Over the last 12,000 years, human societies have changed in dramatic ways. We have gone from small hunter-gatherer groups to highly urbanised communities and industrialised nation-states in a globally interconnected world. These changes are typically considered indicative of a massive increase in social complexity. Yet, what exactly constitutes social complexity and how it changes over time is not altogether clear and not always made explicit. Social complexity is often used as a catch-all concept for a variety of different processes and characteristics. It has been noted that “Inequality, large-scale networks of cooperation, institutionalized leadership, and hierarchical forms of governance all are central elements of the human career, often lumped under the rubric of social complexity” (Feinman, 2017, p. 459). Archaeological definitions of social complexity commonly involve aspects of scale, functional differentiation, and hierarchical power structures. To illustrate the point, I refer to a definition by Gary Feinman, who stated that social complexity is:
“The extent of functional differentiation among social units, [which] may be vertical or horizontal; vertical complexity is hierarchical governance with a degree of concentration in decision making and power, [whereas] horizontal complexity is the differentiation of a population into various roles or subgroups.”
(Feinman, 2012, p. 36)
The emergence of social complexity has been ascribed to a variety of drivers, including environmental pressures, population growth, innovation and technology transfers, warfare, peer-polity interaction, surplus production, and redistribution and individual agency. Trends of increasing complexity have been mostly noted in: (1) Agriculture (Boserup, 1965; Clark and Haswell, 1964; Minnis, 1996; Nelson, 1996; Wilkinson, 1973); (2) Technology (Arthur, 2015; Nelson, 1996; Wilkinson, 1973); (3) Competition and warfare (Carneiro, 1970); and (4) Socio-political control and specialisation (Carballo et al., 2014; Feinman, 2011; Spencer, 2014; Tainter, 1988).
Traditionally, archaeologists consider social complexity as a defining property of ‘complex societies’, as opposed to ‘simple societies’, with the former evolving out of the latter. This is the premise of social evolutionary approaches which will be discussed in the next chapter. While such perspectives have been rightfully criticised and largely abandoned in contemporary archaeology, the moniker of ‘complex societies’ is still fully in vogue. Complex societies can be generally defined as those human societies consisting of large numbers of people, many social and economic roles and large permanent settlements (Barton, 2014).
In this book, I will explore social complexity from the perspective of complex systems thinking, focusing particularly on the properties and effects of social interaction and information transmission in human societies. A related definition states that “complex social systems are those in which individuals frequently interact in many different contexts with many different individuals, and often repeatedly interact with many of the same individuals over time” (Freeberg et al., 2012, p. 1787). This approach transcends qualitative dichotomies between simple and complex societies, and emphasises instead the (quantitative) differences in scale of flows of energy, resources, and information in societies as the defining aspects of social complexity trajectories. Traditional complexity characteristics such as monumental architecture, political institutions, and economic specialisation are seen as emergent phenomena produced by these underlying flows.
Social complexity is a topical subject in archaeology. An interesting debate that has been raging in the last few years involves the so-called ‘moralising gods’ hypothesis or ‘Big Gods’ theory (Norenzayan et al., 2016; Whitehouse et al., 2019b). This theory states that religious beliefs emerged as evolutionary by-products of human cognitive development and were repurposed as moralising tendencies upheld by supernatural surveillance and punishment. It is also claimed that supernatural beliefs reinforce social coordination as a prerequisite for the development of social complexity. The main point of contention is whether the belief in supernatural beings imposing a moral order preceded the development of ‘complex’ societies or not. In case of the former, it is suggested that the moral order imposed by supernatural beings provided a prosocial mechanism to overcome the classic free-rider problem and facilitate social cooperation among non-king members of society, thus allowing group sizes to grow beyond the limits of direct, face-to-face relations, and social complexity to increase (Whitehouse et al., 2019b). Others have disputed such a direct, causal relationship (Norenzayan et al., 2016) and argue instead that a more general standardisation of ritual practices among a large population precedes the emergence of moralising gods and is a far more important factor in the emergence of large social groups and social complexity (Whitehouse et al., 2015).
In an attempt to settle this debate – and advance the study of social complexity in general – the Seshat: Global History Databank project is building perhaps the most ambitious comparative research project in archaeology to date, compiling an online database currently containing data from 414 societies covering 30 regions across the world from the past 10,000 years.1 By conducting time series analysis on this dataset, the Seshat project argued that moralising gods only emerged once the rise of social complexity had crossed a certain size threshold (Whitehouse et al., 2019b).
In a scathing response, a group of scholars produced heavy criticism regarding the methods, data quality, and biases unaccounted for in the study (Beheim et al., 2019). Other research groups such as the Database of Religious History project2 have also questioned the coding practices and reliability of data collection by the Seshat project (Slingerland et al., 2019). This criticism prompted a string of responses by the Seshat team, in which they defend and uphold their original analysis and results (Savage et al., 2019; Turchin et al., 2019; Whitehouse et al., 2019b).
While the importance of this debate – including the original claims as well as the concerns raised against them – must be acknowledged, I will not dwell on the detail of the argument. Instead, I want to use this debate to illustrate the importance of proper data collection, coding practices, and methods, as well as stress how working in a transparent framework geared towards openness and reproducibility can stimulate the development of ideas and the future advancement of our discipline. The creation of openly accessible databases such as the Seshat Databank is an essential part of the development of archaeology as a scientific discipline. Even though the process is still showing some growth pains, I believe that efforts such as these constitute an important way forward for our discipline by facilitating quantitative analysis and synthetic research on topics such as social complexity. Recently, it has increasingly been argued that we are on the brink of a new era of ‘big data’ in archaeology which will reshape our discipline (Gattiglia, 2015; Graham et al., 2016; Huggett, 2020; White, 2016). More data allows us to distil patterns we could not possibly gather from small datasets. The potential of big data analysis to lift archaeological debates to a higher level is exciting indeed. However, to unlock this potential it is essential to provide both bottom-up and top-down embedding of data-based approaches:
“… initiatives seeking to marry quantitative and qualitative historical research must work from the ground up … and thereby amassing more granular, accurate and meaningful data on each.”
(Slingerland et al., 2019, p. 14)
This quote captures the idea that big data analysis in archaeology can only be pursued when supported by a foundation of in-depth expert knowledge and fine-grained data collection, that is, by adding a dimension of contextualisation and embedding. At the same time, it is essential to complement big data analysis with proper theory, conceptual knowledge, and hypotheses to guide our analysis and move beyond ‘blind’ interpretations driven by radical empiricism (Coveney et al., 2016; Huggett, 2020). This book aims to contribute to such an enriched approach by building a general conceptual framework to describe and explain social complexity trajectories. Such a framework needs to be able to deal with the messiness and limitations of archaeological data, while also allowing to draw out wider patterns of interpretation. The theoretical starting point for this approach is situated in complex systems thinking.