Robert L. Canfield
In:Tom Headland, MaryRuth Wise and Ruth Brend (eds),
Language and Life: Essays in Memory of Kenneth L. Pike.
Dallas: SIL International.
A problem: The relation of culture to human motivation
Human
action is by definition motivated -- but how are the forms of culture engaged
in human motivated action? *1 Whatever our
view of human motivation we cannot talk about it without referring to the
symbolic forms that enable human experience and action, for humans exist
by dependence on symbols. As Richard Wilks
says, “issues of motive [lurk] beneath every modern social science theory
of practice and decision making” (Wilks 1993:191). Consider
the debate between Obeyesekere (1992) and Sahlins (1995 and earlier works)
over how to interpret the Hawaiians’ response to Captain Cook. Obeyesekere
takes the Hawaiians to be pragmatic, calculating, and rational; Sahlins
takes them to be informed by a “total cultural system of human action.” The
debate is essentially over how to describe the relation of motivated action
to culture. Obeyesekere accuses Sahlins of
reifying culture and so making the Hawaiians into mere irrational primitives,
“overdetermined by signs.” Sahlins accuses
Obeyesekere of imputing to the Hawaiians the utilitarian rationality of
modern bourgeois society. So they make contrary
assumptions about how the forms of culture work in actual practice: from
one point of view culture serves as a "tool" of reflective, calculating
actors (Obeyesekere); from another it is an authoritative source of understanding,
an orientation to an axiomatic “reality” (Sahlins). It
is a familiar clash exemplified in many debates in the past (Andrew Lang
versus Max Müller, Malinowski versus Radcliffe-Brown, Harris versus
Sahlins, and so on).
This
is an essay about the relation of human motivations to culture. It
aims essentially to articulate certain assumptions already implicit in
anthropological practice but not generally recognized, specifically to
formulate the nature of motivated behavior, especially sacrificial behavior. I
begin with a brief reference to the problem of the assiduous religious
practice of the peoples of
The problem
of assiduous religious practice in Afghanistan
I
was led into the question of how to describe motives for human action by
the evident religiosity of the
My solution: three answers that taken together
seem to provide a necessary and sufficient explanation
How
can we explain the predominant assiduity of religious practice among the
Muslims in
Thus,
briefly, the political and social conditions inside the country and in
the wider international scene generally fostered a sense of religious identity;
religious practice was a kind of public statement. Since
the overwhelming demands of the social and political situation supported
Islam as the public idiom of virtue, [TNH1]the
residents of the country had good social and political inducements for
observing Islamic rituals to express their communal loyalty.
Answer
2. Islamic rituals of many sorts are a resource
for coping with life.
Among
the Afghan [TNH2]people
I knew, who generally had little access to biomedical resources, definitions
of disease and misfortune were informed by a tradition associated with
Islam.For most people, especially the rural populations
but also many educated urbanites who otherwise had secular inclinations,
the conceptions of what caused disease and misfortune were informed by
a "folk" understanding of Islam, so that certain rituals were considered
means of efficacy. Attendance to shrines,
wearing of amulets, the recitation of prayers and incantations were
presumed helpful in curing, divining, and maintaining well-being.
Thus,
another reason for the assiduous religious practice of many Afghan Muslims
was their belief that it was profitable or beneficial for their personal
and social welfare.
Answer
3. Islamic practice expresses and shows deference
to virtual truths.
Now,
while many of the people I knew would accept that these two considerations
were reasons for religious practice, none of them would have offered them
as reasons for their own religious observance. If
I asked them why they prayed or kept the fast during [TNH3]Ramadan
or sacrificed a sheepon the
Id-i Qurban festival, or why they chose to pay a costly visit to a shrine
to fulfill a vow (as some of our American-educated friends did), they would
tell me that their acts of worship were only what was right to do before
God. Their behavior was an acknowledgement
of a moral universe to which good people should submit. Indeed,
an honorable person was, in common speech, a "musulmân âdam." Such
a person seeks to relate to spiritual things for what they are; and God's
requirements, whatever they are, enjoin compliance.
