http://cambridgesocialanthropology.blogspot.mx/ – 2 Feb 2014
In the first CUSAS seminar this term, on Thursday 23rd January, Dr. Aparecida Vilaça presented her paper titled ‘Do Animists become Naturalists when Converting to Christianity? Discussing an Ontological Turn’.Aparecida Vilaça is currently Associate Professor in the Postgraduate Program in Social Anthropology, Museu Nacional/Universidade Federal do Rio de Janeiro, and a researcher for the National Science Research Council (CNPq). Since 1986 she has worked among the Wari’ Indians of Southwestern Amazonia, Brazil. Fieldwork has been financed by the Ford Foundation, the Wenner-Gren Foundation for Anthropological Research (predoctoral grant and international collaborative grant), and Finep. She was Professor Invité at the Ecole des Hautes Etudes en Sciences Sociales in Paris in 1999, Directeur d’Etudes Invité at the Ecole Pratique des Hautes Etudes in the same city in 2000, Visiting Professor of the Centre of Latin American Studies of the University of Cambridge in 2001, and Visiting Scholar in the Department of Social Anthropology at the same university in 2004. She is a visiting fellow at CRASSH during Lent term this year.
You can listen to the full lecture here.
Read Josef Ellis’ response to Dr. Vilaça’s paper:
Ontological Purification? A Response to (the responses to) Aparecida Vilaça’s CUSAS seminar
Dr. Aparecida Vilaça’s paper ‘Do animists become naturalists when converting to Christianity? Discussing an ontological turn’ sparked considerable ‘debate’ among the audience that witnessed its delivery. Yet the absence of one party in the debate was conspicuous, something I would like to remedy here. I might even suggest that the rhetoric of the arguments mobilised by the audience on Thursday afternoon contain striking resemblances to the very type of ‘purification’ or ‘apartheid building’ they aimed to attack. In doing so, I will illustrate how Dr. Vilaça’s paper strikes at the heart of contemporary developments in anthropological theory.
While an inferior rehashing of Vilaça’s paper would be a waste (a recording of the talk is available on the CUSAS blog), I will briefly sketch a part of her argument. Vilaça discussed the Wari’, a group of Amazonian Indians in South-western Brazil. The Wari’, prior (and perhaps after) conversion to Christianity are considered by anthropologists to have been ‘perspectivist animists’. In other words, the Wari’ might be said to exist in an ontology in which each subject, both animal and human, is internally intensively differentiated from itself: living entities are therefore particular modulations of this infinite difference, actualised through the dispositions and perspectival positions which can be glossed as the ‘body’ (Viveiros de Castro 1998, 2012 cf. Vilaça 2005, 2009). The body, nature or exteriority is what varies, with culture or interiority unifying all species (Ibid, Descola 2013). Wari’, and Amazonian ontologies are thus an inversion of Western naturalism, or multiculturalism, being instead a multinatural mode of existence. Vilaça drew out how this multinaturalism has also reared its head in high-theory, discussing various authors associated with the ‘ontological turn’ who, catalysed by the self-refuting universalism of cultural relativism (and also a particular lecture series held in the department (Holbraad in Viveiros de Castro 2012), shift anthropological questions away from representation and epistemology to investigations on a ontological plane, in turn eliciting a probing of the multiple natures of humanity, rather than remaining within the limits of western naturalism (Latour 1993, Viveiros de Castro 1998, 2003, Descola 2013). To return to the Wari’, it would seem that they are an exemplar of one of these divergent natures the ontological turn is concerned with. So what happens when they convert to a Christian (naturalist) religion?
To violently reduce her nuanced and subtle ethnography; Vilaça argued the Wari’ did not simply reject or convert to naturalism. Instead, upon conversion to Christianity, the perspectivist regime seemed to encompass the naturalist. Instead of resulting in a stable background of a biological body, Wari’ bodies were still given by perspectives, only now in relation to God, or in some cases, the devil. Similarly, Vilaça argued that the Christian devil itself was a powerful generator of hybrids in Latour’s sense, entities that violate the modern constitution of the rupture of nature and culture (1993). Vilaça drew out two related implications for the ontological turn from this ethnography. Firstly, given that perspectivist animism and Christian naturalism appeared in some sense to exist at the same time among the Wari’, she aimed to qualify the strength of arguments which posit a radical separation between the two. In a related way, she drew attention to the fact that Christianity is not such a purely naturalist formation, as seen in its hybrid-producing devil (although that would make Christianity ‘modern’ in Latour’s sense).
The audience appeared to take this qualification extremely well, and many comments were made regarding the danger of the ontological turn’s supposed positing of extreme alterity between naturalists (the west) and other ontologies (the rest) (cf. Laidlaw 2012). Similarly, the ontological turn was attacked for being overly concerned with contradiction, and invited to entertain the presence of contradictory ontological potentials within cultures (or natures) rather than between them. Case closed then? Not quite.
