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Every so often, I see another media story about how a new kind of nuclear reactor that avoids all the horrible problems of the ones we have now is being studied, or a startup is looking to build one, or whatever. Don't be afraid of nuclear power, these articles proclaim, there is new, better technology that will resolve all the problems with the bad old reactors. The nuclear technologies I've seen mentioned like this make up a venn diagram of fast neutron reactors, molten salt reactors, and thorium reactors.

And these kinds of stories come from a mix of hucksterism and religion. Just as we have a religion of space enthusiasm (where solar power stations or helium 3 or whatever bullshit technology becomes the rallying cry for the religion's real goal, of having a city on the moon/Mars/in orbit, and having people permanently *Living in Space*), and the religion helps sustain huckster snake oil plutocrats who don't really care about space at all except as a way of siphoning off government subsidies and pumping up stock prices for their space technology companies -- so too we have a religion of Nuclear Power (it's the Future!), and nuclear power technology companies whose plutocrats have snake oil to sell. (PS: my data-free impression is that space enthusiasts vastly outnumber space hucksters, but for nuclear power, the ratio is much more even or perhaps reversed).

Some nuclear power advocates have at least half a leg to stand on (solar and wind are not 24/7/365 power sources, and nuclear power plants *are* a carbon-free way to provide round the clock power regardless of weather). But solar has become SO much cheaper than fossil fuel, let alone nuclear, that it leaves budgetary headroom for adding some kind of power storage to a solar farm and still being less expensive than the alternatives - and solar powered storage (like a lake that you pump full during the day and drain through hydroelectric generators at night) completely avoids all the regulatory and PR hassles of nuclear power.

Other nuclear advocates seem to Want to Believe in nuclear because they are right wing and regard solar as tainted by the leftist eco green conspiracy, or something? IDK.

But after encountering another "the new generation of (insert technical descriptor) nuclear power plants will completely avoid all the problems you've come to expect from nuclear power" article, I decided to try and figure out just how much truth there is to such articles. After picking away at the question for a while, I'm finally typing everything up so my time will not have been completely wasted. The rest of this post comes from reading far, far too many web pages (mostly on wikipedia but also elsewhere) devoted to nuclear power. ExpandRead more... )

Having read far too much and gone down far too many rabbit holes, I think I can say confidently that 90% of the claims in articles touting the bright future of new! improved! no longer dangerous or scary! nuclear power are hogwash. Things those articles tout nearly always involve making proliferation-enabling technologies routine (no one other than members of the Church of Nukes want this), assume that technologies still on the drawing board will work out as advertised (they never do), and/or gloss over many, many hard to solve problems. Meanwhile, right now, we already have the ability to just use renewables paired with energy storage. We soon won't need nuclear power anymore, yet somehow there are still scads of acolytes of the Nuclear Church who refuse to accept that their God has become irrelevant.
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The unmitigated pedantry blog recently posted about the "long peace" - the much reduced frequency of warfare, first in Europe, then worldwide, that started in 1815 with the end of Napoleon and has lasted (with a few interruptions) until now. The pedantry blog spoke approvingly of Azar Gat's work in providing an explanation of the Long Peace, and disapprovingly of Steven Pinker's bestseller "The Better Angels of Our Nature." I knew of the Pinker book but had never read it, and had never heard of Gat. I was intrigued by the explanation proffered in the blog, and decided to read Gat and Pinker. Which I have now done, and... Gat's argument about the long peace is interesting, but it's embedded in a steaming pile of authoritarian, fash-apologist garbage. Pinker's book makes almost exactly the same overarching fash-apologist argument, but with extra helpings of racism. What follows is my response to both author's discussion of human nature and war in prehistory. Their arguments about the "long peace" will have to wait for another post. This got long. ExpandRead more... )
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I've been having Thinky Thoughts about the racist, colonialist gatekeeping that goes on in archaeology and anthropology around which groups of people get to be called "agriculturalists" and which end up labelled as "hunter gatherers". Sources like wikipedia say the distinction is important because agriculture enables settled living, with higher population densities, and that in turn enables craft specialization, surplus resources, long term infrastructure, having nicer things, and so on.

But there are so many groups of people who did live in permanent or semi-permanent settlements and were able to have some or all of those knock on benefits, but who continue to be classed as "hunter gatherers" because they didn't *farm*. Or they didn't *plant crops*, even though they did maintain and harvest vast stands of edible wild plants. As research continues to turn up more and more examples of people who weren't nomads living sparsely in small groups and collecting only naturally occurring food sources, the "hunter gatherer" category looks more and more like a catch all for "anyone who doesn't make a living like our wheat growing ancestors."

The gatekeeping isn't only about restricting admittance to the sacred precincts of the "agriculturalist" club, it's also about preventing the creation of additional in-between labels to properly encompass the spectrum of strategies humans have used to feed themselves other than farming. Maintaining the dichotomy is vital to preserving the specialness of the agriculturalist in group and the subaltern status of everyone else. Instead, you find half-assed labels like "enhanced," "complex," or "affluent hunter gatherers." Even though the adjective and non-adjective groups share little in common apart from not being farmers. And even though the closer you look, the fewer regular food collecting cultures there were compared to (pick adjective) cultures.