Certainly
the pietistic tradition of Afghanistan Islam [TNH4]takes
this view. Its literature is replete with
stories about the heroes of religion whose devotion reveals a commitment
to God's will. In
Qasas-ul-Anbiya,
"Stories of the Prophets," 2* there is a story about Job (according to
Islam he was tormented by worms) who, when a worm fell from his body, picked
it up and returned it to its place, lest in any way he should seem not
to accept God's will. He would never, so
the story goes, act for his personal comfort. In
the abstract and ideal sense action for selfish or practical interest is
unseemly, unworthy of authentic obedience to God. Of
course the Afghan people I knew believed it was permissible to use means
to get relief from distress, and those means could include religious activities.
Practical motives for religious behavior was
acceptable when necessary, but they also took it for granted that obedience
to God was after all axiomatic.[TNH5]
So
another reason for the assiduous religious practice of at least some Afghans
at least some of the time was their deference to the higher moral values
entailed in the Islamic revelation.
Assumptions about human experience, motives and
culture
in this explanation
This
argument assumes a relation of human experience to human motivations that
bears on the concept of culture, specifically on the broadly accepted notion
that the dispositions of human beings are realized in and sublimated in
cultural (that is, symbolic) forms. As culture
is the human mode of apprehending reality, it constitutes the distinctive
human niche. Everything “real” -- bales
of hay, yokes of oxen, the calendar, justice, God, jinns, fear, love --
is by definition identified and understood by means of symbolic forms. From
this broadly accepted concept of culture I draw three implications not
widely appreciated: (1) that the shared experience of a communicating public
is reflected in the repertoire of symbolic forms that characterize their
social life; (2) that the more nuanced, complex symbols of the repertoire
are the symbolic devices through which sacrificial or altruistic behavior
is motivated; and (3) that explanations of human action in terms of “utilitarian
rationality” or “determining signs” are not necessarily contradictory,
as they focus on different ways the spectrum of symbols in the cultural
repertoire are entailed in human action. The latter distinction enables
us to identify some critical ways cultural forms are
enlisted in social and political action, especially to note a difference
between the way they are used for social or political purposes and the
way they function in actions that seem altruistic or self-sacrificial.
Symbols
have a semantically simple or denotative sense, in which case they refer
to the surface levels of human experience, those aspects of human experience
and understanding that are concerned with the conscious attempt to deal
with issues of life and social affairs. Symbols
in this sense refer to or correspond with "surface level" feelings and
stand for entities presumed to exist substantively and to operate mechanistically. But
in the repertoire of a communicating public some symbols are semantically
more complex than others and bear a range of other nuances associated variously
with more subtle levels of human experience, some of which are emotionally
"deep."The more diverse in meaning symbols are,
the more emotional complexity they may represent. The
"milk tree" among the Ndembu people of Africa, for example, stands for
many things: women's breasts, breast milk, the tie of nurturing between
mother and child, domestic social ties, the matrilineal bonds of the Ndembu
community, the principles and values of Ndembu social organization, tribal
custom, the unity and continuity of the community, even "powerful unconscious
wishes" (Turner 1967: 20 ff.). Such meanings are
enacted -- and therefore taught, internalized, and reproduced -- through
the rituals associated with the milk tree, notably those celebrating the
arrival of puberty.
Multivocalic
symbols like the milk tree among the Ndembu can represent emotional struggles
and may become the terms for deep psychic turbulence. They
may stand for moral entities in the sense that they objectify feelings
of anchorage into a world whose principles and values are of enduring and
general significance. While symbolic forms
taken in their matter of fact sense index only specific things and mechanistic
processes, those symbols that also carry additional nuances may represent
entities that are moral, transcendent and emotionally engaging. In
this sense multivocalic symbols can represent much that is important to
the self -- not only the overarching cosmology of higher values but also
the more visceral of human sensibilities, deeply felt worries and anxieties. Turner
says such symbols anchor not only "up" in the rarified stratosphere of
ultimate values but also "down" in the inexpressible depths of bodily pain
(Turner 1967:27 ff.). So they are more than
a storehouse of ideas that sort the world into usable categories; they
are also a "powerhouse," representing ideals deeply longed for and profoundly
sensed (Turner 1968:2). Such symbols can
be metaphors for the ideals, hopes, and fears of individual subjectivities.
