The increased emphasis on mixed methods and multidisciplinary approaches in social sciences have their equivalents within the biological sciences. Relatively young fields such as NCT emerged out of a discontent over what was seen as an overly reductionist, deterministic, and gene-centric emphasis within evolutionary science; a response to the
‘gene-centric’ approach to evolution championed by Neo-Darwinism (such as Dawkins 1989). The ideas surrounding NCT were first introduced to evolutionary biology by Lewontin (1982; 1983) who argued that modern biological theory had a fundamental
contradiction in seeing natural selection as a process of trial-and-error adaptation; “The environment poses the problem while the characteristics of organisms are regarded as their solution” (Lewontin 1982, 157). In this view, adaptation is seen as a linear process towards a ‘goal’ of producing organisms that are increasingly ‘improved’. Lewontin (1982, 159) argued that this is not only an inaccurate view of how natural selection works but it alienates the organism from the environment:
There must be a challenge for there to be a response, a problem for there to be a solution. That is, the metaphor of adaptation begins with a world in which an organism’s environment is somehow defined without reference to the organism itself, but as a given to which the organism adapts itself.
The problem, according to Lewontin (1982, 167), is that the environment is always something ‘out there’ that appears as a challenge or problem to be solved. Thus, it is always the organism that responds to the environment and never vice versa. One of Lewontin’s main points was that the organism and the environment cannot be separated as they lose meaning without reference to each other; “organisms assemble their environment out of the bits and pieces of the world. Indeed, an environment is nature organized by an organism” (Lewontin 1982, 160, original emphasis). His second main point was that organisms do not passively adapt to the environment, they actively construct and alter it (Lewontin 1982, 160–3).
4.4.1. NCT and archaeology
Lewontin realised NCT had particular significance regarding human behaviour (1982, 168) but Odling-Smee et al. (2003) and Laland and O’Brien (2010) were the scholars to specifically appeal to archaeology and other social sciences as being a fundamental part of understanding this new perspective. Odling-Smee et al. (2003, 27) sympathised with the frustration felt by social scientists that genetically determinist evolutionary theory has little to offer due to the assumed exclusiveness of genetic inheritance that “renders all the other consequences of human cultural activities evolutionarily irrelevant.” Instead, they argue humans are the ‘ultimate niche constructors’, which places archaeology alongside biological sciences in its potential to contribute to our understanding of evolution.
In recent years, archaeologists from numerous backgrounds have welcomed NCT as an intuitive way of understanding the record especially within the context of agricultural origins and/or domestication (Crawford 2011; Rowley-Conwy and Layton 2011; Smith
2012; Zeder 2012a; Hunt and Rabett 2014). In particular, Zeder (2012a; 2014; 2015b) and Bruce Smith (2012; 2014; 2015) see NCT as an alternative to OFT models that have dominated much archaeological theory. Both argue the problem with OFT models mirrors that of Neo-Darwinism as it situates people within a one-way adaptive framework where they are constantly being forced to adapt to negative changes surrounding them. This is particularly true for the explanatory frameworks surrounding agricultural origins and domestication; where diversification or intensification of resources is usually explained within the context of resource depression caused by population growth or environmental deterioration (Zeder 2012a, 241). However, Zeder (2012a, 241) argues numerous examples do not fit this explanation, in particular resource abundance is often shaped partially “by deliberate human efforts at ecosystem engineering intended to promote resource productivity.”
These sentiments chime well with archaeologists working within Asia who have been unsatisfied with the current discourse surrounding agriculture and domestication as there are increasingly numerous examples that do not fit ‘push models’ of optimal foraging, environmental stress, or climatic change (Cohen 2011; Crawford 2011; Denham 2011;
Aikens and Lee 2014; Hunt and Rabett 2014; Piper and Rabett 2014). Denham (2011) argues that definitions of agricultural/domestication origins that focus on domestication of plants or animals miss a large part of the story, a sentiment also expressed by Cohen (2011).
Both stress the importance of social factors and deliberate choices people make. Further, Hunt and Rabett (2014, 25) argue the assumption that forests in SEA are ‘untouched’
is a Eurocentric one, as is the dichotomy between foraging and farming; “distinctions between ‘wild’ and ‘cultivated’ plants, or between ‘foraging’ and ‘farming’ lifestyles (are) at best blurred and at worst meaningless”. They argue there is evidence that ‘management mentality’ (i.e. niche construction) was in existence in SEA long before the ‘Neolithic’
and these niche-constructing activities developed alongside traditional hunter gatherer economies rather than replacing them (Hunt and Rabett 2014, 30–1).
This mirrors arguments made by Crawford (2011) for agricultural origins in the Holocene of Japan where there is no evidence for resource depression or population packing. In particular, the Jōmon period has always been conceptually debated as it cannot be pigeonholed into any one description: “The orthodox view that the Jōmon developed and sustained itself for millennia relatively passively in a naturally rich environment is an oversimplification if not incorrect” (Cohen 2011, 334). Crawford argues there is significant evidence of increased niche construction activities from the Jōmon period
onward. For example, peaches (Prunus persica) are a fruit not native to Japan but they appear at the Early Jōmon site of Ikiriki by 6,700–6,400 cal. BP (Zheng et al. 2014, 7).