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I originally planned to say something about forest gardens and some of the other people in the world who get classed as (adjective) hunter gatherers instead of farmers or farming-adjacent, but this post has grown too long, so there will be a part 2.
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Here at last is the third, very long, final part of my three part takedown of Incunabula's viral thread from early September.

To recap: there was a thread on Twitter by Incunabula that went viral last month. In James Burke-ian Connections style, Incunabula said that "Cheese ?? is one of the 5 things the Western book as we know it depends on. The other four are snails, Jesus, underwear and spectacles." The history in that thread ranges from over simplified and inaccurate, through simply wrong, to a disingenuous lie. Today I'm mostly covering the part about "snails" aka Phoenicians, alphabets, and how printing would never have taken off if Gutenberg had used a syllabary or a logosyllabic script instead of an alphabet. Which is built on a lie.

Part one: cheese and Christianity/mostly over simplified and inaccurate. Part two: underwear/simply wrong. The original viral thread that I am laboriously beating to death.

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To recap: there was a thread on Twitter by Incunabula that went viral a few weeks ago. In James Burke-ian Connections style, Incunabula says that "Cheese 🧀 is one of the 5 things the Western book as we know it depends on. The other four are snails 🐌, Jesus ✝️, underwear 🩲 and spectacles 👓." When I re-watched James Burke's "Connections" a year or so ago, in the places where I actually knew some of the history he was covering, mostly I just found myself thinking, "that's way oversimplified and leaving out a lot in order to sound neat." But sometimes, I would think, "that's just not so." This post covers one of the "that's just plain false" parts of Incunabula's highly Eurocentric and inaccurate thread.

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Just a short gruntle about blind spots in archaeology today. I will do another post about the annoying viral twitter thread by Incunabula soon.

Archaeology is a very vexing science. On the one hand, it's amazing that we are able to figure out so many things about humans who lived tens of thousands of years ago. On the other hand, archaeologists are so timid in their approach, so unwilling to commit to any conclusion that they cannot prove by means of the stones and bones they dig up, and so wedded to certain theories that give them huge blind spots and force them to propound absurd conclusions, like the one underlying the dates on the arrows in the Americas for this map from Wikipedia.

We know that around 60,000+ years ago, ice age humans built boats and navigated across the water between Sunda (southeast Asia plus some of Indonesia) and Sahul (the rest of Indonesia and New Guinea/Australia). Ice age humans knew how to build boats. We know this for certain, because the people of Australia and New Guinea arrived there at a time when there was ocean between them and the rest of Eurasia, which they had to cross.

But change the context to the Americas, and suddenly the fact that humans were building boats and going around on the ocean 60,000 years ago vanishes utterly, and the conventional archaeological view is that the Siberian people who would go on to become the original Americans were land-dwelling people who walked across Beringia (the land between Siberia and Alaska) to North America 25,000 years ago, then cooled their heels in Alaska for 10,000 years until an ice-free route through the Rocky Mountains opened up, allowing them to walk, or rather, sprint, overland from Alberta to Tierra Del Fuego in less than 2,000 years.

This despite the fact that in historical times, with much more moderate weather, people who make a living in the arctic have often been boat-using people who get much of their food from the sea. If post-ice age people found the best way to survive in the far north was by going on the water, fishing and hunting whales and seals, why are we expected to believe that ice age people, facing a much harsher climate, would limit themselves to the food they could find on land?

Part of this absurdity - the idea that ancient Americans only arrived south of the ice sheets 16,000 years ago - is finally starting to crumble under the increasing weight of evidence for a much older human presence in the Americas - from the 23,000 year old footprints of children found in White Sands National Monument (published just this week, sadly paywalled), to 30,000 year old tools found in caves in Mexico (open access version), and on to many more studies going back decades. The archaeological community is very good at straining at gnats and swallowing camels, attacking any evidence that contradicts the accepted conventional theory as being misdated, misinterpreted, or not actually of artefacts made by humans at all. In other words, these findings of people in the Americas 20,000+ years ago are still, sadly, controversial.

And it doesn't have to be this way. We know that humans built boats, even if none of those boats have survived to be dug up. We know that the sea shore and shallows are one of the richest habitats on the planet for food-collecting peoples - a fact obscured by the way that those who collect food from the sea have been labelled as "fishers" while land based food collectors are called "hunter gatherers."

There is no way. No. Way. that inland dwelling food collectors of 60,000-ish years ago walked to the end of the land in Sunda, built boats to get to Sahul, and then walked away from the shore inland. They were fishers and boat people, they lived on the shore. They travelled up rivers, looking for more good fishing spots, settling on lakes and marshes away from the shore, and gradually over time, the descendants of those fresh water boat people adapted to a fully land-based lifestyle and filled the interior of the continent.

We know that the sea today is around 120 meters higher than it was during the ice age, which means that all of the homes used by the sea peoples of 60,000 years ago are now buried deep under the water, but that doesn't mean they did not exist. If ice age people were building boats in Sahel 60,000 years ago, why are we expected to believe that ice age people 25,000 years ago in Siberia did not know how to build boats and walked to Alaska, then were stuck there for ten thousand years waiting for a clear walking path through the ice to the rest of America?