This
relationship of symbolic repertoires to the subtleties of experience can
be graphically indicated in a diagram (Figure 1) on which the cultural
elements (such as the lexicon) of a communicating public are arranged according
to their relative semantic weight or vocality, those bearing the heaviest
semantic load clustered at one end of the scale and those bearing a relatively
light semantic load at the other. 4*
The
scale represents the collective life of a people, their emotional ontology,
as it were, as it is manifest in the repertoire of symbols available to
them. 5* That is, all the forms in a cultural
repertoire, since they objectify thought and feeling, are alike in having
a denotative sense, but the symbolic forms that bear a variety of meanings
have more emotional value in that they are forms through which individuals
conceptually and emotionally engage with entities believed to have significance
beyond their quotidian affairs (Lewis 1961). Such
imagined “realities” are in this sense taken by individuals as ready-made,
as representations of things and processes of general significance. In
Lewis’s terms they are “received”. Through
the semantically complex forms of culture people acknowledge some entities
as transcendent and axiomatic -- receiving the
The
more nuanced, multivocalic symbols in a cultural repertoire are the symbolic
devices through which sacrificial behavior may be
induced.
The
whole semantic repertoire is of course available for use, that is, for
practical ends, but the effect of multivocalic symbols representing transcendent
values is to objectify moral constraints on behavior. The
most extreme behavioral manifestations of internalized notions of transcendent
values is self-immolation. When people sacrifice
themselves -- Irish separatists hunger-striking in Belfast, Tamilese assassins
blowing themselves up along with targeted Sri Lankan officials, al Qaeda
assailants bombing an American warship -- they appear to be acting out
of a commitment to causes whose importance they believe supersedes their
own interests, even their own lives. Motivation
of this sort seems to challenge our usual assumptions about human motivations. If
a Palestinian youngster courts
death in a clash with Israeli troops (New
York Times,
It
seems crucial that a human science worthy of its name recognize the particular
way that this sort of self-sacrificial action is symbolically driven as
well as symbolically informed. Let us call
this kind of inducement to action "deference motives" to distinguish such
intentions from the "instrumental motives" that are generally assumed in
social science discourse. By instrumental
motives we mean, of course, practical or gainful inducements to human
action. Instrumentally driven behavior pursues
interests, establishes cultural practices, conventionalizes and legitimizes
behavior as people seek sustenance, security, and comfort (Harris 1979:
55 ff.). The "reality" driven by instrumental
concerns is a reality apprehended for use; if it is not easily apprehended
there is the presumption that eventually it could be specified, identified,
and so its mechanisms could be predicted and modified or otherwise tooled
for use. From the instrumentalist point
of view humans
are driven by practical quests
so that even relations that appear altruistic, without interest, are taken
to be at base driven by a search for gain: kinship, neighborhood, and cooperative
enterprises, says Bourdieu, are “inevitably interested”; and “[g]iving
is a way of possessing” (Bourdieu 1977:171; 1991:24). So
the conventions of social life turn out to be devices for seeking gain. They
are (a la Malinowski, Marvin Harris, and other “materialists,” of course)
tools.
By
deference
motives for action, I mean inducements that arise out of the human
propensity to internalize and visualize transcendence, to grasp "the order
and natural structure of the universe" (Bateson 1972 [1949]: 119). Deference
motives for human action are linked to symbols that "refer to values that
are regarded as ends in themselves, that is, to axiomatic values" (Turner
1967: 20). Turner believes such symbols enshrine
"... the crucial values of the believing community, ... whose ultimate
unity resides in its orientation towards transcendental and invisible powers"
(Turner 1968:2). Symbols of this sort "instigate
social actions. ... [T]hey may even be described
as 'forces,' in that they are determinable influences inclining persons
and groups to action" (1967: 36; Kafperer 1988; Hollon 2000). In
so far as they do so, they engage deeply sensitive levels of experience,
feelings that are visceral, sometimes expressed subconsciously as in dreams. There
are instrumental uses for all symbols, but multivocalic symbols
can representdeep
sentiments and commitments that can be engaged in action. *6
The
"reality" that a person driven by deferential motives deals with (to describe
them in stark terms) is informed by symbols bearing many nuances -- words
like sincerity, justice, and purity, and objects like the Vietnam Memorial,
the cross, the swastika, images of the Virgin of Guadalupe – which evoke
notions of universality, immutability. They
imply entities worthy of respect, perhaps enchanted, even wild, untamable
-- great truths to be accepted, taken for granted, too sublime for manipulation
or exploitation. But having multiple meanings
they are essentially ambiguous. They are
the kinds of symbols invoked in politics and religion, representing values
of a normative sort, to which a diverse public can attach various meanings
(Wilner 1984). Because their nuances are diffuse
they may be applied to a variety of contexts to represent significant notions,
but always with a greater chance for confusion or disagreement as to the
proper context of their use.
