Ultrasociety: How 10,000 Years of War Made Humans the Greatest Cooperators on Earth, by Peter Turchin

In Ultrasociety: How 10,000 Years of War Made Humans the Greatest Cooperators on Earth,  Peter Turchin has another book that translates his sophisticated models of historical dynamics into a prose exposition that non-specialists can enjoy. As in his previous work,  War and Peace and War, he has succeeded in his task by mixing accounts of historical (and pre-historical) incidents and epochs with lessons about the science of evolution. Having admired his accomplishment in War and Peace and War, I held high expectations for this book. He has met and exceeded those expectations by addressing a set of topics of even greater and wider import than those of his first (popular) book. He does this by following the course of most academics whom I admire: they transgress departmental boundaries to explore new connections and arrive at new insights. In his case, he moved from an academic specialization in population dynamics to helping found the new science of Cliodynamics, the study of history using large data sets to create mathematical models of historical dynamics. Although already a fan (and thanks to the internet for allowing groupies like me to follow along with new thoughts and trends between books), I almost shouted “Amen!” aloud when I read:

The situation [of competing theories] is made worse by the division of social science into “tribes” of anthropologists, sociologists, political scientists, and economists. Each discipline tends to emphasize its own set of theories while disagreeing with others (and even among its own adherents). Social scientists are the blind men touching different parts of an elephant and drawing different conclusions about it. -- Peter Turchin, Ultrasociety: How 10,000 Years of War Made Humans the Greatest Cooperators on Earth, Location 567.

The thesis of Ultrasociety is simple: over the course of human evolution, we humans have become the most cooperative species on the planet, outpacing our nearest rivals,  the more numerous and highly cooperative ants. As Turchin points out, several factors account for this distinction, including two factors that take humans beyond the biological. First, in addition to biological evolution, which is slow and random, humans developed culture, the transmission of information via representation. The transmission of information by culture from generation to generation allows changes in human behavior to occur much more rapidly than any change in the human genome would allow. As a practical matter, the lives of humans, especially in the last 10,000 years (since the advent of agriculture) have changed by orders of magnitude far beyond anything that biological evolution by itself could have allowed.  

Mild-mannered look belies intriguing thoughts: Peter Turchin

Turchin identifies a second crucial spur to changes in human ways of life, and it may come as a shock to readers. It’s war. Especially in the last 10,000 years, war is—for all its horrors—the most potent source of cultural evolution. War compels change and change occurs through cooperation within groups. As humans developed societies beyond those of hunter-gatherers, as they developed civilization (a society based on cities), war became more organized and pronounced, and increasing competition for survival ensued. The seeming paradox is at the heart of Turchin’s analysis.

By the way, Turchin notes that the idea of the "noble savage" leading a bucolic, pastoral life is a fantasy; in fact, hunter-gatherers have shockingly high rates of violent death from warfare and other forms of homicide. Note that Turchin is not a war-monger. He concedes the horror of war and that it entails destruction—often vast destruction. He is not, as some--especially during the period before the First World War--who think war a fine tonic for whatever ails society. Not at all. However, he recognizes war as a competitive environment that spurs intra-group cooperation.

Competition between groups and cooperation within groups, whether hunter-gatherer tribes or highly developed and coordinated nation-states are traits that evolutionary theory explain. The controversial (but increasingly accepted) theory of cultural multilevel selection is a key concept for understanding the dynamics involved in these competitions that require so much cooperation. To explain this, Turchin provides a brief history of evolutionary biology and the controversy about whether groups can evolve and undergo a process of natural selection. As recently as the 1970s, with the publication of Richard Dawkins's book,  The Selfish Gene (and more recently in some of Steven Pinker’s work), mainstream biology believed that evolution occurred only on the level of individual genomes and not among groups. Turchin points out that there was an early, naïve theory of group selection that did not hold up to scrutiny. However, in work conducted by by David Sloan Wilson and colleagues, the theory of multilevel selection became more sophisticated. This theory now provides a persuasive—albeit not universally accepted—theory of how groups compete and evolve.