Thankfully, some archaeologists are more sensible than the bulk of their colleagues and have begun advocating for the initial peopling of the Americas to have been done by boat people who, having fished and sealed their way along the coast from Siberia through Beringia to Alaska, skirted the ice sheets covering the shore of the Northwest Coast, hopping from one ice-free cove or island to another until they got south of the ice and had clear rowing (or sailing) to warmer parts further south.

I find it far more believable that a boat-based, marine mammal hunting and fishing people just kept going south in their boats, filling the coast throughout both continents, then gradually moved inland, than the mainstream theory that the entire continent was filled virtually all at once by land-dwellers who sprinted through a dozen different climates and biomes, their population exploding while they were constantly on the move, on foot, ever southward.
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Eurocentric history tends to be very self-congratulatory. "(European guy) invented (arguably very important technology)," and "(historical change of import) happened because of (thing european or Greco-Roman people did)." It gets very tiresome, especially when the technology in question was actually invented hundreds or thousands of years earlier, far outside of the Euro-Greco-Roman sphere.

Today's example: a thread by Incunabula on Twitter. In James Burke-ian Connections style, he says that "Cheese 🧀 is one of the 5 things the Western book as we know it depends on. The other four are snails 🐌, Jesus ✝️, underwear 🩲 and spectacles 👓." Sigh. Burke's "Connections" blew my mind when I was eight. Because I was too young to notice how a shallow, facile and simplified, all white, mostly male narrative was being constructed from a far richer and larger history.

Today I'm tackling two of Incunabula's five things: cheese (parchment) and Christianity (the adoption of the codex). My primary source for most of what follows is an online version of "The Birth of the Codex" by Colin Roberts and T C Skeat, supplemented by Wikipedia and lots of blog posts/articles found via google. The online version of Birth of the Codex includes (in green and red text) incomplete edits and updates of the original book

1. "Cheese" (aka, parchment/vellum):
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How much did Christianity's extremely early and wholehearted embrace of codexes have to do with the switch from scrolls to codexes? Not a lot. Christians were a tiny minority in a vast empire until well into the 3rd century. By the time Christianity became a major force in the empire (~300 AD), the switch to codexes was already underway. Clearly the rise of Christianity to the empire's official religion in the 4th century greatly accelerated the transition, but the evidence doesn't point to Christians being the starter of the trend.
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Another thinky post. This one will be short. First, a shout-out to [personal profile] conuly who kindly drew attention to my error in the last post about food insecurity, and also gave me an invaluable new vocabulary term: "Food Collecting Peoples" instead of "Hunter Gatherers" does away with the "hunter" label that brings up sexist and inaccurate ideas about how those people lived.

I made a mistake in the first "extra stuff" note I put in the comments to the last thinky post about the invention of agriculture and whether inequality and war are necessarily linked to "civilization."

It's a very common assumption that food collecting peoples live a more precarious and food insecure existence than farmers - that they are more in danger of starving to death. This has generated not just harmless mistakes like my footnote but scads of bad science based on this assumption, such as the harmful "Thrifty Genotype" hypothesis among dieticians which assumes that gaining weight gain happens because humans are adapted to survive alternating waves of feast and famine, and thus self-starvation through dieting is the only proper way to address obesity (the more I learn about diet and obesity science the more I learn just how wrongheaded and discriminatory the entire discipline is).

In fact, food collecting peoples were *not* more prone to suffer food insecurity than farming peoples. Three separate analyses using the Standard Cross-Cultural Sample (TIL that there is a standardized data set for making cross cultural analyses, which is tailored to eliminate similarities due to cultural borrowing by limiting itself to cultures that are widely separated in space/time) found that this is in fact not the case. Comparing across all cultures in the sample, there's no difference in food insecurity between farmers and food collectors. If you control for climate (because arctic food collectors like the Inuit *are* more food insecure and in danger of starvation), then food collectors are *less* likely to be food insecure than farmers. Farmers are tied to their land and at the mercy of whatever happens to their crops, but food collectors can pick up and move to a different area, or simply switch to a different food source that was not impacted by the drought/flood/whatever (here is the only open access article of the three. It's the most recent and footnotes 19 and 20 link to the other two articles. CW: the article's discussion centres the obesity research angle).

The myth of food collectors' food insecurity is mostly born of prejudice (the assumption that life "in the state of nature" was "nasty brutish and short" dates back at least to the 17th century). Some of it is due to selective noticing of the data: famine and food insecurity was at least sometimes an issue for both food collectors and farmers. And some of it traces back to the artificially created food insecurity of people under colonialism and post-colonialism, which the colonizers always blamed on the victims rather than admitting their role. (having your land arbitrarily chopped into blocks that you're not allowed to go onto is not good for food collectors, even before we add the colonizers actively murdering them). Even today, most google hits for "hunter gatherer food insecurity" are papers and articles about how *former* food collecting cultures are suffering food insecurity now that they have largely ceased their own collecting practices and come to rely on food distribution by the nations in which they live. And, finally, at least in my case, some of the myth is due to wrongfully applying the special case of arctic peoples (the one climate where agriculture is impossible and food collectors do suffer from increased food insecurity) too broadly - I remembered reading about how Nanook (of the 20's documentary Nanook of the North) starved to death a few years after the film was made, which was explained as not unusual among the Inuit, and I took that as confirmation that I could accept the received myth and didn't have to google yet another fact.