I want to make it clear that some of the stronger anti-ontological worries and arguments emerged from the discussion of the paper, rather than being argued in the paper itself. Nevertheless, I offer a few small rebuttals for reasons of provocation rather than desiring to become a representative of a particular ‘side’. Firstly, the argument that the ontological turn consists of constructing an image of the world involving geographically bound ontological ‘zones’ should be questioned. This argument reacts more to the rhetoric and political pragmatism of the ontological turn than its analytical content (cf. Candea in Venkatesan et al. 2010). When Viveiros de Castro spoke of ‘the Amazonian ontology’ he did so out of an allegiance to a political project of ‘conceptual emancipation’ or perhaps the radicalisation of an ‘Amerindian war machine’ (sensu Deleuze & Guattari 1988) against Western philosophy (Latour 2009). Put simply, in the genesis of such a political project, initially clearly delineated lines might have to be drawn. This has lead to some confusion when other in members of the ontological term used the slogan of conceptual self-determination, giving the sense of bounded, or essentialized ontologies to be intellectually liberated wholesale (Henare et al 2007, Alberti et al 2011).
Yet as was made extremely clear in a recent positional paper at the AAA in Chicago this year, ontological self-determination is not concerned with the positing of the rest against the West, but rather about the recognition of the capacity to differ, which operate within a particular social milieu as much as between them (Holbraad, Pedersen & Viveiros de Castro 2014) This allows the ‘non-sceptical elicitation of this manifold of potentials for how things could be’ an understanding of the ‘otherwise’’ (ibid, cf. Povinelli 2012). Ontologies that appear to ‘contradict’ one another are not bulldozed by this project, they are expected by it. This leads me onto a second point about contradiction. As was perceptively put by an extremely esteemed member of the audience (as well as someone who has used ontology extensively recently cf. Lloyd 2013), the Western philosophical concern with the law of non-contradiction has been rather overstated, particularly in anthropology, and perhaps our writing should shift away from ‘purifying’ social contexts into embracing their ambiguities. While I would agree wholeheartedly with this statement (indeed I believe the particular faction of the ontological turn I am discussing would similarly give ascent), I want to make a small point in rebuttal. Even when we acknowledge, as Latour famously did, that western purification is accompanied by the production of hybrids it denies are possible, this does not remove the fact that the discourses of the most powerful in our societies are very much within the terms of the impossibility of contradiction. If the ontological turn is ultimately a ‘technology of description’ (Pedersen 2012) that aims to recognise the otherwise as ‘viable as a real alternative’ (Holbraad, Pedersen & Viveiros de Castro 2014) then this must necessarily need to reflect something of our political grammar to have any effect. While contradiction may always be present, the impulse to make sense out of the contradictory is a necessary side-effect of taking something seriously, and should not be dismissed easily. The ontological turn is a movement that is rapidly maturing, and I might suggest that some of the criticisms that were mobilised on Thursday were rather purificatory in their reduction of a theoretical turn that is shifting under our feet.
It is precisely for this reason that one might consider Vilaça’s paper an example of the productiveness that the turn to ontology has lent to our discipline. This is a productivity that does not reduce in any direction, but gives us the sensitivity to fathom complexity, both here and elsewhere.
Alberti, B., Fowles, S., Holbraad, M., Marshall, Y. & Witmore, C. (2011). “Worlds Otherwis” Archaeology, Anthropology and Ontological Difference. Current Anthropology. 52 (6). 896-912
Deleuze, G. & Guattari, F. (1988). A Thousand Plateaus: Capitalism and Schizophrenia. Trans. Massumi, B. Minneapolis: University of Minnesota Press.
Descola, P. (2013). Beyond Nature and Culture. Trans. Lloyd, J. Chicago: University of Chicago Press.
Holbraad, M., Pedersen, M. & Viveiros de Castro, E. (2014). The Politics of Ontology: Anthropological Posistions. Fieldsights – Theorizing the Contemporary, Cultural Anthropology Online. January 13, 2014, http://culanth.org/fieldsights/462-the-politics-of-ontology-anthropological-positions
Laidlaw, J. (2012). Ontologically Challenged. Anthropology of this Century. 4.
Latour, B. (1993). We Have Never Been Modern. Trans. Porter, C. Cambridge: Harvard University Press
Latour, B. (2009). Perspectivism: ‘Type’ or ‘Bomb’. Anthropology Today. 25 (2) 1-2
Lloyd, G. E. R. (2013). Being, Humanity and Understanding. Oxford: Oxford University Press.
Pedersen, M. A. (2012). Common Nonsense: A Review of Certain Recent Reviews of the Ontological Turn. Anthropology of This Century. 5.
Povinelli, E. A. (2012). The Will to be Otherwise/The Effort of Endurance. South Atlantic Quaterly. 111 (3). 453-457
Venkatesan, S. (2010). Ontology is Just Another Word for Culture: Motion Tabled at the 2008 Meeting of the Group for Debates in Anthropological Theory, University of Manchester. Critique of Anthropology. 30 (2) 152-200
Vilaça, A. (2005). Chronically Unstable Bodies: Reflections on Amazonian
Corporalities. Journal of the Royal Anthropological Institute. 11 (3). 445-464
Vilaça, A. (2009). Bodies in Perspective: A Critique of the Embodiment Paradigm from the Point of View of Amazonian Ethnography. Social Bodies. Eds Lambert, H. & McDonald, M. Oxford: Berghahn Books. 129-147
Viveiros de Castro, E. (1998a). Cosmological Deixis and Amerindian Perspectivism. Journal of the Royal Anthropological Institute. 4. 469-488
Viveiros de Castro, E. (2003). ‘AND’. Manchester Papers in Social Anthropology 7.