Part of what makes Turchin's work fascinating is that he translates the highly theoretical and mathematically modeled work of evolutionary biology (his native field) into commonplace examples taken from anthropology and history. For instance, he draws upon his academic home at the University of Connecticut, which has a phenomenally successful women's college basketball program (and a successful men's program as well) to frame the problem of cooperation and competition within a group. He uses examples of sports teams as a microcosm of the problem of cooperation and competition. As a member of numerous sports teams and now as a boys varsity basketball coach, this issue has long intrigued me. How does one promote competition within the team to draw out the best individual performances and determine playing time, while requiring those same individuals to coalesce and cooperate unselfishly at the highest level to defeat an opponent? To the extent the team succeeds in cooperating against an opponent, the team will likely win. Maximum success depends on individuals putting aside their selfish interests (glory, pay) for the benefit of the team. Moreover, what applies to something as inconsequential as sports (at least at bill level of high school sports), applies to the level of intergroup competition in something as deadly serious as war. (Of course, this leads one to speculate on the relationship between war and sports, but that's a subject for another time). Turchin explains the dynamics involved and provides some revealing information about how relationships and status among members of a team affect team performance. Studies have shown that wide disparities in pay between professional players correlates with poorer team performance. Those teams with the greatest equality of pay tend to be the most successful. Although Turchin does not mention this directly, one has to wonder how this applies to society as a whole. With an increasing awareness of a growing inequality in American society since the 1970s, one can't help but notice the increasing social and political polarization that occurred during the same period. We have become an increasingly less cooperative polity and society as inequality has grown. Turchin also notes the triumph of individualist philosophies espoused by Ayn Rand, Friedrich Hayek (which is a selective reading of his total work by some proponents), and others who emphasize a highly individualistic and laisse-fair ideology. Turchin quotes the "greed is good" speech by the fictional character Gordon Gecko in the movie Wall Street as an exemplar of the ascendant selfish ideology that began running amok in the 1980s. Turchin makes clear that an undue emphasis on individual accomplishment and selfishness hurts the society as a whole.

Turchin can claim to be the founding father of Cliodynamics, a discipline that works to discern patterns in history and prehistory based on the quantification of data through mathematical modeling. Attempts of this sort in the past have been failures. Through the lens of the philosopher R. G. Collingwood (of whom I've been reading a great deal lately), this endeavor doesn’t qualify as history properly understood. For Collingwood, History is the history of thought and not the history of behavior. But Turchin's work and the work of others in Cliodynamics demonstrates the weakness of Collingwood's position. When Collingwood emphasizes history as the history of thought, including the thoughts behind human actions and choices, he limits history to examining the tip of the iceberg. Just as humans are the result of eons of evolution layered one upon another to arrive at our current state, with most of the functions of our bodies running involuntarily and without our conscious knowledge or decision, so with many of the actions of society. Many actions seen together, aggregated over large groups, display behaviors that are not the result of a conscious decision. Often they are the aggregate of individual decisions that reveal a larger pattern. We deal with this every day when considering market "decisions." (But note our personification of markets often leads to poor analysis. The “market” is not a conscious individual; it’s an abstraction of many individual actions aggregated for the convenience of analysis). Turchin analyzes data from the past to better understand the past. (Note: the only source of knowledge is the past!) To me, Cliodynamics is a welcome addition to the field of history. Although I retain my prejudice for history as the history of thought, with an emphasis on political and intellectual decisions, we simply cannot ignore the fact that human beings are both a part of Nature and apart from Nature. To understand the totality of the human past—the highest intellectual endeavor—we need to take advantage of all the tools available. Looking at history through different lenses provided by of social and natural sciences is a resource that we are foolish to ignore. 

Indeed, in this book, Turchin suggests that perhaps we humans can move another step forward on our evolutionary journey and make war obsolete. The massive improvements in warfare and killing efficiency epitomized by atomic weapons make this more than a utopian dream. It's a practical necessity. The next logical—even necessary—step in cultural evolution must be increased cooperation, or we run the risk of regression to a less cooperative, must more barbaric (in the worst sense of the term) reality. Turchin uses the international space station as an example of the level of cooperation that nations are capable of attaining. He suggests that perhaps economic competition can replace war as a means of spurring cultural innovation without suffering the horrors of war. Paul Krugman, another social scientist inspired by Isaac Asimov’s vision of “psychohistory” outlined in his Foundation books, suggests we need an attack of aliens to foster an economic growth and cooperation, which is much in keeping with Turchin’s direction of thought. I believe that with the imminence of global climate change, we—as a species working through nation-states—will either ratchet-up our levels of peaceful cooperation to combat (by abatement and adaptation) what will become an increasingly alien environment—or we will suffer an increasingly deadly level of social and political conflict.