The
term "deference motives" is intended to objectify the notion that human
beings act (sometimes) as if their lives (to some degree) are framed by
axiomatic principles. In such instances
notions of transcendent significance connected to notions of a moral reality
seem to have been internalized and so constituted as the moral context
of life and behavior.
Recognizing
that no behavior is driven by a single motive, we can put the matter in
simple terms: behavior driven by "reason" or conscious intention entails
the use of cultural forms for instrumental purposes; behavior driven by
deep convictions of moral import entails the internalization of ideals
enshrined in multivocalic symbols. We regard
these two kinds of motivation as merely the two ends of a continuum, in
between which there is a mixture of inducements to action, partly practical
and partly deferential, in which both kinds of motives are to some degree
involved (Wilks 1993). Just as human experience
is a mélange of feelings, human action is normally impelled by several
motives, some practical, some deferential. There
can be several motives for a particular action, all of them symbolically
constituted.
This
is what Figure 2 (below) represents:In
the abstract there are two kinds of motives for human action and they relate
to the cultural repertoire in a different way: The whole repertoire can
be deployed for instrumental purposes. At
the same time some symbolic forms in the
repertoire are the means of orientation to a moral, transcendent reality
and so inform and shape behavior of the sort we call deferential.

Descriptions
of culture as a resource utilized for practical ends and of culture as
a system of determining signs are not contradictory but different ways
of seeing how the spectrum of cultural forms is engaged in social practice.
Studies
of cultural practice as impelled by instrumental concerns or as driven
by deferential concerns produce different kinds of ethnographic reports,
but they are not contradictory. They can
be complementary. Each approach to human
action provides a certain insight into the human condition. Compare
for example two works on South Asian Culture. Steve
Derné (1995: vii-viii) takes the action of North Indian Hindu men
to be instrumentally driven. They are "motivated
by social pressures" and their cultural context "constrains individuals
and affects their emotions, social life, and social institutions." The
central question is how people "manipulate cultural components to attribute
meaning to action." Derné assumes
that social life is carried on on a self-aware level of experience: People
are vitally engaged with their circumstances, events are consciously perceived,
the causes of sensations are presumed to be known, and thoughts are (or
can be) rationally articulated. In that
sense the cultural forms index "surface" experiences, as if human sentimental
worlds were semantically simple.
Regula
Qureshi (2000), on the other hand, describes how a musical instrument,
the sarangi[TNH7],
has become iconic for some modern South Asians. Its
timbre and melody have acquired a profusion of associations -- images of
sensual feminine dancers amid the sumptuary elegance of bygone princely
courts, pious jogis singing devotional ballads "to the unseen God" in which
they express "profound sadness and detachment from the world," and (in
the modern period) the convoluted tales of romantic Hindu films. Encoded
in its sound and form are "pasts remembered, ... stories both detailed
and dim ...," "layers of locally specific, historically situated, materially
perceived musical practices ... that both cue nostalgia and sustain identification
that is socially as well as religiously, culturally, and politically referenced"
(Qureshi 2000: 813, 829). The sounds of the
sarangi have at times served as a medium for sharing deep emotions: it
has been played on All India Radio upon the deaths of notable persons (Nehru,
Indira Gandhi), enabling the individual feelings of a dispersed audience
to become "public, shared, and exterior." In
such moments "bonds of shared responses [become] as deep and intimate as
they are broad and universal" (2000: 810). It
is from such public wellsprings of collective sentiment that cooperative
action is inspired.
Each
of these studies presents the human condition in
Rhetoric, commitment, and sacrificial behavior
Our
focus on variations in connotative complexity in the forms of a symbolic
repertoire, it should be noted, contrasts with the variations in meaning
recognized by de Saussure. For him the signs
in symbolic systems map semantic relations by mutually determining each
other's meanings, in which case the variance among them is denotative. We
note here a different sense in which symbols vary, that is, in their connotative
richness. Those symbols most pregnant with
meaning and nuance have a particular importance for anthropologistsbecause,
as they enshrine deeply felt sentiments -- anxiety, dread, joy – they may
be enlisted for social and political purposes.