Viveiros de Castro, E. (2012). Cosmological Perspectivism in Amazonia and Elsewhere. Hau Masterclass Series. 1.
Elephants, chimpanzees and some cetaceans have shown that they can recognize themselves in a mirror. James Hill for The New York Times
By JAMES GORMAN
Published: December 9, 2013
What is a person?
“Beings who recognize themselves as ‘I’s.’ Those are persons.” That was the view of Immanuel Kant, said Lori Gruen, a philosophy professor at Wesleyan University who thinks and writes often about nonhuman animals and the moral and philosophical issues involved in how we treat them.
She was responding to questions in an interview last week after advocates used a new legal strategy to have chimpanzees recognized as legal persons, with a right to liberty, albeit a liberty with considerable limits.
The Nonhuman Rights Project, an advocacy group led by Steven M. Wise, filed writs of habeas corpus in New York last week on behalf of four captive chimpanzees: Tommy, owned by a Gloversville couple; two at Stony Brook University; and one at the Primate Sanctuary in Niagara Falls. The lawsuits were dismissed, but Mr. Wise said he planned to appeal.
He believes that the historical use of habeas corpus lawsuits as a tool against human slavery offers a model for how to fight for legal rights for nonhumans.
His case relies heavily on science. Nine affidavits from scientists that were part of the court filings offer opinions of what research says about the lives, thinking ability and self-awareness of chimpanzees.
Mr. Wise argues that chimps are enough like humans that they should have some legal rights; not the right to vote or freedom of religion — he is not aiming for a full-blown planet of the apes — but a limited right to bodily liberty. The suits asked that the chimps be freed to go to sanctuaries where they would have more freedom.
Richard L. Cupp, a law professor at Pepperdine University in California who opposes granting rights to nonhuman animals, described the legal strategy as “far outside the mainstream.” He said in an email, “The courts would have to dramatically expand existing common law for the cases to succeed.”
Lori Marino of Emory University, who studies dolphins and other cetaceans and is the science director of the Nonhuman Rights Project, said it “is about more than these four chimpanzees.” Mr. Wise, she said, “sees this as the knob that can turn a lot of things. It’s potentially transformative.”
She said she was under no illusion that rights for animals would be easy to gain. “It may not happen in anyone’s lifetime,” she said.
The science of behavior is only part of the legal argument, though it is crucial to the central idea — that chimps are in some sense autonomous. Autonomy can mean different things, depending on whether you are talking about chimpanzees, drones or robot vacuum cleaners, and whether you are using the language of law, philosophy or artificial intelligence.
Dr. Gruen sees it as a term that is fraught with problems in philosophy, but Dr. Marino said that for the purposes of the legal effort, autonomy means “a very basic capacity to be aware of yourself, your circumstances and your future.”
Science can’t be decisive in such an argument, as Dr. Gruen points out, but what it can do is support or undermine this idea of autonomy. “If you form the right kinds of questions,” she said, “there are important answers that science can give about animal cognition and animal behavior.”
Dr. Marino said that science could “contribute evidence for the kinds of characteristics that a judge may find to be part of autonomy.”
Dr. Gruen, Dr. Marino and Mr. Wise made presentations at a conference, Personhood Beyond the Human, at Yale over the weekend. They spoke in interviews related to the court case during the week before the conference.
The kind of science that supports the idea of chimpanzees as autonomous could also support the idea that many other animals fit the bill. There are affidavits related to cognitive ability, tool use, social life and many other capabilities of chimpanzees, but there are questions about how pertinent each line of evidence is.
“Is that important for being a philosophical person — tool use itself?” Dr. Gruen asked.
The issues of self-awareness and of awareness of past and future strike to the heart of a common-sense view of what personhood might be. Chimps, elephants and some cetaceans have shown that they can recognize themselves in a mirror.
But the rights project is claiming more, saying that for chimps, as Dr. Marino put it, “you know it was you yesterday, you today, you tomorrow,” and “you have desires and goals for the future.”
There is plenty of evidence that chimpanzees and other animals act for the future. Some birds hide seeds to recover in leaner times, for example.
One affidavit is from Matthias Osvath, of Lund University in Sweden, who studies the thinking ability of animals, particularly great apes and some birds. He cites a number of studies of chimps that support the idea they have a sense of the future, including resisting an immediate reward to gain a tool that will get them a larger reward.
In one well-known piece of research by Dr. Osvath, he reported on Santino, a chimp at a zoo in Sweden who stockpiled and hid rocks he would later throw at human visitors. Dr. Osvath argued that Santino had the capacity to think of himself making future use of the rocks he saved.
Science cannot prove what went on in Santino’s mind. But Dr. Marino said the cumulative evidence could be used to ask a judge, “If you look at all the evidence in total, then what kind of being could produce all that evidence?”
Not all proponents of animal welfare are convinced that calling for rights for animals is the best way to go.