One mark of a successful book is that it leaves you wanting more. You hear yourself saying, “telling me more about this and that.” So it is with this book. The number of issues that it raises, the number of possible areas of explorations it suggests, are too numerous to list completely. But to name just one area of where I’d like to know more:  Turchin describes the idea of “cultural evolution” as a scientific theory “based on mathematical models [that] are empirically testable.” Id., Location 330. Moreover, there is a tradition within sociology of social evolution and development theory, as well as theories of history (addressed by Turchin in War and Peace and War). However, I’m wondering about connections with theories of cultural evolution (or change) based on language and other symbolic systems, such as the work of Owen Barfield, Walter Ong, Jean Gebser, William Irwin Thompson and Ralph Abraham, and Clare Graves and Don Beck (an eclectic list, I admit). None of these thinkers, I believe, would necessarily disagree with the biologically based theory of cultural evolution espoused by Turchin, but it would be interesting to determine where they mesh and where they conflict.


So, I’ll stop here. With an outstanding book, the temptation is to go on and on about it. I’ll not. Go read it yourself. 

Dilbert on Donald: I'm Not Persuaded

Comment withheld

Along with many, the Donald Trump phenomenon fascinates me. He comes across as a bombastic, narcissistic demagogue, mostly (but not entirely) full of hot air and baloney. On the other hand, he was until recently the favorite of most Republican voters. Many political commentators have attempted to deconstruct the Trump phenomenon. Is his popularity the result of his personal characteristics? Or is it the result of a miasma in the political air that has infected Republican voters? (I’m happy to note the Democrats and sane people seem immune to the Trump airs.) However, one assessment of Trump that has caught my attention comes from Scott Adams, creator of the Dilbert comic strip.

Dilbert creator & hypnotist Scott Adams

Scott Adams wrote How to Fail at Everything and Still Win Big: Kind of My Life Story, a book that I enjoyed. (My review here.) In that book, Adams writes about many topics, but his distinction between goals and systems is worth the price of the book. But the book has much more than that. Adams is an open-minded and inquiring fellow, and he’s willing to try ideas and techniques to figure out what works and what doesn’t. Among the many practices he’s tried is hypnosis, and he finds it effective. I’ve been doing some reading on my own about hypnosis as a part of my interest in all types of persuasion, influence, and power. And while I don’t have any training in hypnosis, Adams does, and he writes about it in his book and in his blog. He defines hypnosis broadly, and like me, he’s interested more widely in persuasion. As a part of this interest, he’s been writing about Donald Trump. Adams describes Trump as one of the “Master Wizards” of persuasion (His Master Wizard—or Master Persuader—Hypothesis is an offshoot of his Moist Robot Hypothesis. Read his book or go to his blog for details.) In his ongoing commentary on Trump and the Trump presidential campaign, Adams entertains the possibility of a Trump landslide in the coming presidential election. By the way, Adams doesn’t claim that Trump would necessarily be a good president, just that he’s in a good position to win because he’s exhibiting the ways of a Master Wizard. I think that Adams is onto something, but I find Adams’s hypothesis has severe limitations.

In reading about hypnosis via The Rogue Hypnotist and Kreskin, as well having done some background reading on Milton Erickson, I believe that there are situations where conversational hypnosis can work. Also, there’s the whole topic of advertising and propaganda as a form of mass persuasion, which relates to hypnosis. Kreskin, for instance, claims there is no hypnosis in the sense of a pure trance, only suggestibility, and from what I’m learning, that’s probably an accurate characterization of what goes on. Kreskin reveals that in his shows, when he “hypnotizes” someone on stage, he makes a point of choosing a volunteer who is readily open to suggestion (which he’s learned to identify quickly). Some people are more much open and suggestible than others.

