Ideas on the Content of Culture.
Broadly speaking,
there are two distinguishable approaches: (1)
those
which essentially constitute a critique of modern civi-
lization, stressing its cultural
fragmentation, and (2)
those which conceive of culture as an integral
whole.
At times both positions have been held concurrently,
the
critique of disunity being in fact a plea for unity.
(1) Culture versus Civilization. When Diderot,
Rousseau, Herder, the
romantics, or, more recently,
Spengler, pointed up the contrast between the
natural,
organic, creative, genuine, on the one hand, and the
artificial, mechanical, stereotyped, and superficial, on
the other, between
the nobility, deep-rootedness, free-
dom, and
equality of the savage, or the contentment
of medieval man, and the
corruption, alienation, ser-
vility, and
exploitation of modern man, the chief
impetus was invariably polemical.
That the apotheosis
of primitive or medieval man was or was not support-
able by anthropology or history was
scarcely relevant.
What mattered was to unmask the pretensions of con-
temporary civilization, to puncture the
pride and
complacency that went with it. Underlying the polem-
ics was a craving for spontaneity,
sincerity, and warm
sensibility rather than cold rationality, the
concrete
rather than the abstract, and a recognition of the in-
comparability and immeasurability of
things. Though
Vico's ideas were seminal in a number of these direc-
tions, they were rarely known at first,
and there can
be little doubt that Diderot's influence was the most
pervasive, soon to be followed by that of Rousseau and
Herder.
Diderot's critique of contemporary society, center-
ing on the self-estrangement of modern man, finds its
most
pungent articulation in his novel Rameau's
Nephew
(Le Neveu de Rameau) written in the
1760's
but not published during his lifetime. The abject
Rameau extols
vice, but in doing so, uncovers the
inversion and perversion of prevailing
values. Rous-
seau's
Discourse on the Arts and Sciences (Discours sur
les arts et sciences, 1750), written some
fifteen years
earlier, though with Diderot's encouragement, also
pursues the theme of alienation. Rousseau does not
claim that human nature
was intrinsically better before
the advance of the arts and sciences, only
that social
life and mores were in closer harmony with it. Modern
civilization imposed its pattern on men, unlike the
original
cultures which grew out of men's needs. What
is more, modern civilization
imposed a wholly uniform
pattern, casting every mind in the same mold.
“Polite-
ness requires this,
decorum that; ceremony has its set
forms, fashion its laws, and these we
must always fol-
low, never the promptings of our
own nature”
(
Oeuvres, Deterville ed., I,
10).
In the Discourse on the Origin of Inequality (Dis-
cours sur l'origine de
l'inégalité, 1754) Rousseau assails,
as
Vico had done before him, the natural law theorists
for mistaking the
artificial for the original, for making
man a philosopher before he is a
man, and for giving
the name of natural law to a collection of norms
they
happen to find expedient, thus rationalizing existing
practices
and institutions, in particular that of private
property. Such natural laws
may be in conformity with
modern civilization, but they have nothing in
common
with original customs and traditions. Private property
may
indeed have ushered in the era of civilization, but
what has it done to the
traditional way of life of earlier
cultures? “It now became the
interest of men to appear
what they really were not. To be and to seem became
two completely
different things.” Men lost their sense
of identity; they became
estranged from themselves
and from each other. In place of the bonds of
organic
community relations there arose “rivalry and competi-
tion on the one hand and conflicting
interests on the
other” (Oeuvres, I,
286).
Herder's indictment of his age was no less severe.
Few documents constitute
so devastating an attack on
contemporary civilization as his Yet Another Philoso-
phy of
History (Auch eine Philosophie der
Geschichte,
1774). With the incisiveness of a surgeon's knife it
lays
bare the sores of the eighteenth-century world. The
so-called
enlightenment and civilization have affected
only a few in a narrow strip
of the globe, and even
where light has been shed, ominous shadows are
never
far afield. Civilization has forced people into mines,
into
treadmills, and into cities which are fast becoming
slag-heaps of human
vitality and energy. So much in
the arts, in industry, in war and civil
life has been
mechanized that the human machine has
lost its zest
to function. Man is alienated from himself: head and
heart are rent apart. The culture of the age is a paper
culture, its ideals
mere abstractions, instruments of
self-deception (Werke, V, 532-41).