Dr. Gruen said that she had misgivings about the rights approach, philosophically and politically. “My own view is that it makes more sense to think about what we owe animals.” Progress on that front in 2013, particularly for chimpanzees, has surprised and delighted many activists. The National Institutes of Health is retiring most of its chimpanzees. And the United States Fish and Wildlife Service has proposed changes that would classify all chimps, even those in laboratories, as endangered, a move that would raise obstacles to experiments on privately owned chimps.
One point to remember is that personhood does not mean being human. Robert Sapolsky, a primatologist and neuroscientist at Stanford University who was not associated with the lawsuit, said, “I think the evidence certainly suggests that chimps are self-aware and autonomous.” That still leaves a vast gap between chimps and humans, he said. Chimps may look ahead in hiding food for later, or planning “how to ambush monkeys they are hunting.” Humans, he noted, could think about “the consequences of global warming for their grandchildren’s grandchildren, or of the sun eventually dying, or of them eventually dying.”
A version of this news analysis appears in print on December 10, 2013, on page D1 of the New York edition with the headline: The Humanity of Nonhumans.
Por Marino Niola
Philippe Descola herdou a cátedra de Lévi-Strauss em Paris. E conta como a disciplina está evoluindo: “Há muitas formas de vida. Temos que levar isso em conta”. Em alguns países, a proteção e o respeito pelos recursos vitais foram incluídos na Constituição. É preciso aprender a coabitar.
A antropologia de Lévi-Strauss era uma grande teoria sobre o ser humano. A antropologia de hoje, ao contrário, deve ir além do humano. O ser humano sozinho não lhe basta mais. Porque natureza e cultura são uma só coisa. Sociedade e meio ambiente, uma só casa. As neurociências, a etologia, a genética, a ecologia falam claramente. Nós, bípedes, com o dom da palavra, não somos o umbigo do mundo, mas sim parte da vida, quer gostemos ou não.
Philippe Descola sorri maliciosamente. Ele assumiu o lugar de Lévi-Strauss na cátedra de antropologia mais prestigiada do planeta. A do Collège de France. Tudo aqui ainda fala do mestre que revolucionou as ciências do ser humano. Livros, estantes, objetos exóticos descritos precisamente em Tristes Trópicos. “Obviamente, eu não sou o herdeiro de Claude Lévi-Strauss, mas só o seu sucessor”, explica, com bom humor.
Eis a entrevista.
Um homem que tinha uma imensa e preciosa erudição, de savant de outros tempos.
E que não é mais de hoje. A sua análise dos mitos é um virtuosismo acrobático. Obras como O Pensamento Selvagem e O cru e o cozido são o produto de um talento pessoal muito próximo ao de um artista. Ele era capaz de se lembrar de um fragmento de um conto japonês lido 20 anos antes e de conectá-lo aos mitos dos nativos da América ou da Grécia que ele estudava naquele momento. Ou a um acorde da tetralogia de Wagner.
Lévi-Strauss fez da antropologia um dos grandes saberes do século XX. Ele demonstrou que, por trás das diferenças entre as culturas, há analogias escondidas que permitem remeter a miríade de diversidades a poucas leis gerais, comuns a todos os seres humanos.
Ele tratava as diferenças entre as culturas como variações de um mesmo tema musical. E a sua grande lição é que a tarefa da antropologia é ir além das diferenças superficiais, além da etnografia, para alcançar aquilo que nos torna todos igualmente humanos.
Ou até todos seres vivos. Humanos e não humanos. Nisso, Lévi-Strauss antecipou aquele sentimento de unidade entre sociedade e natureza, que envolve milhões de cidadãos globais. Não é por acaso que o senhor preferiu rebatizar a sua cátedra como “Antropologia e natureza”, tornando-se assim continuador do Lévi-Strauss mais atual e profético.
O fato é que os homens não estão sozinhos no palco da humanidade. E o resto, aquilo que normalmente se chama de natureza ou meio ambiente, não é propriedade nossa, nem uma projeção nossa, muito menos um simples recurso à disposição do nosso desenvolvimento. As outras criaturas, animais, plantas, minerais, também são coinquilinos do mundo. Não são coisas ou formas de vida, mas sim verdadeiros agentes sociais, que têm os mesmos direitos que os seres humanos. E muitas vezes características em comum, que não são meramente biológicas, mas até culturais. É por isso que hoje a antropologia não pode mais se limitar ao ser humano, mas deve estender o seu olhar a todos os seres com os quais interagimos e convivemos.
E, além disso, a nossa ideia de natureza é relativamente recente.
Ela começa a se desenvolver só no século XVII, no início da modernidade, quando o mundo foi dividido em duas partes. De um lado, o universo das convenções e das regras, ou seja, a cultura. De outro, o mundo dos fenômenos e das leis da natureza.
De um lado, a pessoa humana, de outro, as não pessoas, isto é, todo o resto. Mas, desse modo, o ser vivo é cortado em dois e separados de uma parte de si mesmo. Essa foi a concepção que legitimou a dominação e a exploração do ser humano, assim como da natureza?
Certamente. Além de tudo isso, essa oposição entre cultura e natureza, entre ser humano e as outras criaturas, não é nem universal. Muitos povos não a compartilham. Basta pensar no primeiro capítulo da nova Constituição do Equador, que protege precisamente os direitos da natureza, em que a natureza, diferentemente de nós, aparece como uma espécie de pessoa viva. Justamente como a Pachamama, a mãe terra das religiões mesoamericanas.