So, with that myth debunked, why, exactly, did food collecting people switch to farming over most of the world? Farming is measurably worse by almost every metric: more work for the same or greater food insecurity, with more disease, worse nutrition (from a less varied diet), shorter lifespans, shorter adult stature, etc.

That farming made you more susceptible to disease was not evident to premodern people lacking tools to make statistical analyses, but at least some of the consequences of farmers' ill health *were* visible. An example off the top of my head (from the book 1491 by Charles Mann): early European accounts of First Nations people mentioned how healthy, tall, robust, and handsome Indians were compared to the malnourished, disease ridden Europeans. Most of the Indians in question were farmers themselves, but they had a broader, more nutritionally complete set of crops and, without domesticated animals, they were relatively disease-free. If the bigoted Europeans noticed and commented on the difference between better-nourished, disease free First Nations farmers and themselves, then food collectors must have noticed differences in health between themselves and the farmers whose technology they adopted.

First, in some places, food collectors didn't switch so much as get assimilated by farmers who moved into the area - genetic analysis of human remains from central Europe shows that the switch from food collecting to farming involved a genetic change, with an influx of people showing some degree of Anatolian ancestry moving in with their farming technology and mating with the local food collectors. But in other areas that genetic shift does not occur (the food collectors of the Baltic states, for instance, adopted the agricultural technology but did not interbreed with the people that brought it to them).

Second, depending on how violent that assimilation process was, people like those Baltic food collectors might have adopted farming in self-defence, regardless of the downsides.

Elsewhere, for instance in North America, there's clear evidence of agricultural technology diffusing without attendant migration, so: no assimilation or threat of assimilation. Why switch to a food system that required more work, had visible negative effects on the people who adopted it, and provided no real improvement in food security?

One common answer is that they were forced to by population pressure. (eg, Jared Diamond) This is Malthusian bullshit (another thinky post about Malthus being completely wrong will happen someday). Humans have always had the ability to limit their family sizes. Population only increased when technological change made it possible to reduce the land area per person. Look at the times between those technological shifts, and population remains extremely stable with little to no growth for vast stretches of time. There was no Malthusian pressure on food collectors to increase their food supply. Population increases happened after they changed their technology, not before.

Another answer I've seen mooted is that agriculturalists live settled lives and that enables them to accumulate more belongings and become richer than nomads. This overlooks the vast number of settled food collecting societies, where rich natural food sources meant people could live in one place permanently and own lots of things, without becoming farmers. It also overlooks that nomadic food collectors had a home range with which they were deeply familiar, and a limited number of home camps that they visited at more or less set times, depending on the season and what food sources were due to become collectable where. They could cache belongings at those camps and not have to limit themselves to what they could carry. So they weren't necessarily as poor and bereft of possessions as the popular conception of them would have.

A lot of the links I get when googling for reasons that food collectors switched to farming focus on the *invention* of farming, and provide the suggestion that this was done because settled food collectors in naturally rich areas (like the parts of the fertile crescent where wheat farming was invented) had to either become unsettled or invent new ways to get food when the place they had been living became less rich, whether due to climate change or over-exploitation. Which is not at all in accord with what we know about the actual time lines of plant domestication, extending as they do back to the height of the last glacial period, so that the food collectors were perfecting agriculture while the climate was improving and the richness of their homeland was increasing (see my previous thinky, linked above).

To restate the question: of the food collectors who had the choice to adopt already-invented farming technology (many desert/steppe dwellers and all arctic people did not have that choice, nor did those who adopted it under the threat of assimilation), some did not adopt the new tech, or resisted doing so until colonialism/invasion took away their choice (maybe because they saw evidence of the many downsides of farming). Others accepted the choice, despite those visible downsides: why? I still haven't found a reason proposed that sits well with me. But I do have a crackpot theory of my own.

Maybe, just maybe, it was because while agriculture did not provide any real benefit to settled food collectors, it did give the *appearance* of benefit. It gave the illusion of control: it made the people who did it feel that they were better able to ward off bad times because as a farmer, you were creating your own food, instead of being dependant on the forces of nature to provide food for you. Food collecting meant being at the mercy of countless factors beyond your control or ken. Farming meant being at the mercy of just one: rainfall. It wasn't actually better than food collecting, but it felt better, because *it was less scary*, and that's why it proved so popular.
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Another thinky post. This one has been brewing for a while. Unless otherwise indicated, links are open access/not paywalled. (ETA: see comments for some interesting things/extra thoughts that didn't fit in this monster of a post)

I started googling articles about the origins of cities and agriculture due to my disaffection with the opening parts of Karen Armstrong's "Fields of Blood," where she assumes that military violence and structural inequality are necessary ingredients to creating a civilization, and links "civilization" (ie, inequality and warfare) to the invention of agriculture. That didn't sit well with my memory of Catal Huyuk, one of the earliest known cities, 6,000-ish people living in a town on the south coast of Turkey about 9000 years ago. Catal Huyuk had no city wall or other signs of military defences. It also had no temples or palaces, with minimal signs of social inequality. Just a community of thousands of people living in peace, trading obsidian tools for luxury goods from distant communities.