Much of what these critics had to say on the ills
of eighteenth-century
civilization in Europe, on alien-
ation,
acquisitiveness, colonialism, and so on, reverber-
ates in subsequent sociopolitical writings; but nowhere
is the
parallelism of mood and terminology quite so
striking as in Oswald
Spengler's Decline of the West
(Der Untergang des Abendlandes, 1918-23). For
Spengler civilization marks the disintegration, the last
dying
phase of a culture. In his characterization of
civilization one encounters
practically every one of the
themes just traced. The basic source of
cultural decline
Spengler sees in the giant city, the
“megalopolis,” as
he calls it. Its society is not a
community but a “mass,”
leading a sort of nomadic,
parasitic life, devoid of past
or future. Rootless, restless,
traditionless, it is constantly
on the move, knowing neither whither nor
why. In
the end the city—and with it
civilization—proves the
negation of the negation, the seed of
its own destruc-
tion (I, 31-34, 424; II,
310; trans. C. F. Atkinson, New
York [1926-28]).
For writers such as Kant, Coleridge, and Matthew
Arnold, culture represents
essentially the moral condi-
tion of the
individual, while civilization means the
conventions of society. Invariably
the former is also
associated with “spiritual”
values, the latter with “ma-
terial” values. Remarking that Rousseau was not so far
wrong when he preferred the state of the savages, Kant
adds (in the Seventh
Proposition of the “Idea of a
Universal History”)
that though we are civilized, “even
to excess in the way of all
sorts of social forms of
politeness and elegance... there is still much to
be
done before we can be regarded as moralized.” Exter-
nal propriety merely constitutes
civilization; only the
idea of morality “belongs to real
culture.” This distinc-
tion, and
to some extent the skepticism about the value
of civilization, became quite
common in nine-
teenth-century
English writing, largely owing to the
influence of Samuel Taylor Coleridge,
an ardent disci-
ple of Kant.
“Civilization,” Coleridge writes in On
the
Constitution of Church and State (1830, Ch. V):
... is itself but a mixed good, if not far more a corrupting
influence,
the hectic of disease, not the blossom of health,
and a nation so
distinguished more fitly to be called a
varnished than a polished
people, where civilization is not
grounded in cultivation, in the
harmonious development of
those qualities and faculties that
characterize our humanity.
Matthew Arnold, another leading advocate of cul-
ture in terms of moral self-perfection, interestingly
anticipated in
his Culture and Anarchy (1869) C. P.
Snow's theme of
the “two cultures.” Culture is first
and foremost
moral improvement and not “merely or
primarily [the perfection]
of the scientific passion for
pure knowledge” (Ch. 1). Toynbee,
by contrast, gener-
ally understood by
civilization the highest development
of social cultures from their
primitive origins (op. cit.,
I, 438).
None of these distinctions, however, has found reso-
nance in the writings of modern cultural anthropolo-
gists, the first leading exponent of whom was E.
B.
Tylor. In his Primitive Culture (1871, p. 1) he defined
culture as “that complex whole which includes knowl-
edge, belief, art, law, morals, custom,
and any other
capabilities and habits acquired by man as a member
of
society.” This holistic conception was, however, not
entirely
novel; it had its intellectual antecedents from
Vico to Herder and beyond.
(2) Culture as an Integral Whole. Vico's ideas prove
highly original in this
direction also. Both his multiple-
independent-origin theory and his theory of cyclical
development
clearly indicate that he thought of cul-
tures
in terms of wholes or configurations. At each stage
of its development a
given culture represents a com-
plex of
interrelated and interdependent constituents,
each of which shares with the
others certain distinctive
characteristics. “As from a trunk,
there branch out from
one limb logic, morals, economics, and
politics,” Vico
wrote in the New Science
(§367). Diderot, in D'Alem-
bert's Dream (Le
Rêve de D'Alembert, 1769), employed
the image of a
swarm of bees in order to give expression
to this notion of organic unity,
i.e., to the idea that
a whole is qualitatively unique and different from
a
mere aggregate of individual parts. The conception of
a whole as a
complex whole characterizes also Voltaire's
epoch-making contribution to the study of culture, the
Essai sur les moeurs. Civilization, for Voltaire,
is a
totality forged by men in their social life and actions.
Few
thinkers before or after him penetrated more
profoundly into the
“spirit of the time,” a concept he
was the first to
express; yet only rarely did he succeed
in transcending the values of his
own times. While he
strongly emphasized the need for a harmonious
balance
of diverse human aspirations, his criterion for what
constituted a proper balance was highly culture-bound,
a fact which the
young Herder was not slow in observ-
ing. Why,
Herder asked in Yet Another Philosophy,
should we
take for granted that the beliefs of past ages
were the same as ours, their
standard of happiness
identical to our own? “Has not each man,
each nation,
each period, the center of happiness within itself, just
as every sphere has its center of gravity?” (Werke, V,
509).
