Anybody who has been following my blog here has probably noticed that I have a longstanding problem with respecting "science".
As a child of the 60's in America the act of replacing the cultural norms of Christianity with the corrupting influence of modern liberal scientific theory dominated every aspect of society and with the advent of marijuana and psychedelics, that battle was won by the liberals. Christianity had to basically reboot itself after the 60's.
In time, all this cultural pressure has faded to the extent that I and many like myself wonder where all these questionable ideas about alternative cultural norms came from and in particular how narcissism became so unquestioningly and covertly central to American culture.
One of the sources was a book published in 1928 written by a young anthropologist named Margaret Mead.
One of the book's reviewers - read the comments by those giving the book a rating of one - on Amazon had this to say about this book which has been highly praised and deeply respected by "science":
In the unpaginated `Preface [to the] 1973 Edition', Margaret Mead stresses that her description of Samoan moeurs should be read as applying to conditions at the time of her research. She finds it needful to `shout' that advice because during her 1971 brief visit to Samoa, `young critics even asked me when am I going to revise this book and look unbelieving and angry when I say that to revise it is impossible'.
This is a reference to an abrasive session with students who told her that her description of fa'aSamoa (Samoan custom) was false and insulting. They were miffed by her styling Samoans `primitives' and her pronouncement that since anthropologists enjoy an `immense superiority', they can `master the fundamental structure' [of primitive society] . . . `in a few months' (p. 8). In keeping with this arrogance, Samoans attending university were told by their instructors that their experience of fa'aSamoa was not valid evidence against Mead's scientific study. And, as we've just seen, Mead refused to revise her book even when she knew that it is mistaken in many particulars.
For Samoans this patronizing manner was the familiar voice of the papalagi (the colonial power). Mead's hosts on her field trip, aware that she enjoyed the protection of the Pacific Fleet admiral and Boss of American Samoa, went to great lengths to provide reliable information. When they learned of what they call her luma fai tele (`shameless defamaton'), they could not comprehend how she could have betrayed their hospitality. They were also aggrieved that she deceived them about her marital status. For she accepted the title taupou (ceremonial virgin) although as a married woman she was ineligible. Then she disgraced the title by carrying on with Aviata, a young man regarded as a rake.
While Samoans long knew the mendacity of this book, its correction in academic circles commenced only with the 1983 publication of Derek Freeman's Margaret Mead and Samoa: The Making and Unmaking of an Anthropological Myth (Harvard University Press). That event shook anthropology to its boots. Such was Mead's prestige that the popular mind identified her with anthropology. If her credibility was seriously questioned in respect to the most widely believed anthropological study ever published, the credibility of the profession was at risk. That is why Freeman was attacked with great ferocity, even by those who agreed with his critique.
Freeman's book initiated a reappraisal of Coming of Age in Samoa. Martin Orans and Freeman have recently published studies of her Samoa investigations based on her field notes. They confirm that Mead's account of Samoan sexual moeurs is a travesty. But they go beyond that. Mead recorded the accounts given by her informants, but by ignoring key facts, twisting others, and inventing still others, she contrived to represent Samoa as a free love duck pond. She also misrepresented the research she carried out. She was funded to conduct a study of adolescent girls; and she states that she spent `six months accumulating an intimate and detailed knowledge of all adolescent girls in the community'. Her field notes tell otherwise. She devoted her time to assembling ethnography; the funded study never got off the ground. She states that she conducted `all' her interviews with these girls in the Samoan language (`I spoke their language and ate their food'). Orans found however that her information on adolescent girls came from `English-speaking informants using English to communicate'. He notes that `no conversations in Samoan are recorded in any of the field materials'. This is consistent with Freeman's finding that the study of adolescent girls was not conducted at all.
Mead built her picture of free love by tossing off unsupported one-liners. The `inept lover is a laughing stock'. There are `no neurotic pictures, no frigidity' in Samoa. Masturbation `is a universal habit'. Homosexual activity is `very prevalent' and is regarded as `simply play'. `[Samoan] girls' minds were perplexed by no conflicts . . . [to have as] many lovers as possible and then to marry . . . these were uniform and satisfying ambitions'. The field materials do not show that Mead collected any evidence whatever about masturbation, homosexuality, or incidence of neuroticism and frigidity. She had but one informant about intimate sexual moeurs--an eighteen year old school teacher. In 1981 that person told Freeman that he had an affair with Margaret. Thus Samoa's alleged free love amounts to no more than a loose wife's gullibility to the pillow talk of her teenage lover. Such is the `science' that made this book famous.
Research on Mead's field notes clarifies a feature of this book that has puzzled many readers. It is the drastic and repeated inconsistency between Mead's descriptions of Samoan vigilance of virginity and punishments of straying girls, and the attribution of a casual attitude toward sexuality. What we now can see is that Mead patched her free love pillow talk into descriptions given to her by her adult informants.
How is that anthropologists for so long were taken in by a popular book? One part of the answer is that many weren't taken in. The controversy brought to light numerous statements to this effect. Thus Weston LaBarre wrote: "When I was a graduate student in anthropology at Yale in the late '30's, Mead's Sex and Temperament came out. Puzzled that even a big island like New Guinea should have had three tribes waiting to be discovered to prove her point about the non-biological nature of gender, I went to Edward Sapir with my puzzlement. He said laconically, `She's a pathological liar'. I was startled as much by what he said, as by the fact that an eminent anthropologist and chairman of a department should say this to a mere graduate student. But over the years, I have come to believe that this is literally the case." The next round in the evaluation of Mead's anthropology, we may hope, will collect and critically assess this largely unpublished expert opinion.
Hiram Caton
Editor, The Samoa Reader: Anthropologists Take Stock.