And then more recently I read an article about Gobekli Tepe, the oldest megalithic site yet found. It's a large worship complex in Turkey near the border with Syria that was built starting 11,500 years ago, by people who did not yet have domesticated plants or animals. And that turns the conventional model of the history of cities on its head.

The traditional model of prehistory, which Armstrong hews to, holds that hunter gatherers had extremely low population densities, with bands of 40-ish people occupying a large home range. In places like the fertile crescent, wild precursors to crops provided them with enough food that they could settle down and begin the process of inventing agriculture. That process is supposed to have begun around the end of the ice age, when human-influenced mass extinction of megafauna made big game hunting no longer a viable survival strategy, and when the climate became warmer, wetter, more stable, and generally congenial to the invention of gardening. Farming started out in small communities, and only over time as the total food surplus increased and trade fostered more specialized crafts did hamlets become villages, towns, and cities. But Gobekli Tepe was a fair sized community of (technically) hunter-gatherers existing before plant or animal domestication.

Which made me go pull Jane Jacobs' Economy of Cities off the shelf. Jacobs's book is a pro-urbanist argument that cities are central and primary to the economy of the surrounding lands, contrary to the tendency of urban planners, architects, economists, and other thinkers from the 19th and early 20th century to regard cities as a bad thing, an aberration of capitalist development that should be done away with when creating planned communities. But Jacobs starts the book by arguing that cities existed before agriculture, that it was urban living that created the necessary conditions for the development of agriculture - on the one hand, providing the necessary gathering of minds needed to spur intellectual ferment and technological progress, and on the other, creating a logistical problem of feeding an ever-growing urban population, to which animal husbandry and agriculture were the solutions.

Archaeologists dismissed that part of her book, and urbanists that praise the rest of it tend to glide in embarrassment over the first section. But now we have Gobekli Tepe. A community of hundreds (judging by how much work was required to build the megalithic temples) of settled, non-nomadic people who didn't have domesticated crops or animals.

Exactly how large the community was isn't yet clear - until very recently no houses had been found, and it was thought that people didn't live there full time, but just came together from the surrounding lands to build shrines, worship, and then dispersed to nomadic hunter-gathering again once a shrine was completed. Which makes little sense, of course, but archaeologists are very good at swallowing camels and straining at gnats when those camels and gnats are inconvenient to their preconceived ideas about what early people did and did not do. A few years ago, in the process of constructing a visitor's centre at the site, including a big permanent tent to shelter the excavated megaliths, they finally dug deeply enough to find houses, and the picture changed from a collection of temples in the wilderness to a more sensible one of a town of people who devoted a lot of resources to building worship spaces.

A town, but not really a town of hunter-gatherers, except technically. They didn't have domesticated animals and the bones of animals found in their kitchen waste show they hunted extensively, but Gobekli Tepe is in the middle of the part of the fertile crescent where agriculture was invented, and it flourished in the immediate pre-agricultural era, when people were perfecting their skills at raising and harvesting edible wild plants.

But first we need to backtrack. The myth of "man the hunter" refuses to die. Early people were not hunter gatherers but gatherer hunters - if they are anything at all like modern non-agricultural peoples, meat from hunting was only 20% of their diet. But because bones don't decay like plants, archaeologists see the evidence of hunting first, and evidence of plant gathering second and only if they use microscopes to examine the dirt adhering to stone tools and containers for tiny fragments of seeds. 19th and early 20th century archaeologists washed their finds, which eliminated the clues needed to verify what plants the people who used those tools had been processing. Archaeological techniques have advanced, and an article from 2010 reports that unwashed grinding stones from diverse sites in Europe showed signs that the owners has used them to process grass seeds and cattail roots, as far back as 30,000 years ago. That's deep in the depths of the last ice age.

We also know that ice age humans were harvesting the wild ancestors of modern domesticated crops. At Ohalo II, a cluster of 23,000 year old huts and hearths on the shore of what is now the Sea of Galilee (back then a single body of water encompassing the Dead Sea, Jordan River, and Sea of Galilee called Lake Lisan), stone sickles were found, as well as remains of wild wheat, barley, and other grains (the site burned, then quickly afterward flooded when the level of the sea rose. Charring followed by anaerobic conditions led to excellent preservation of organic material like plant parts. The site was discovered when a drought temporarily lowered the lake level several meters in the late 80's). Furthermore, a genetic analysis of plant parts found in archaeological sites across the Fertile Crescent indicated that humans had started to select against the genes controlling seed dispersal (genes dealing with the shattering of ripe ears of grain) up to 25,000 years ago for emmer wheat and 32,000 years ago for einkorn wheat.

Which throws the entire "agriculture happened when it did because the ice age was over" meme in the trash heap. Contemporaries of the people hunting mammoths were practising agriculture in the wetter fringes of the harsh desert that filled the middle east during the last glacial maximum. During the LGM, roughly between 31,000 and 16,000 years ago, the entire planet was much colder and much dryer than today (check out the vegetation map, and note that "Extreme desert" means less than 2% plant cover - basically like the dry parts of the Sahara desert today).

