuss some potential evidence of the benefits of more relaxed ways. Work by Frans de Waal and Denise Johanowizc on two species of macaques -- one typically aggressive, and one far less so -- where they showed that by housing them together they could shift the more aggressive species markedly less so gives a distant primate example that aggressiveness can be socially modulated. And work by Robert Sapolsky (disclaimer: I had a friend who worked in his lab while we were both in the grad program at Stanford) on a field cite of baboons showed that a fluke event which killed off the majority of the aggressive males in the study population but left the others alone resulted in long-term decreases in aggression in this population, even so long after that virtually all of the males in the current population immigrated from other ones.
I find this chapter to either involve a misleading oversimplification of some basic points of game theory, or else to show a misunderstanding of those points. It continues to insist that hunter-gatherers would have had low stress, high leisure societies, but I don't think they've actually demonstrated this about ancestral human groups.
Chapter 13: The Never-Ending Battle over Prehistoric War (Brutish?)
This chapter starts with a criticism of a TED talk by Steven Pinker, in which Pinker discusses percentage of male deaths due to warfare in various societies, all of which are higher than the US and Europe in the 20th century. Most of these other societies are at least partially horticultural societies, which grow substantial crops, and this I feel is a worthwhile criticism of them representing hunter-gatherer societies. I am less convinced of the relevance of the objection that they aren't completely nomadic, as I don't think the authors have actually established that ancestral humans were entirely nomadic.
Next, the authors turn to the lack of bonobos in the discussion of the deep history of warfare and rape among our ape ancestors. While I feel this is somewhat justified in the discussion of warfare -- as warfare discussions among non-humans are typically limited to just chimpanzees, and there's no compelling reason to think our ancestors were more like chimpanzees than like bonobos (and, conversely, no compelling reason to assume the opposite either) -- I feel it isn't particularly compelling in the case of bonobos, as the discussion of rape among apes does include gorillas and orangutans. From a phylogenetic context, it's more likely that something seen among all apes other than bonobos is something the bonobo lineage has stopped doing since separating from the chimp lineage, rather than that the lineage to humans-chimps-bonobos stopped doing and which the lineages leading to chimps and leading to humans both later reacquired.
The book then goes on to discuss the work of Margaret Powers, who called into question some of the findings of Jane Goodall on the chimpanzees at Gombe. Notably, Powers argues that the increased aggression observed at Gombe after the first few years of the study could be laid at the feet of the researchers provisioning the chimps with hundreds of ripe bananas each day during a limited window of time each day. That creation of a highly valuable, physically and temporally restricted resource gave the chimps something to fight over, and may have led directly to the aggression observed. This is a valid point. Unfortunately, they then take this too far in their attempts to apply it to humans, such as their statement that "women and men would have been free to move among different bands in the fission-fusion social system typical of hunter-gatherers, chimps, and bonobos." (p. 191). Maybe. But immigrants in all of these groups end up at the bottom of the social hierarchy (and in both chimps and bonobos, immigrants of only a single sex are typically accepted), and social status has substantial effects of reproductive success.
The authors then go on to discuss how increasing population density appears to be strongly linked to increasing aggression. This seems logical to me. But why would a switch to agriculture automatically lead to higher population density? The authors have argued extensively that foraging resulted in better health, and less malnutrition, than in agricultural societies. If population growth was extremely slow in foraging groups, and agricultural groups had worse health outcomes, how would they have had substantially higher population sizes?
The authors then effectively point out the problems with Napoleon Chagnon's study of the Yanomami people. This take down is well sourced and logically compelling.
It seems to me that many of the points of this chapter are predicated on the assumption that ancestral foragers were inherently nomadic, which I continue to have problems with since I don't feel the authors have documented evidence that this was the case.
Chapter 14: The Longevity Lie (Short?)
This chapter starts out with a reasonable description of how the mean doesn't always give you a useful number about something. Specifically, life expectancy at birth won't tell you much about typical life span if there is high infant mortality -- the mean will be a lot lower than what is typical for people who make it to adulthood. This is completely true. They go on to state that a lot of infant mortality once attributed to starvation and disease probably resulted from infanticide. No citation provided on this in ancestral groups, but rates of 20-50% are reported for several modern forager societies. That is extremely high. Infanticide rates of 50% would have been enough to keep foragers from rapidly filling an open ecological niche, but that would argue that the switch to agriculture isn't what led to the problems associated with population density and resource scarcity, but instead that these are due to a reduction in the voluntary killing of infants. That paints the whole thing in a rather different light.
The authors then go on to talk about how many deadly human diseases come from domesticated animals. This is definitely true in general, though I do disagree with one of their claimed ones: malaria. Given that almost all malarial cases are caused by infected mosquitoes biting humans, and that mosquitoes pick up the infectious agent from many different reservoir sources, I don't think this can be laid at the feet of animal domestication in the way that measles, tuberculosis, smallpox and the like can. It's also clearly not going to apply to all the types of diseases that have plagued humanity. Cholera, for example, becomes more common at higher human population densities, but the causative agents can also live quite well in the environment, and drinking water that has the relevant bacteria in it can cause an initial infection.
There follows a discussion of stress, which the work of Robert Sapolsky, among others, has shown to be quite damaging to health. I have no quibbles with this. I don't, however, feel that they have shown conclusively that chronic stress was lower in prehistoric foraging societies than in agricultural societies, so I'm not confident of the conclusions they draw based on that assertion.
The authors conclude this section with an argument that appeals to the past as terrible and the present as markedly better are inherently conservative, as they deflect criticism away from any current organization of society. They assert that a dispassionate review of the evidence shows that the tens of thousands of years before agriculture were marked by "robust health, peace between individuals and groups, low levels of chronic stress and high levels of overall satisfaction for most of our ancestors." I would argue that a dispassionate review of their own claims and (lack of) evidence to back them up shows that their arguments are flawed, and that they don't have evidence that actually supports many of their assertions about the prehistoric social environment. I don't feel they've clearly established what the ancestral human social environment was like, and thus claims based on this purported environment are going to be dubious.