Two weeks ago I went to a studio in Amherst, MA, to participate in a BBC Forum on Hierarchy. It was broadcasted last week, and you can listen to it here.
I arrived at the studio in plenty of time, but there were inevitable SNAFUs. First, I couldn’t get into the building (not sure why they lock it during the business hours), and for a while nobody was responding to my frantic hammering at the door. Then, I had to drive to a distant parking lot (they did not have a parking space for me near the building) and run back, so I started the program out of breath.
Still, I thought the program went quite well. The format of the show doesn’t force you into reducing the complexity of your ideas to sound bites; instead giving you time to develop your argument in a logical way. The other two panelists were really interesting and articulate people (read about them on the BBC site). It was a pleasure to listen to their perspectives.
In today’s blog I’d like to revisit the main idea I was trying to get across. Nothing can substitute the written word for clarity and conciseness.
For over 90 percent of our evolutionary history humans lived in small-scale groups. Agreeing on a common course of action to achieve collective goals was relatively easy. It is quite possible to come to a consensus in a small group of ten or fewer people simply by having a common discussion, listening to everybody’s concerns, and not allowing anybody to dominate the decision-making process. If such a group finds it impossible to achieve a consensus, it disbands and reforms in a different configuration, or sheds uncooperative individuals.
It is much harder, but still possible to concert a common policy in groups consisting of many tens of individuals; very difficult in groups of hundreds; and simply impossible once you get into thousands. That’s probably one of the fundamental principles of social dynamics (which the Occupiers did not seem to understand).
The only way that large human groups can arrive at a common course of action is by structuring interpersonal connections. Imagine a large human group as a network in which any particular node (a person) has a thick connection to just a few other people, between 4 and 10 of such connections. This is a small enough number so that each person in a pair can know the other quite well, and they can rapidly coordinate their objectives and actions.
So the coordinator at the center of the network speaks to and gets feedback from ten other people. Those ten speak to ten more people each, and so on. It is possible to connect a group of any size using this scheme, by adding extra levels of communication and decision making. For example, a society with one million members would need six levels. We need only 10 levels to connect everybody on Earth!
This is a hierarchical organization in its neutral, informational (or, as my father would say, cybernetic) sense, which should not be confused with ‘hierarchy’ in its negative sense, that is, unequal distribution of power. Biologists are quite used to speaking of hierarchies in the neutral sense (for example, we speak of life being organized in a hierarchical way, from molecules to organelles, to cells, to tissues and organs, to individuals, and to populations or societies).
The problem, of course, is that as soon as you put someone in a central position of a decision-making network, you give them a lot of structural power, and they can, and often will, attempt to convert it into more malignant forms of power: ability to order others around, and acquisition of a disproportionate amount of resources. If there are no effective checks on leaders, then hierarchy breeds inequality. Sociologists even have a name for this, the Iron Law of Oligarchy.
So what happened to humans during the Holocene (which started roughly 12,000 years ago with the end of the Ice Age) is that they spread all over the Earth, and their numbers increased to the point where human societies came into frequent contact and conflict with each other. Warfare became more intense and exerted a very powerful selection on human societies. Societies that were larger and better organized outcompeted smaller and more shambolic ones. Hierarchical organization was one of the cultural traits that was heavily favored by the new selection regime in the Holocene.
Politically centralized societies (chiefdoms) appeared and spread, and then evolved into larger scale societies, complex chiefdoms and archaic states. These societies were extremely unequal. Large segments of populations were enslaved, or became the fodder for bloody rituals, in which multitudes were sacrificed on tops of pyramids. The rulers set themselves up as gods on Earth.
Such extreme forms of inequality alienated the 99 percent of the population, and corroded society-wide cooperation. Ironically, inequality reduced the ability of the despotic archaic states to compete with other societies (which is why they were extremely fragile, and often did not survive their founders). Now cultural evolution began working ceaselessly to make societies less despotic and less unequal. Not because evolution cares about our wishes (and, particularly, that the majority of the population prefers more equitable outcomes), but because more equal, just social arrangements win in competition with the grossly unequal, tyrannical ones.
We’ve come a long way since the days of the early despotisms, but we have an equally long way to go to construct truly just societies. What lessons do Sociology and Cultural Evolution have for us?
First, it’s a pipe dream to imagine that a large-scale society (e.g., a million people or more – a small nation by today’s standards!) can be organized in a non-hierarchical, horizontal way. Hierarchy (in its neutral sense) is the only way to organize large-scale societies. In itself, it’s not a bad thing.
Abuse of power and gross inequality are unquestionably a bad thing. Evolution has been working to eliminate the worst excesses, but we need to help it along. ‘Evolution’ sounds like such a faceless, impersonal force. But it actually is a result of a multitude of actions of real people, from common folks to rulers. Our societies today are much less despotic than the early ones, thanks to such people as the Israelite prophet Amos, who denounced powers that be, and the Chinese sage Confucius, who championed justice, sincerity, and morality.
So what we need is not less hierarchy, but more control over our leaders to ensure that they govern for the collective good, rather than for selfish needs of themselves and their cronies. How we achieve this end is a big question, to which I don’t have a ready answer – and certainly not something that I’d want to deal in this post.