But, and a big but: that map is rather coarse grained and doesn't allow for rivers or microclimates. The Nile still existed, at a reduced rate of flow, and the upper Nile backed up behind sand dunes to create lakes in the desert where people lived and fished on the shore. The Tigris and Euphrates also still existed. Lower sea levels meant the Persian Gulf was a dry river valley surrounded by harsh desert. While the homes of the people who lived there are now underwater, the sudden appearance of people (paywalled) to either side of the gulf immediately after the sea level rose suggests that humans made their homes in the bottom of the gulf, then were forced to migrate into the less hospitable surrounding deserts when it became flooded. And in Palestine, the shores of Lake Lisan were fertile enough to support humans despite the entire area being "extreme desert" according to the map.

So, agriculture (in the sense of humans planting and harvesting grains like wheat) got its start not in the fertile Holocene after the ice had melted and the planet warmed up, but during the worst, most brutal parts of the last ice age. Forests were a lot sparser and more limited in extent during the ice age, but I don't doubt that where there were forests, humans were creating forest gardens back then as well.

And at this point we're starting to get far enough back in time to tangle with another mental block archaeologists have, and another extremely racist myth that I was peeved to see Karen Armstrong perpetuating: that "cognitively modern humans" got their start much more recently than anatomically modern humans. Something was lacking, the myth says, in Homo Sapiens before 40-50,000 years ago (Armstrong says 20,000, which is even more ridiculous, since we do have widely accepted and extremely well dated examples of "modern" tools, art, etc from well before then), something mental that suddenly changed, "coincidentally" around the time they started spreading out from Africa. Believers in the myth point to the seeming explosion in the diversity of human tools and artefacts around that time. Sceptics patiently dig up examples of "modern" tools from much older sites, and defend their reality as artefacts, their dating, and their interpretation against vehement attack. Eventually, one hopes, the mental block will be discarded for the racist claptrap that it is, the refusal to see early, mostly African humans as qualified to be counted as "human" in the same way as their descendants who left Africa.

This is related to the mental block archaeologists have against admitting that early humans could produce art, such that any obvious examples of art found that date before a certain time frame get ignored, attacked as not actually made by humans, or attacked as not actually as old as proponents think. Which brings me to another book (last one, I promise!), "Lost Civilizations of the Stone Age" in which Richard Rudgley doesn't address the myth of cognitive modernity directly, but attacks it by attacking the refusal to give legitimacy to artefacts and art that are deemed "too old to actually be art/advanced technology."

So, when did agriculture get its start? It's very hard to say, especially since many of the best sites for gardening during the ice age are now under the ocean. But clearly, it wasn't 12,000 years ago, and it wasn't in response to the extinction of megafauna or the moderating of climate as the glaciers melted.

Even if we restrict ourselves to people who had domesticated plants (the last 12,000 years), at least half of the age of agriculture happened before humans invented inequality, wealth hoarding, and empire building, the violence that Armstrong sees as inseparable from civilization. If we include the long period of gardening plants as they gradually became domesticated (and Gobekli Tepe shows that such gardening was productive enough to support towns of at least a few hundred people engaged in major construction projects), then the age of inequality and brutality that Armstrong equates to civilization has been around for only a quarter of the time in which humans had the ability to build towns and have food surpluses.

Inequality isn't inextricable from civilization, it's just one approach that has violently exterminated all the other approaches it came in contact with throughout history.
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Two books that have been on my mind recently.

I have slowly been working my way through Karen Armstrong's Fields of Blood, which is about the degree to which religions advocate for or support violence. It's basically an in depth "it's more complicated" rebuttal to the Islamophobic claim that Islam is a warlike religion, as well as to the atheist talking point that Christianity has been the cause of innumerable wars through the centuries.

Armstrong starts by noting that civilization, as traditionally defined, is founded in violence - the expropriation of food and labour from the poor by the ruling elite, on the one hand, and the destruction of the poor by the elite's soldiers in wars of conquest, on the other. Armstrong's expertise is the history of the major religions of Eurasia, but I found myself arguing with the book quite a lot in the early chapters where she relied on some out of date archaeology to talk about the origins of agriculture and cities.

Cities and civilization did not have to be founded on violence - we have the peaceful, undefended ruins of Catal Huyuk, an ancient city built without fortifications or other defences against attack, which also seemed not to have a ruling class of haves who stood above the have-nots. Kingdoms and empires, and the wars they engaged in, dominate traditional world history lessons because the warmongers conquered everyone else and got to write the histories. But they're not the only way our ancestors did civilization.

Recently I took a break from Armstrong to re-read another book on religion and war: Barbara Ehrenreich's Blood Rites. Ehrenreich is a journalist rather than a scholar, and as a historian I found things to disagree with all the way through her book, but the core thesis seems pretty solid:

1. War is an ancient activity, but not universal - it seems to be a cultural disease, a meme that infects cultures. Once one group arms itself and attacks its neighbours, those neighbours have to follow suit or be destroyed. And thus the war disease spreads through the world. Always, however, humans seem to talk and think about war in religious terms, especially calling the death of soldiers "sacrifice."

