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Introduction
The Promise of Contemporary Primatology
Primat-ology: the study of the members of the taxonomic Order, Primates. Primates are so special they have their own field of study. I get to call myself a primatologist, and (most) people know what this means. And, there are scholarly journals and societies whose explicit focus is primatology (e.g., the International Journal of Primatology and the International Primatological Society, respectively). But why are primates so special? Why do we have âprimatologyâ but not âErinaceamorphologyâ (i.e., the study of hedgehogs and their relatives)? The simple answer is because the order Primates includes us, humans. In the U.S., for example, primatology was given a home within anthropology, specifically in the subfield of biological anthropology, from its outset. This beginning dates back to the 1950s when physical anthropologist Earnest Hooton recognized the importance of primate studies for anthropology.1 In his landmark paper in support of primate studies, Hooton (1954: 180) contended that the term âprimatologyâ has a ââŠdual connotation: the study of the highest animal order and the study which of all the âologies is, or ought to be, primus, prime, or first in importance.â2 His student, Sherwood Washburn (1973) later published a paper titled âThe Promise of Primatologyâ in which he offered his vision of what primatology is and what he hoped it would become. Collectively, their vision was that the study of humansâ closest living relatives, the nonhuman primates (hereafter primates), could shed light on human origins and the evolution of human behavior. And there you have it: a field devoted to the study of primates â their ecology, behavior, anatomy, physiology, and genetics across time and space â was born.
Compared to anthropology, primatology is a young field, and yet, so much has changed in terms of the context and conditions for the study of primates in the six or so decades since its birth. Borrowing from my academic great-grandfather Washburn, my goal in this book is to articulate what I see as âthe promise of contemporary primatology.â3 With this goal, my focus is specifically on behavioral primatology in field settings. At the same time, this book is not meant to be an exhaustive coverage of all foci of todayâs behavioral primatology. Moreover, as a primatologist trained in the U.S., I note that my perspective primarily draws from the North American tradition of field primatology. While exploring the trends in contemporary primatology within different national traditions would be a fascinating endeavor, it is beyond the scope of this book. I do, however, weave in critical insights from other traditions when appropriate (e.g., Japanese schools of primatology).4 I also acknowledge that much of contemporary primatology â from molecular primatology to evolutionary anatomy to sensory ecology, to name a few â continues to follow and build upon the fundamental vision laid out by Hooton and Washburn; indeed, the promise of todayâs primatology is multifold (see Higham & Dominy 2018). But, these important bodies of work are not my focus.
Building upon my article âContemporary Primatology in Anthropology: Beyond the Epistemological Abyssâ (Riley 2013), the promise of contemporary primatology that I argue for in this book is about forging an expanded purpose for primatology â one that situates it not just within the subfield of biological anthropology, but within the field of anthropology as a whole. The contemporary primatology that I highlight herein recognizes the reality of the anthropogenic context in which primates live and uses a broadened lens that includes the human dimension. This contemporary primatology tells us what it means to be a primate and live alongside other primates, nonhuman and human; it elucidates how humans and other primates behave together, co-shaping each otherâs ecology, sociality, and evolutionary trajectories; it tells us what primates (human and nonhuman) mean to each other. It also contributes to broader anthropological questions of what it means to be human and why humans do what they do. For example, why do people tolerate crop-feeding behavior more so from primates than other wildlife? To probe the human condition, we need to understand humans as they relate to and interact with other animals, including our closest living relatives.
My motivation for writing this book is multifold. First, despite the reality that primates are living in spaces increasingly modified by people, attention to the human dimension in existing general texts on primate behavior and ecology is largely relegated to concluding chapters on the plight of remaining primate populations.5 Early on, Washburn himself recognized humans as primate predators and noted the considerable time depth of that role (Washburn & Hamburg 1968). Although in the last two decades growing attention is being paid to anthropogenic impacts on primates, humans are generally viewed as extrinsic factors, rather than as key components of the ecological communities in which primates live. The implications of this difference in perspective are significant, for the latter view allows us to more fully appreciate the role of humans in effecting evolutionary change. In this book, I provide examples of how and why actually studying the anthropogenic context is integral to our understanding of a whole suite of primate characteristics â from aspects of their biologies and ecologies to their conservation status. In doing so, my goal is to illustrate how our ability to investigate and interpret the adaptive significance of primate behavior is not compromised by the anthropogenic touch.
Second, even though the âscience warsâ are technically behind us, perceptions that a wide epistemological gulf exists between primatology and sociocultural anthropology, and that evolutionary approaches provide the sole means for a unified anthropology, persist.6 With this book, I hope to dissolve these perceptions and motivate anthropological primatologists to continue exploring interesting points of intersection across anthropology in the twenty-first century and beyond. Biological anthropologist Karen Strier once remarked that âbeing a primatologist in an anthropology department sometimes felt like being the lone gorilla in zoo â no one remembered how we got there, there was no plan to provide us a companion, and they probably werenât going to replace us when we diedâ (2011: 7). The time has come for such sentiments to truly become a thing of the past.