Não por acaso, o presidente boliviano, Evo Morales, e uma cúpula latino-americana reconheceram que os ecossistemas enquanto tais têm direitos. Um modo diferente de sistematizar os problemas, que, também à luz de dramas como o do Chifre da África, deveria começar a influenciar a agenda política planetária, especialmente em matéria de bens comuns.
Em muitos países do mundo, é inconcebível que os recursos vitais sejam privatizados. A própria ideia de que existe um mercado dos bens de subsistência é um caso excepcional na história da humanidade. Aristóteles, na Crematística, a ciência da riqueza, já punha em questão a legitimidade da compra e venda dos bens indispensáveis para a sobrevivência. O que é interessante é que hoje cada vez mais pessoas tomam consciência do fato de que alguns recursos são intocáveis, porque não pertencem só aos seres humanos, mas a todos os seres vivos. E até ao conjunto dos ecossistemas inteiros.
Isto é, ao planeta na sua totalidade indivisível, na sua integridade vital que também nos compreende, enquanto nascidos da terra.
Nesse sentido, a antropologia tem uma tarefa importante, que é a de apresentar outros modelos de humanidade. Mostrar de que modo as outras civilizações enfrentaram e resolveram problemas análogos aos nossos.
Quais são as três grandes urgências do nosso tempo?
Ecologia, tecnologia e coexistência com as outras civilizações. Três questões que podem ser resumidas em uma, isto é, como fazer com que todos os ocupantes do planeta coabitem, sem muitos danos, renúncias e conflitos. E se não se chegar a isso, haverá uma catástrofe. Ambiental, demográfica e informática.
Por que informática?
Porque deveremos ser inundados por uma avalanche de informações cada vez mais incontroláveis, incongruentes, perigosas.
Também seremos inundados por montanhas de lixo digital, enfim. Mas a política lhe parece estar à altura da tarefa?
Infelizmente não. Hoje, eu vejo uma grande pusilanimidade nos políticos e nos vários G7 ou G20. Não possuem coragem e imaginação. Estão sempre atrasados com relação à realidade. Também porque subestimam o papel da cultura nas elaboração das políticas sociais e ambientais. E, frequentemente, não se vai muito além de alguns pequenos pensamentos politicamente corretos sobre a necessidade do diálogo entre as culturas. Mas não acredito nisso, verdadeiramente.
As pessoas comuns parecem acreditar nisso cada vez mais. Os movimentos que agitam o mundo neste período, que parecem fatos separados, não são talvez os sintomas de um novo sentido comum?
Sim, cada vez mais pessoas estão conscientes de que o modelo de desenvolvimento que tem governado o mundo nestes últimos dois séculos está se desfazendo. Eu diria que esses movimentos são exercícios no futuro, os primeiros passos para uma nova democracia global.
Editor’s note: As part of our new series, Second Opinion (not to be confused with the SMA’s similarly titled newsletter) we ask two contributors to review the same book, respond to the same question, or comment on the same set of issues. For our first pair of Second Opinion posts, we invited two reviews of Eduardo Kohn’s new book, How Forests Think. The second review will appear within the next few weeks.
By Eduardo Kohn
University of California Press, 2013. $29.95, £19.95; Paperback, 228 pages.
There is a long genealogy of anthropologists who have borrowed their titles from the translation of Lucien Lévy-Bruhl’s La mentalité primitive — How Natives Think. Running from Marshall Sahlins’ How “Natives” Think to Maurice Bloch’s How We Think They Think, these transformations run parallel to those of the discipline itself. By entitling his book How Forests Think, Eduardo Kohn indicates that he doesn’t study the way the people he worked with in Ecuador thought about forests, but the way forests actually think. By making a claim about the relation between life and thought, this book takes part in the ontological turn (Candea 2010) that decenters anthropologists’ longstanding focus on cultural representations to ask how representations emerge within forms of life. Following Philippe Descola and Eduardo Viveiros de Castro, Eduardo Kohn shows that Amazonian ethnography challenges our conceptions of life and thought in a way that raises the ontological question of what there is. As the ecological crisis leads to a proliferation of new entities that both blur the opposition between nature and culture and ask for political recognition – “pets, weeds, pests, commensals, new pathogens, ‘wild’ animals, or technoscientific ‘mutants,’” (9) this kind of ethnography cautiously scrutinizes the continuities and discontinuities between humans and nonhumans. The book is ethnographic in a classical sense, and yet its chapters follow a theoretical progression, while powerful images plunge into an “enchanted” world – a term Kohn takes up deliberately – entangling humans and nonhumans in puzzling ways.