2. Sacrifice, in turn, while not much practised by modern monotheistic religions, was the bedrock of all worship, including monotheistic worship, throughout the ancient world, and (often in a tamed and vegetarian form), still is the bedrock of polytheistic worship everywhere. The gods demand not prayers but fresh blood and meat. They are envisioned to actually be feeding on the meat that is burnt upon their altars. Gods are carnivores.

3. The gods of the ancient world were not humanity's friends, but rather dangerous and cruel beings with violent and destructive inclinations. Gods do not protect humans from natural disasters, they are the cause of those disasters. Worship and sacrifice is all about appeasing them and preventing them from destroying humanity.

4. Humans are prey animals: our distant ancestors often ended up as food for leopards, and even in the era of agriculture and civilizations, big cats continued to hunt and kill farmers and shepherds as well as their livestock, until humans exterminated enough of them that the threat became rare. (Ehrenreich speculates that the architecture of ancient settlements that had holes in the roof accessed by ladders instead of doors - eg, ancestral pueblo cultures in the US Southwest and the inhabitants of Catal Huyuk - was about reducing the threat of predators coming into people's houses at night).

5. Our gods are predators, and the original sacrifice to them, before domesticated animals were a thing, was human sacrifice. Whatever it might have become since then, religion started out as an attempt to prevent disasters (including predation) by appeasing predator-gods with gifts of fresh meat.

6. Naturally the best human sacrifices are people who don't belong to the community making the sacrifice. And thus, war began, in the distant past, as a religious activity, as raiding parties that enabled one group of hunter-gatherers to appease their gods with the blood of members of another group of hunter-gatherers. While everything else about war has changed beyond recognition, the religious language used for it, and quasi-religious way of thinking about it, remain unchanged from its roots as a religious practice, raiding one's neighbours in order to feed one's gods.

Religion has of course since then become a lot of other things: returning to the themes of Armstrong, the core of most of today's major Eurasian religions (Armstrong sadly has never written about precolonial religions of Africa or the Americas, this is her great failing) is a quest to ameliorate human suffering, to fight against the grim truth that life is full of suffering and ends in death.

All through the founding documents of Judaism, Christianity, Islam, Buddhism, etc, are exhortations for people to help the less fortunate, be kind to their fellow humans, and to treat others as they would like to be treated. And those exhortations coexist uneasily with passages that depict the gods who are supposedly asking us to be nice to each other as violent, abusive, capricious beings that would just as soon destroy us if we don't feed them plentifully and regularly with sacrificial meat.

There's a huge gulf between religious institutions, which, in cahoots with the rich and powerful, seek to suppress dissent and keep the common people from disrupting the rapacity of elites; and spiritual movements, which have always been about helping the downtrodden and demanding that the rich share their bounties with those who have nothing.

Ehrenreich's book has a lot about warmongering elites who delight in war. Some of it falls afoul of her lack of expertise in the history she's covering, but I think it's interesting that while sacrificial religion seems to predate agriculture and the creation of "civilizations" which divide people into elites and commoners, the main proponents and perpetuators of war-based worship over the past 12,000 years have been those elites, while the main proponents of being nice to each other have been common people.

The elites of the ancient world delighted in being "hunters" - of literal animals, including big cats who prey upon farmers, and of their fellow humans, through war. Instead of worshipping predators, they became them. Blood sacrifice to capricious gods became monetary sacrifice to overlords who held all the wealth and power in society.
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Another thinky thought post brought on by a video seeking to answer the question why Europeans enslaved Africans specifically.

And while the video didn't contain any misinformation, it felt a bit incomplete because I've recently read David Graeber's "Debt the first 5000 years," and because of a recent post on the Collection of Unmitigated Pedantry Blog which talked about slavery in the process of critiquing a world conquest strategy video game

ExpandRead more... )Lastly, have a table from Debt, showing just how miserably poor Europe was compared to essentially everyone else in Eurasia, even when comparing them to nations from centuries or millennia previous. Crappy climate > low agricultural productivity > low population densities > few and small cities > economic backwater.

Copying just one column of data from a table showing population and tax revenue for several ancient and early medieval nations:

Persia 350 BCE, 41 grams of silver per person per year
Egypt 200 BCE, 55 grams,
Rome 1 CE 17 grams,
Rome 150 CE 21 grams,
Byzantium 850 CE 15 grams,
Abbasids, 850 CE 48 grams,
T'ang, 850 CE 43 grams
France 1221 2.4 grams
England 1203 4.6 grams
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Blog post 1: The Unmitigated Pedantry blog mentioned in passing today that while in medieval Europe, fortifications were built with thin stone walls which were very easy to destroy with the early, crude cannons of the 1400's. In China, on the other hand, fortresses were built with thick earthen walls lined with a thin layer of bricks, which were immune to early cannons.

Both places had access to the same kind of early artillery technology at roughly the same time, but in China, cannons were seen as a novelty of not much use. In Europe, the earliest, crudest cannons were a game changer, enabling the conquest of forts and cities without long sieges, leading to massive shifts in power as those who could afford cannons conquered their smaller, poorer neighbours, until the only nations left standing a few centuries later were countries that could afford the massive expense not just of cannons, but of building lots of all-new cannon-proof fortifications to defend their territories.