Though Herder's thought owed much to Voltaire,
it marks an important
departure from Voltaire's cul-
tural monism.
Herder felt it would be more accurate
to speak of specific
cultures—in the plural—rather than
of culture in
general. There is no such thing, Herder
further declared, as a people
devoid of culture. To be
sure, there are differences, but these are
differences
of degree, not of kind. To apply the standard of Euro-
pean culture as a standard for comparison,
let alone
as a universal yardstick of human values, is plainly
meaningless. Each culture carries within itself its own
immanent validity,
and hence we have to think of the
world as being composed of uniquely
different socio
cultural entities, each with its own pattern of develop-
ment, its own inner dynamic growth.
Although Herder was mainly concerned with elicit-
ing sources of integration within a given culture, he
recognized
that there were subcultures that could ex-
ercise a divisive no less than a unifying influence. “A
nation,” he writes, “may have the most sublime
virtues
in some respects and blemishes in others... and reveal
the
most astonishing contradictions and incongruities”
(ibid., V,
506). To speak, therefore, of a cultural whole
is not necessarily a way of
referring to a state of blissful
harmony; it may just as conceivably refer
to a field
of tension. In contrast to those who identified culture
with spiritual pursuits, and civilization with material
progress, Herder
rejected the dualism between “mate-
rial” and “non-material” activity.
Artifacts are as much
part of culture as ideas, beliefs, and values.
Culture
comprises all of man's creative activities, both what
he does and what he thinks. Of
particular concern to
Herder were culture determinants that help to
produce
a sense of collective identity, and these he identified
chiefly with language, shared symbols and values, cus-
toms and norms of reciprocity. Physical environmental
factors he
considered of secondary importance, capable
of “only
influencing, favorably or unfavorably, but not
of compelling a given course
of development,” as he
put it in the Ideas (ibid., XIII, 273). It is interesting,
both from the point of
view of modern anthropology
and also against the historical background of
the “age
of reason” to find that Herder saw in
nonrational ele-
ments significant molding
agents of social cultures.
Neither myths nor prejudices are dismissed by
him as
irrelevant aberrations. Furthermore, unlike subsequent
thinkers, Marxists in particular, Herder did not view
ideas and beliefs as
epiphenomenal, as mere super-
structures. Certain myths or religious doctrines, he
agreed, may
indeed be intimately associated with eco-
nomic
and political institutions and practices; but this
does not prove anything
about their respective origins
or significance, nor does it deny their
essential auton-
omy. By the same token,
whatever “functions” either
of them may be said to
perform within a given “sys-
tem” proves nothing about their necessary or even
sufficient conditions or interrelationships. Myths and
religions may or may
not serve the function of main-
taining
authoritarian (religious and/or political) struc-
tures, but this is not tantamount to saying that such
structures
would necessarily disappear with the disap-
pearance of myths and religions (or vice versa), or that
shamans, priests, or dictators invented certain beliefs,
or invariably used
them to deceive others without
accepting them themselves. “By
dismissing them as
cheats,” Herder observes in the Ideas (ibid., XIII, 307),
“one is
inclined to think that one has explained every-
thing. They may well have been cheats in many or
most places,
but this should not induce us to forget
that they were people too, and the
dupes of myths
older than themselves.”
Herder's historical relativism and cultural pluralism
affected, directly or
indirectly, the thinking of J. G.
Fichte, Friedrich Schlegel and Hegel, the
historical law
school of Savigny, the political romantics, J. S. Mill,
and the writing of cultural history up to Spengler, T.
S. Eliot, and
Toynbee. Nor has Herder's anatomy of
culture lost relevance for modern
sociology and an-
thropology. In particular
it demonstrates that situa-
tional-functional analysis, taken by itself, is inadequate
as an
explanatory tool if what we seek in terms of
explanation is evaluation of
content and/or determi-
nation of purpose,
and that, therefore, functionalism
can scarcely dispense with process
analysis. Thus, far
from being inconsistent, functional and historical
approaches are indeed complementary or interde-
pendent. Furthermore, Herder's heuristic principle of
treating
every manifestation of culture as essentially
autonomous, though
interrelated in the two-
dimensional
sense indicated, also implies that the ap-
plicable mode of causality is that of multiple causation.
Both the
idea of two-dimensional interaction and the
idea of multiple causation have
come to be recognized
as potentially fruitful perspectives or conceptual
aids
in the study of social cultures.