By
noting a distinction between instrumental and deference motives for action
we identify different ways that the cultural repertoire is engaged in political
action. The forms of a culture function differently
when they are deployed to define situations from when they are “received”
as authentic characterizations of situations. The
difference may be expressed with respect to the role of leadership versus
that of followership. Those who would frame
the nature of public situations ("leaders") so as to enlist the support
of others ("followers") do so by appealing to "axiomatic values" of the
sort enshrined in multivocalic symbols -- as when Franklin Roosevelt quoted
the Bible in his fireside chats during the depression, when Ayatullah Khomaini
appealed to the sacred authority of Hosain in his [TNH8]sermons
to the Iranian people, or when Franjo Tudjman drew upon Catholic icons
to legitimate his appeal for a separate Croatia (Wilner 1984:154-156; Mersipassi-Ashtiani
1994; Denich 1994). In so far as such appeals win broad support, they do
so because, in their respective contexts, they infuse issues of immediate
and broadly shared concern with locally accepted notions of ultimate truth. This
kind of conjuncture of meanings is possible when the symbolic forms deployed
to define situations successfully fuse two “realities”: that of immediate
and practical concern and that of compelling moral significance. Behind
every ideological claim stand axiomatic truths that resonate with deeply
felt notions of value.
When
action is taken in response to such claims it is informed by two kinds
of circumstance: a material one, in which practical interests are at stake;
and a moral one, in which ultimate values seem to be entailed. It
is in this latter sense that multivocalic symbols may be said to “instigate
social actions,” to be “forces” that incline persons and groups to action. In
so far as an action seems sacrificial, “altruistic”, or self-immolative,
it is driven by notions of a sublime and principled reality. 7*
Acknowledgements:
I thank the following persons for comments on these ideas presented orally
in various contexts as well as on written drafts of this paper: Jon Anderson,
Ruth Brend, Tom Headland, Nancy Lindisfarne, Mustafa Mirseler, Audrey
Shalinsky.
2.
It should not be assumed that this medieval text has no relevance to current
religious thought among the
3.
The number of works that address how meanings are constructed in social
contexts is too numerous to mention. See
for example, besides the ones cited here, the writings of such authors
as Fredrik Barth, Clifford Geertz, Bruce Kapferer, Lisa Malkki, Marshall
Sahlins, Katherine Verdery.
4.
This diagram is roughly similar to Edmund Leach's chart of the various
forms of symbolic representation (1976).
5.
To keep the presentation simple I assume a view of culture that was once
more generally accepted among anthropologists than it is now, namely that
the members of a communicating public share a common culture, so that their
"culture" is in some unspecific sense "shared" by individual members of
the society. I realize that it is more common
today to regard a society's culture as a repertoire of symbolic forms available
for use by competing interests in the society; cultural forms are in this
sense deployed to define situations according to people's respective interests;
from this point of view the members of a communicating public may hold
competing cultural orientations, are differentially positioned, and for
these and other reasons may clash over how situations are defined.
From either concept of culture -- whether as the name for a shared worldview
among members of a society or as the name for a body of symbolic resources
that may be used variously by competing elements within a society -- anthropologists'
conceptions of how culture functions in social life recognize the different
ways that the cultural repertoire functions, in some cases as a tool, in
others' as a means of apprehending a world, as a source of information
and orientation.
6. Rosaldo
in his essay (1989) on his sense of grief at the loss of his wife, Michelle
Rosaldo, draws attention to the intensity and complexity of human emotion
but he stresses that they are manifest in diverse expressive forms, not
only in ritual. He points out that rituals
don't always represent much that is deeply personal or significant; they
can merely be conventions whose meaning is merely formal, not emotionally
("deeply") engaging. He appeals for more
sensitive treatments of deep human experience, which is always expressed
in local conventions of practice. And he
calls for a recognition of the "cultural force" of human emotion, because
deep feelings motivate action. Among the
Ilongot, he says, it impels such extreme acts as the decapitation of human
beings, which they say enables bereaved men to "cast away their life burdens,
including the rage in their grief" (1989:16). The
force of deep feelings, Rosaldo says, is not represented in
the amount of words expressed, for in fact some of the most profound
feelings may be unexpressed in words, but rather in other manifestations
of feeling (1989:20).
7.
This view of experience and culture is, I suppose, consistent with Maslow's
concept of the "self-actualized" individual, who may have "peak experiences,"
which are difficult to describe but may involve a momentary loss of self
and feelings of transcendence. "Maslow believed
that everyone is capable of having peak experiences, but he believed that
self?actualized persons have these experiences more often. (Britannica
Online: "motivation: self-actualization.")
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