And this military transformation within Europe fed into other interacting factors to transform Western Europe from a poor backwater that was decidedly weaker than the vastly larger, more populous and far richer nations of Central and Eastern Asia, into a colossus of conquest that took over the entire world in the 18th and 19th centuries.

The question that the Pedantry blog did not address was why China built their forts so differently than Europe.

Which brings me to another blog post from last year: The Analog Antiquarian has been posting multpart essays about the 7 Wonders of the Ancient World for a while now. Sadly he is not a historian and sometimes uses old and outdated books as his sources, and I have found his novelistic approach sometimes offputting. But one thing I learned from his series a while back: archaeologists have never been able to find the Hanging Gardens of Babylon, of ancient clickbait fame ("You'll never guess what building is number six on our list of the 7 most awesome structures worth seeing in the world!").

The Hanging Gardens of Babylon seem to have never actually existed in Babylon. Although there are scholars who think something like what was described in the ancient lists did in fact exist in Nineveh. Although this just trades one mystery (where is it) for another (why did so many writers of the ancient world mix up two very distinct cities?)

But in the process of explaining the non-discovery of the Hanging Gardens by modern archaeologists, the Analog Antiquarian highlighted something I had already sort-of known: that ancient Babylon left behind very few ruins, because of its location. In the middle of a vast floodplain, quite far from any hills or mountains, with nothing but silt beneath their feet as far as they could dig, ancient Babylonians built everything, from hovels to palaces, out of mud brick. Which over the millennia, has completely eroded away into subtle mounds on the landscape, plus, sometimes, ceramic tiles that once decorated the outer layers of the walls of more elaborate buildings.

For instance, we have today a reconstruction of the Ishtar Gate. The wood of the gate rotted away, and the mud brick of the walls that flanked it eroded to nothing, leaving only the ceramic tiles which adorned it and made it splendid enough to get on the original lists of World Wonders (until a later revision bumped Babylon's walls and gates to make room for the Lighthouse of Alexandria). German archaeologists dug up the tiles of the gate in the 30's, took them home, and reconstructed the gateway: today you can see it in Berlin's Pergamon Museum (Nazi funding meets colonial archaeology, sigh).

Thinky thoughts produced: China, like Babylon, is a civilization centred on floodplains (the Yellow and Yangtze rivers), where stone has to be imported and the easiest and cheapest way to build fortifications is with earth. And naturally when China's rulers expanded beyond the floodplains, they stuck to known and familiar technology, continuing to build fortifications with thick earthen walls even when stone was available. So they never had the kind of thin masonry walls that primitive cannon were useful against.

Whereas the nations of Europe are mostly not centred on vast floodplains where stone is hard to come by. Stone was the first thing they reached for when they needed to build a fireproof fortification, until cannons made such walls obsolete.
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(note: A lot of this is inspired by the Collection of Unmitigated Pedantry blog's series last fall on premodern subsistence farming, and especially their addendum on rice)

Premodern subsistence farmers organized their farms not around maximizing yield, but around doing all they could to ensure their family did not starve. Extended families of 8-ish people would farm just a couple hectares of land. Over time large farms would shrink as siblings each took their share of an inheritance, until they hit the minimum size farm needed to produce enough food for everyone. This is true of all premodern farmers, from China to Europe. Everything was organized around guaranteeing, as much as possible, that no one in the family would starve between one harvest and the next. Each family would would work several small fields scattered around the village where they lived, with each field in a different terrain with a different microclimate. If one area around the village had too much or too little water in a year, or if one hillside was blighted by disease or pests, everyone in the village would be a little worse off but no families would face complete destruction. Reducing the risk of starvation was the main priority, not producing a surplus of food to feed to non-farmers.

Staying alive was a community effort. If one farm was pillaged (legally by the aristocracy or illegally by bandits), suffered a sudden death, or had an unusually bad harvest despite its scattered fields, other families in the village would help out. It's common to talk about this in capitalist terms, but that projects modern economic concepts of money and debt onto a past that was not capitalist but communalist. Money debt and a market economy existed, of course, but it was imposed on the farmers and the village community from above by the wealthy and by the towns and cities that sold vital speciality goods to the farmers nearby.

All of that is universal regardless of what the farmers are growing. But the requirements of rice and wheat farming produced vastly different social systems and vastly different societies. ExpandRead more... )

In the rice belt of Asia, farmers did not have to pay their lords a fee in order to keep their families fed. They were self-sufficient in a way their wheat-raising counterparts were not and could not be. And at the same time their communities engaged in multigenerational projects to create more farmable land, projects that were simply impossible for their wheat-raising counterprarts in Europe. I don't know enough about the history of China and other rice-based nations to say much about the impact this had on the very different histories of the two regions, but it does give food for thought.

One last thing: traditional farming in Europe and America is all but extinct. Essentially no one still grows wheat in order to eat it themselves, and all farmers, even the Amish, are more concerned with producing crops to sell than with feeding themselves. Farming families work far more than two hectares, and they don't worry about divvying up fields into small bits to minimize microclimate failure. In the rice belt, on the other hand, modern farmers still farm in the traditional way. They use fertilizer and high yield breeds of rice which let them produce a large surplus to sell, but the essential system - of small fields created with vast amounts of labour, flooded and farmed with even more labour - remains the same.

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