I believe that I’m on the less suggestible side of the scale. I’m WEIRD (Western, educated, industrialized, rich, and democratic) (courtesy of Jonathan Haidt), and I’m also a lawyer with over 30 years of experience in negotiations, hearings, trials, and appeals. In other words, I have a professionally trained crap detector. This is not to say up never been bamboozled (I have), but at least in the arena of a courtroom I know how to ask probing questions and deploy appropriate skepticism. This attitude carries over, at least to some extent, in other aspects of my life.

For instance, this skeptical-inquiring mindset, which is so handy in cross-examination, kicks on when watching a Republican presidential debate. The amount of free-flowing crap is immense. I'm not suggesting that the Democrats don’t dispense it, just that it's not the same magnitude of volume. Some people may accuse me of being close-mindedness, but I believe that reality has a well-established liberal bias. (Please take the statement with a large grain of salt as I stated it with tongue-in-cheek. Oh! How I love a good cliché!) Of course, someone will say that this is merely my liberal bias shining through, but I started my life as a Republican and only left that fold slowly and without rancor towards family, friends, and acquaintances that remained within the fold. (I learned in the most recent debate that I’m over three decades ahead of Ben Bernanke.) I’ve changed other beliefs and practices as well, and these changes didn’t occur as a matter of whim or some spooky, undue influence. In other words, careful thought and reason play a role in my life and can play a role in the lives of others. It can play a role in politics.

So the question becomes, “How much baloney can a candidate dispense and still garner a majority of the votes?” This a vital question because it goes to the viability of democracy itself. Some have defended democracy as good enough if people are smart enough to vote for their own interests. (I think Richard Posner makes this argument in Law, Pragmatism, and Democracy.) Of course, self-interest or organized group interests do carry significant (often inordinate) weight in political decision-making, but even granting that weight, many decisions aren’t compelled or even influenced by financial self-interest (narrowly defined). Most issues about cultural and ethics discussed in the political realm, such as gay marriage, abortion, and marijuana legalization, aren’t issues that affect the pocketbooks of most voters. Yet, many hold strong views on these topics. If those views are not informed by reason and inquiry, and not shaped by self-interest (narrowly understood), then how are they shaped? Visions informed by habit, fear, or hope quickly fill any void. In the arena of values (culture war) politics, we see and hear political pitches aimed at fundamental beliefs, fears, and hopes. (Alas, fears trump—pun intended—hopes as primary motivators.) In this arena, the candidate with the best skills for suggesting—without arguing—for a position will probably come out ahead. But can the candidate who fools a lot of the people a lot of the time win over enough of the voters?

Scott Adams suggests that Donald Trump is bluffing about immigration to establish an opening negotiating stance, or that Trump’s actions are the opening act in a three-act play will bring about a happy ending for both the protagonist (Trump) and illegal immigrants. Tragedy will turn to Romance. Maybe. Adams may argue (and I haven’t seen this yet), that candidates throughout American history have campaigned saying one thing and then doing quite another. Sometimes this is a matter of duplicity, sometimes the result of a change in circumstances, and sometimes the result of a genuine change of beliefs. However, it must remain a fundamental tenet of electoral democracy that we believe that a candidate will act consistently with what the candidate says during the campaign. When this doesn’t happen, such as Nixon’s pledge to “Bring Us Together”, it causes a profound rend in the body politic. Thus, the most fundamental question becomes one of the degree of trust we can place in a candidate to do what the candidate says he will do. Alternatively, as some voters tacitly suggest, should we grant a candidate carte blanche upon entering office? Most voters do this by not paying any attention to candidates. They base their choice on the flimsiest of reasons, such as whether the voter would like to sit down and share a beer with the candidate (typically men) or whether the candidate would “keep us safe”.

Trump reminds me of the former Italian leader, Silvio Berlusconi and the current Russian president Vladimir Putin. Both of them were elected leaders, with Berlusconi often playing the clown and accomplishing very little. Putin is quite severe, actively increasing the power of the state and pushing a nationalist agenda. Other elected leaders who provide a negative role model are Hitler and Mussolini, both of whom came to power through electoral process (they both immediately threw overboard after having gained power). Note! I’m not saying the Trump is a Hitler and a Mussolini. I’m only citing them as examples of the efficacy of some types of political rhetoric and persuasion. Hitler was able to persuade a many in the German nation to follow him. Of course, he killed or imprisoned those whom he could not persuade. Persuasion that draws upon nationalistic rhetoric, triumphalism, and fear, can—in certain circumstances—prove extremely persuasive. No matter how persuasive Trump may be to some, to support him for his persuasive abilities (if they do hold up enough to get him even nominated), is not an indicator of this fitness for office. (And, again, Adams has not endorsed Trump.)