The main thesis of the book is about semiosis, the life of signs. If we are troubled by the idea that forests think, it is because we conceive thinking as a conventional relation to the world. Following 19th century American philosopher Charles Saunders Peirce, Kohn argues that all signs are not conventional symbols, and that there are other ways to learn the meaning of signs than to relate them to each other in a cultural context. When a hunter describes the fall of a palm tree under the weight of a monkey as pu’oh, the meaning of this sign is felt with evidence, without knowledge of Quichua (the language spoken by Kohn’s informants), because it relates hunters, monkeys and trees in a complex ecosystem. Kohn asks for “decolonizing thought” and “provincializing language” by looking at relations between signs that are not symbolic. Hence the program of an “anthropology beyond the human” that places human symbols in the forms of life from which they emerge. Without romanticizing tropical nature, Kohn argues that most of our problems are ill-shaped, or filled with anxiety – as in a wonderful description of the bus trip that led him to Avila – if we don’t place them in a larger semiotic field.
Following Terrence Deacon’s interpretation of Peirce (2012), Kohn is less interested in the classifications of signs into indices, icons and symbols than in the process through which they emerge one from the other. A sign refers to something absent that exists in futuro, just as the crashing of the palm tree under the weight of a monkey refers to a coming danger for the monkey, and a possible catch for the hunter. Habits fix the meaning of signs by producing similarity, and are considered as “interpretants” of signs. Using the example of the walking-stick insect, Kohn argues that what appears to look similar is actually the product of a selection from beings that looked different. Signs thus refer to the past as a memory of beings who have disappeared. Since this relation to the past and future is what, for Peirce, constitutes selves, all living beings, and not only humans, can be considered as selves.
The strangeness of Kohn’s text come from the way it interlaces these theoretical analyses of signs with an account of the life of the Runa people, considered not as a cultural context but as “amplifying” certain ontological properties of life itself. “Living beings are loci of selfhood,” Kohn writes. “I make this claim empirically. It grows out of my attention to Runa relations with nonhuman beings as these reveal themselves ethnographically. These relations amplify certain properties of the world, and this amplification can infect and affect our thinking about the world,” (94). This is an original intervention in the ontological reappraisal of animism. Kohn neither contrasts animism to naturalism as two inverse ontologies in the mode of Descola, nor does he engage in the paradoxes of perspectivism like Viveiros. Instead, he considers living beings as selves in relation to past and future relations, and social life as an amplification of this process of self-formation.
Thus, puma designates both predators like jaguars and shamans who can see the way that jaguars see. Runa people need to learn how jaguars see in order not to be eaten by them. The soul, as what exceeds the limits of the body, is “an effect of intersubjective semiotic interpretance,” (107). What Kohn calls “soul blindness” is an inattention to the effects of the souls of other living beings. The problem is how to live with runa puma: jaguars who act like humans, and kill to revenge other killings, who are dreaded but also considered to be mature selves.
Dreams, analyzed in Chapter 4, are common ways of communication with souls and remediating “soul blindness.” Runa people give hallucinatory drugs to dogs so that they will dream, and their barks during dreaming are interpreted literally—in the same way as their daytime barks–while human dreams of hunting are interpreted metaphorically. Rather than doing a symbolic analysis of dreams, Kohn places them in the semiotic life they express, between humans, dogs and jaguars. Dreams are ways of communicating between species without abolishing them, constituting a “trans-species pidgin.”
In Chapter 5, Kohn makes an important distinction between form and sign. “Whereas semiosis is in and of the living world beyond the human, form emerges from and is part and parcel of the nonliving one as well,” (174). The question he asks is that of the efficacy of form, the constraint it exerts on living beings. Taking the example of the distribution of rubber trees in the Amazonian forest, which depends on the ecology of parasites as well as on the network of rivers, he argues that shamanistic hunting and the colonial extraction of rubber were both constrained by the same form. Forms have a causality that is not moral but that can be called hierarchical: signs emerge from forms, and symbols from signs, in a hierarchy between levels of emergence that cannot be inversed. This is a powerful interpretation of the insertion of colonial extraction in forms that historically precede it: if power brings with it moral categories, this insertion cannot be thought of as an imposition from above, but rather as a fall-out or an incidental movement.
Kohn links this morphodynamic analysis of colonialism to Lévi-Strauss’s analysis of “la pensée sauvage” – a form of thought emerging from relations between signs rather than being imposed upon them. Through forms and signs, Runa people have “frozen” history in such a way that they can interpret events through their dreams. The dream of Oswaldo, who saw a policeman with hair on his shirt, is ambivalent: does it mean he will be caught by the white man, or that he will be successful in hunting peccaries? The final chapter of the book analyses the reversals in relation between the Runa and White missionaries or policemen, as well as the pronouns by which Runa people refer to themselves as subjects, such as amu. “Amu is a particular colonially inflected way of being a self in an ecology of selves filled with a growing array of future-making habits, many of which are not human. In the process, amu renders visible how a living future gives life some of its special properties and how this involves a dynamic that implicates (but is not reducible to) the past. In doing so, amu, and the spirit realm upon which it draws its power, amplifies something general about life—namely, life’s quality of being in futuro,” (208). The question for Runa people is how they can access the realm of the White masters, that is also the heaven of saints: what is generally called the “super-natural.” To live is to survive, Kohn argues, that is to live beyond life, in the many absences that constitute life as a semiotic process.