Based on seed size the authors suggest that this may represent early domestication but it also hints at early contact with the Chinese mainland (Zheng et al. 2014, 7). Further, soy beans and millet also significantly increase in size and there are differences between wild forms of plants and those excavated at Jōmon sites which suggest deliberate and sustained exploitation of specific resources (Crawford 2011, 333–5). Likewise, as discussed before (section 4.2.2.2) the use of pigs (Sus scrofa) during the Jōmon does not fall neatly into any particular category. Although the pig was one of the most important food resources, they were the same size as wild boar and their age and sex distributions did not match expectations of a managed population (Anezaki 2007). However, it is clear that from the Early to Mid Holocene, these ‘wild boars’ were treated differently to other wild animals, through inclusion in human burials and translocation to offshore islands (section 4.2.2.2.).
These examples show why NCT is becoming a popular explanatory framework. The more we learn from the archaeological record in the SEA region the less it fits into our presupposed models of human development. It allows for the introduction of concepts such as agency into the frame.
4.4.2. Critiques of NCT
Although some proponents argue that NCT and OFT are not mutually exclusive viewpoints (Broughton et al. 2010; Broughton et al. 2011; see comments O’Brien and Laland 2012; Smith 2013) the debate has been characterised by heavy disagreement.
Gremillion et al. (2014) have been critical of the recent surge in interest of NCT and Zeder and Bruce Smith’s rejection of OFT. They argue the peaked interest in NCT,
‘particularism’, and agency is a result of the increase in data around the world which portrays variability within the pathways by which people adopted food production (Gremillion et al. 2014, 6171). However, they argue that agency is ultimately constrained by natural selection and that NCT is in danger of suggesting people purposely invented agriculture and domestication, or that it emerged randomly (Gremillion et al. 2014, 6175).
This concern over the definition of ‘agency’ is occasionally mirrored in the biological sciences. Within NCT, the re-emphasis on the organism as an active participant allows for the inclusion of concepts that evolutionary biology always had difficulty with: agency, intentionality, and the nature of consciousness (Cartmill 2000; Cartmill and Lofstrom
2000; Griffin 2000). In biology, Morgan’s Canon is a rule against attributing human-like mental states to other animals, otherwise known as anthropomorphism. Cartmill (2000, 841) argued this rule was not only inhibiting scientific inquiry but was also unhelpful in the attempt to understand consciousness, as denying animals mental states does not resolve the problem. In recent years Morgan’s Canon has come under increasing fire from a number of disciplines. This is partly due to increasing research into the complexity of animal behaviour (Allen-Hermanson 2012; Herman 2012; Andrews and Huss 2014) but also the influence of Post-Humanist scholars such as Derrida (2002) and Haraway (1990;
2008b).
The concern Gremillion et al. (2014) have over ‘agency’ is largely based on different understandings and definitions of the term. Sceptics of its use in domestication or evolution tend to understand agency as intent or conscious action. This is opposed to current conceptions of agency which emphasise the ability to act, engage, affect, or influence in a relational manner (see section 4.3.1.). As discussed above, intent or conscious action do not necessarily have to be involved. Eric Smith (2013, 115) argues that evolutionary theory models do not necessarily deny the importance of human agency, cultural variation and historical change. He argues that those who remain sceptical often have an idea of biology as fixed and predetermined, while culture is seen as mutable and agentive (Smith 2013, 115). This is ironically the exact dualism that many social scientists and humanists are attempting to avoid.
Even strict proponents of OFT concede there are problems with some of the basic assumptions. Lupo (2007, 173) admits that zooarchaeological analyses: “often proceed as if currency and proximate goal are well known and invariant. Most analysts assume that foragers always attempt to maximise the long-term net rate of gain.” Lupo (2007, 174) also points out that researchers studying other animals do not presume goals to be static and in fact studies show that goals can be quite variable within different contexts and circumstances. Nonetheless, Lupo (2007, 148–9) maintains that these issues do not invalidate the use of OFT, though a higher degree of complexity underlies human resource choice than previously imagined.
Eric Smith (2013, 114) sees more similarity in OFT and NCT than either of its proponents would allow and quips that the current debate “seems to be more concerned with labels and alliance formation.” However, I suggest it runs much more deeply into the heart of academia. Ingold (2000b, 29) gave a devastating critique of OFT, outlining the inherent paradox in defining ‘Western humanity’ by ‘reason’ while hunter-gatherers and animals are
defined by Darwinian rationality and any deviations from optimal foraging expectations are explained by ‘culture’. Ultimately, the assumptions that underlie OFT are bound up in the ‘Great Division’ between nature/culture and a reliance on human exceptionalism. In this sense, NCT mirrors the current Post-Structuralist academic zeitgeist, which seeks to undermine these divisions and expose the assumptions they rest on.