A general reservation that I hold about Scott Adams’s Master Wizard Hypothesis is that it doesn’t address democratic eloquence. For instance, the current incumbent two-term president, Barack Obama, is often quite eloquent in formal speeches, and quite measured in his interviews. In rhetorical style, he’s the anti-Trump. And so for that matter is Dr. Ben Carson, Trump’s current chief rival for the Republican nomination. Despite significant obstacles, American voters have twice elected Obama as president of the United States. (And remember wooden Al Gore outpolled the affable George W. Bush.) If we look throughout American history, the greatest and most effective presidents, Lincoln, Washington, Franklin Roosevelt, Theodore Roosevelt, Thomas Jefferson, are all displayed a high level of verbal intelligence and eloquence. In the modern era, Theodore and Franklin Roosevelt could speak movingly to large crowds, but their off-the-cuff bombast – well, I can’t think of any examples of that. The era of presidential debates started in 1960 with Nixon and Kennedy. Neither of those two candidates displayed the verbal sparring and insult that we hear now between the Republican candidates. In fact, both were courteous and respectful toward the other. While not always the case, the verbally eloquent and articulate presidential candidate defeats the opponent with a greater amount of bombast, even those who may have used some of the techniques of hypnotic suggestion that Adams find so empowering in Trump. From what I can discern from my study, hypnosis works in a significant way when the receiver wants to be open to suggestion. We may thus conclude that many Republican voters want to receive the suggestions the Trump (and the other Republican candidates) want to purvey.

All this may prove moot, as some national polls, as well as most recent Iowa poll showed the Ben Carson is now ahead of the entire field. Mild-mannered Dr. Ben Carson, another anti-Trump. Or is he just more subtle in his choice of language and staging? It appears that people are attracted to Carson precisely because of his mild, understated manner. How does this work with the Adams’s Master Wizard Hypothesis about Trump?

In one blog, Adams notes that someone measured Trump as speaking at a fourth-grade level. Adams thinks that’s a part of Trump’s communication wizardry. Any effective speaker must know the audience and match the appropriate linguistic register to that audience, but how low should you go? For instance, listen to Obama talking to and about “folks” when he’s in a small group or informal setting and compare that to the more literary register of his formal speeches. Or think of Lincoln telling humorous tales and bawdy jokes to his friends sitting around a cracker-barrel and then penning the immortal words of the Gettysburg Address and his Second Inaugural Address. Did Churchill bring the English language to war by using vague phrasing at a fourth-grade level to rally the British people in their darkest hour? And that later became their finest hour in part because of his eloquence. All of these speakers used powerful images and sophisticated language that resonated with widely held beliefs shared by their audiences. So does Trump do this so well? Has the American electorate been dumbed-down? I’m not persuaded yet.

Based on my years of study and practice of persuasion, I don’t believe that there is a Holy Grail of persuasion. There are many little things that you can do to increase your odds of success, but nothing guarantees success. We are subject to the whims and caprices of that most implacable of gods, the Audience. Even the Master Wizard Gerry Spence, who’s Win Your Case: How to Present, Persuade, and Prevail--Every Place, Every Time, that Adams has read (if it follows Spence’s earlier How to Argue and Win Every Time I’ve read) says you can’t win every time—at least not in the sense of getting everything you hoped for through persuasion. (Spence’s titles go in for hyperbole, but he is very persuasive and credible.) You have to choose your battles as best you can. I believe that Trump’s success to date is more a function of the hopes and fears of his audience. Or more accurately, their hopes that he can deliver them from their fears. I believe that this Washington Post article, assessing Trump’s appeal as a function of his audience provides greater explanatory power about Trump’s success to date than does Adams’s Master Wizard Hypothesis.