The strength of this book is to propose a rigorous demonstration while never leaving empirical analysis. Starting on the level of signs in their triadic mode of existence, Kohn finds form on one side and history on the other, and describes their constraints and ambivalent relationships. This is not a dualism between nature and culture that would be solved through the concept of life – and Kohn tries to avoid an all-encompassing anthropology of life – but a logical tension that is amplified by humans, almost in the way that genetic material is amplified inside and outside the laboratory (Rabinow 1996). Kohn’s anthropology “beyond the human” – but not of the “post-human” – grounds itself in the life of signs where humans emerge to amplify them. The ambition of this ontological claim, its clarity and its theoretical productivity will not doubt be amplified by other ethnographic inquiries on life.
Frédéric Keck is a researcher at the Laboratoire d’anthropologie sociale (CNRS) in Paris. He has published works on the history of philosophy and social anthropology in France (Comte, Lévy-Bruhl, Lévi-Strauss) and translated Paul Rabinow’s French DNA into French. He now works on the management of animal diseases transmitted to humans, or zoonoses (Un monde grippé, Flammarion, 2010, Des hommes malades des animaux, L’Herne, 2012)
Candea, Matei (2010) Debate: Ontology Is Just Another Word for Culture.Critique of Anthropology 30 (2): 172-179
Deacon, Terrence (2012) Incomplete Nature: How Mind Emerged from Matter. New York: Norton.
Descola, Philippe (2005) Par-delà nature et culture. Paris: Gallimard.
Viveiros de Castro, Eduardo (1998) Cosmological Deixis and Amerindian Perspectivism. Journal of the Royal Anthropological Institute, n.s., 4, 469-488.
Rabinow, Paul (1996) Making PCR, A Story of Biotechnology. Chicago: University of Chicago Press.
June 5, 2013 — Many think of social networks in terms of Facebook friends and Twitter followers, but for recent University of Georgia doctoral graduate Julie Rushmore, social networks are tools in the fight against infectious diseases.
Rushmore, who completed her doctorate in the Odum School of Ecology in May, analyzed the social networks of wild chimpanzees to determine which individuals were most likely to contract and spread pathogens. Her findings, published in the Journal of Animal Ecology on June 5, could help wildlife managers target their efforts to prevent outbreaks and potentially help public health officials prevent disease in human populations as well.
Effective disease intervention for this species is important for a number of reasons. Wild chimpanzees are highly endangered, and diseases — including some that also infect humans — are among the most serious threats to their survival. And due to habitat loss, chimpanzees increasingly overlap with human populations, so disease outbreaks could spread to people and livestock, and vice versa.
Disease prevention in wildlife is logistically challenging, and resources are scarce, Rushmore explained. Even when vaccines are available, it is impractical to vaccinate every individual in a wildlife population. She and her colleagues decided to use social network analysis to pinpoint individuals most important in disease transmission.
“Modeling studies in humans have shown that targeting central individuals for vaccination is significantly more effective than randomly vaccinating,” Rushmore said. “There have been a few social network studies in wildlife systems — bees, lions, meerkats, lizards and giraffes — but this is the first paper to map out social networks in the context of disease transmission and conservation for wild primates.”
Rushmore observed a community of wild chimpanzees in Kibale National Park in Uganda, recording the interactions of individuals and family groups over a nine-month period to determine which individuals — and which types of individuals — were most central.
“Chimpanzees are ideal for this study because to collect this observational behavioral data, you don’t need to collar them or use any invasive methods. You can essentially just observe chimpanzees in their natural environment and identify them individually based on their facial features,” she said.
Rushmore collected information about the traits of individual chimpanzees including age, sex, rank and family size. Rank for adult males was based on dominance, while for adult females and juveniles it was based on location: Those that lived and foraged in the interior of the community’s territory were considered of higher rank than those that roamed its edges.
From December 2009 to August 2010, Rushmore recorded the interactions of chimpanzees in the community at 15-minute intervals between 6 a.m. and 7:30 p.m., four to six days per week. She mapped her observations onto a diagram showing how often each individual associated with the others.
This analysis revealed that the most central figures in the network turned out to be high-ranking mothers and juveniles with large families. “They form nursing parties — essentially like day care — where several families will hang out together,” she said. “In that way they become quite central because they have contact with a large portion of the community.”
Second in centrality were the high-ranking males.
“There are many studies in humans, and at least one in chimpanzees, showing that from an immunological perspective, juveniles and children are really important for maintaining diseases in populations through play and things like that,” she said.
“In addition, high-ranking male chimpanzees are often immunosuppressed because they have high levels of testosterone and have been shown to have higher rates of parasitism. So it seems that in addition to being central to the network, the juveniles and the high-ranking males in particular could also have lower immunity than other individuals, which might help facilitate them acquiring and transmitting pathogens.”
Rushmore’s findings have implications for disease prevention beyond chimpanzees.
“This work can easily be applied to other systems,” she said. “You could use similar methods to identify which traits are predictive of centrality. The theme that would carry over from our findings is that these central individuals are likely important to target for vaccination or treatment.”
Rushmore and her colleagues are continuing their research into social networks and disease. They currently are using infectious disease models to simulate outbreaks on these networks and to develop targeted pathogen interventions.
“Ultimately, we want to develop vaccination strategies that could both prevent large outbreaks and lower the number of animals requiring vaccination,” Rushmore said.