This book is also motivated by the revolutionary vision outlined by Washburn (1951, 1953) with his âThe New Physical Anthropologyâ and its more modern manifestation as âThe New Biological Anthropologyâ (Fuentes 2010).7 As part of the 15th Cold Spring Harbor Symposium on Quantitative Biology, âOrigin and Evolution of Man,â that Washburn co-advised in 1950 with evolutionary biologist Theodore Dobzhansky, Washburn articulated his vision for what he called âThe New Physical Anthropology.â Washburn (1951, 1953) argued for a shift in strategy away from mere description, measurement, and classification toward one focused on process and function and the use of evolutionary theory as an explanatory framework. Importantly, Washburn was not shunning description per se; rather, he argued that it should not be the end point. It should lead to an analytic stage focused on understanding the processes that led to the form, whether physical or behavioral, under study: âEmphasis on adaptation helps in the evaluation of the structures which are used in classification, and the constant emphasis on function and behavior frequently leads to the interpretation of descriptive dataâ (Washburn 1963: 203). He called for replacing the static, typological approach, which was 80 percent measurement with a more dynamic, theory-driven one that was 80 percent process. While these elements of Washburnâs vision along with his emphasis on experimentation are widely cited, it is important to not lose sight of the fact that Washburn also recognized the importance of interdisciplinary work: to âunderstand the process of human evolution we need a modern dynamic biology and a deep appreciation of the history and functioning of cultureâ (Washburn 1953: 726). This appreciation of contingency was also apparent in his view of primate behavior:
Therefore, Washburn envisioned a new physical anthropology that was simultaneously a biological science and a social science.
In the current era we see that his vision is alive and well, if not more aptly represented as âThe New Biological Anthropology,â which anthropologist AgustĂn Fuentes (2010: 5) considers a âmore accurate, encompassing view of what we do.â Today, we continue to build upon the vision of Washburn and other founders but, importantly, we are also pushing past old boundaries, creating expanded theoretical landscapes and new methodologies from linkages across anthropologyâs subfields and allied disciplines (e.g., biology, ecology, sociology, and science studies). My objective is for this book to reflect on this new, exciting path. It explores evolving paradigms and the blurring of borders, conceptual and disciplinary. It identifies points of intersection and spaces for collaborative exchange within the field of anthropology as well as beyond. This book is inherently reflexive; I am an anthropological primatologist looking in, turning my gaze toward the field that I myself practice, and in turn, hope to shape.
My Academic Coordinates
To appreciate my perspective and arguments, let me first clarify my academic coordinates, which lie at the intersection of primatology, environmental anthropology, and conservation. Iâm a hybrid of sorts. I became interested in anthropology in high school when taking a class on âClassical Civilizationsâ that was offered as part of the International Baccalaureate (IB) program that I was fortunate to be enrolled in. It was because of this class that I became obsessed with arguably one of the most incredible archaeological discoveries: the life-sized terracotta soldiers that formed a wall of protection around the 1st Emperor of China, Qin Shi Huang Diâs, tomb in Xiâan, China. Archaeology it was; well, until it wasnât. All it took was one day as a volunteer at an archaeological dig during a hot, sticky summer in southern Maryland for me to change my mind super quick. I remained nonetheless committed to pursuing an anthropology degree. So, in my first semester as an undergraduate at Beloit College, in lieu of taking the introduction to archaeology course, I enrolled in biological anthropology. Learning about fossil hominins captivated me, but, like archaeological material, hominin remains must also be âdug up.â8 Nope. Oh, but anthropologists also study living primates of the nonhuman kind? Sold.
Besides my newly found love for primates, I was also passionate about international travel and was particularly keen on studying abroad in a place outside of my comfort zone. It just so happened that one of the sociocultural anthropologists in the anthropology department at Beloit College was leading a study abroad to Zimbabwe. It didnât take much convincing; I was in. My professor and soon-to-be program leader knew I was interested in primates, and figured I might also be interested in conservation, so he suggested a book for me to read: The Myth of Wild Africa by conservation scholars Jonathan Adams and Thomas McShane (1992). This book heavily influenced my thinking about conflict and coexistence between people and wildlife and the practice of conservation, and so much so that I chose to focus my independent research project that semester on the emerging community-based conservation efforts in Zimbabwe rather than on its primates. A seed was laid.
Upon graduating from college, I was eager to get my feet wet in primatology, so I immediately accepted a position as a behavioral care technician at a large breeding facility for primates in South Carolina. It was here that I developed my love for macaques. The facility was macaque-tastic: it housed five species (Macaca mulatta, Macaca fascicularis, Macaca nemestrina, Macaca maura, and Macaca sylvanus) numbering in the thousands. I remember being completely overwhelmed when I first got there, thinking: how will I learn them all? It certainly took some time, but it was here that I not only learned a lot about macaque social behavior and the trials and tribulations of captive care and management, but also about the macaques as subjective beings. Conducting daily behavioral observations, managing the reintroduction of individuals into their social groups, and merging social groups over a period of three years meant that I came to know (almost) every single one of them as individuals. This appreciation of the subjectivities of our primate subjects continues to inform how I approach primate research.
After three years of captive work it was time for me to move on, so I began looking at graduate programs in primatology. When doing so, all of the literature I read and the experiences I gained during my study abroad program kept resurfacing in my mind. I realized that I didnât want to just study primate behavior; I wanted to study it in a broader context that included people and the environment. That context was provided by the Ph.D. program in Environmental and Ecological Anthropology at the University of Georgia (UGA). Through this program I took coursework in biological anthropology, sociocultural anthropology, historical ecology, ecological anthropology, primatology, conservation ecology, ecological economics, and tropical ecological and cultural systems. Hybridity. It was also during graduate school that I was introduced to the newly emerging approach of ethnoprimatology (Sponsel 1997; Wheatley 1999; Fuentes & Wolfe 2002) â the study of the human-primate interface â and my interest in conducting anthropological work that is integrative across the sub-fields, and has both fundamental and appli...