The study’s co-authors were Damien Caillaud of the Dian Fossey Gorilla Fund International and the University of Texas at Austin, Leopold Matamba of the UGA department of mathematics, Rebecca M. Stumpf of the University of Illinois at Urbana-Champaign, Stephen P. Borgatti of the University of Kentucky and Sonia Altizer of the UGA Odum School of Ecology.
- Julie Rushmore, Damien Caillaud, Leopold Matamba, Rebecca M. Stumpf, Stephen P. Borgatti, Sonia Altizer.Social network analysis of wild chimpanzees provides insights for predicting infectious disease risk. Journal of Animal Ecology, 2013; DOI: 10.1111/1365-2656.12088
Mar. 13, 2013 — Alice Auersperg from the Department of Cognitive Biology from the University of Vienna and her team has for the first time succeeded in observing self-control in cockatoos.
The results of this research project appear in the current issue of the journal Biology Letters.
Waiting: a clever move
In the 1970’s, self-control of human infants was investigated using the prominent ‘Stanford Marshmallow Experiment’: the children were presented with a marshmallow and were told they could either eat it now or wait and receive a second one if the first one was still intact after a time delay of several minutes. Interestingly, children that were able to wait for the delayed reward showed greater success in adult life than the ones that ate the first marshmallow right away.
The ability to anticipate a delayed gain is considered cognitively challenging since it requires not only the capacity to control an direct impulse but also to assess the gain’s beneficial value relative to the costs associated with having to wait as well as the reliability of the trader. Such abilities can be considered precursors of economic decision making and are rarely found outside humans. Only few, typically large-brained animals, have been shown to be able to inhibit the consumption of an immediate food reward in anticipation for a bigger one for more than one minute.
Speculative trading of the Goffin cockatoos
A new study at the University of Vienna, on an Indonesian cockatoo species — the Goffin’s cockatoo — showed notable results. “The animals were allowed to pick up an initial food item and given the opportunity to return it directly into the experimenter’s hand after an increasing time delay. If the initial food item had not been nibbled by this time, the bird received another reward of an even higher preferred food type or of a larger quantity than the initial food in exchange” explains Isabelle Laumer, who conducted the study at the Goffin Lab at the University of Vienna. “Although we picked pecan nuts as initial reward which were highly liked by the birds and would under normal circumstances be consumed straight away, we found that all 14 of birds waited for food of higher quality, such as cashew nut for up to 80 seconds,” she further reports.
Evolution of self-control
Alice Auersperg, the manager of the Vienna Goffin Lab says: “When exchanging for better qualities, the Goffins acted astonishingly like economic agents, flexibly trading-off between immediate and future benefits. They did so, relative not only to the length of delay, but also to the difference in trade value between the ‘currency’ and the ‘merchandise’: they tended to trade their initial items more often for their most preferred food, than for one of intermediate preference value and did not exchange in a control test in which the value of the initial item was higher than that of the expected one.” She adds: “While human infants or primates can hold the initial food in their hands, one should also consider that the birds were able to wait, although they had to hold the food in their beaks, directly against their taste organs while waiting. Imagine placing a cookie directly into a toddler’s mouth and telling him/her, he/she will only receive a piece of chocolate if the cookie is not nibbled for over a minute.”
Thomas Bugnyar, who previously conducted similar studies on ravens and crows, says, “Until recently, birds were considered to lack any self-control. When we found that corvids could wait for delayed food, we speculated which socio-ecological conditions could favor the evolution of such skills. To test our ideas we needed clever birds that are distantly related to corvids. Parrots were the obvious choice and the results on Goffins show that we are on the right track.”
- A. M. I. Auersperg, I. B. Laumer, T. Bugnyar. Goffin cockatoos wait for qualitative and quantitative gains but prefer ‘better’ to ‘more’. Biology Letters, 2013; 9 (3): 20121092 DOI: 10.1098/rsbl.2012.1092
Feb. 1, 2013 — We’ve all heard examples of animal altruism: Dogs caring for orphaned kittens, chimps sharing food or dolphins nudging injured mates to the surface. Now, a study led by the University of Colorado Boulder suggests some plants are altruistic too.
The researchers looked at corn, in which each fertilized seed contained two “siblings” — an embryo and a corresponding bit of tissue known as endosperm that feeds the embryo as the seed grows, said CU-Boulder Professor Pamela Diggle. They compared the growth and behavior of the embryos and endosperm in seeds sharing the same mother and father with the growth and behavior of embryos and endosperm that had genetically different parents.
“The results indicated embryos with the same mother and father as the endosperm in their seed weighed significantly more than embryos with the same mother but a different father,” said Diggle, a faculty member in CU-Boulder’s ecology and evolutionary biology department. “We found that endosperm that does not share the same father as the embryo does not hand over as much food — it appears to be acting less cooperatively.”
A paper on the subject was published during the week of Jan. 21 in the Proceedings of the National Academy of Sciences. Co-authors on the study included Chi-Chih Wu, a CU-Boulder doctoral student in the ecology and evolutionary biology department and Professor William “Ned” Friedman, a professor at Harvard University who helped conduct research on the project while a faculty member at CU-Boulder.
Diggle said it is fairly clear from previous research that plants can preferentially withhold nutrients from inferior offspring when resources are limited. “Our study is the first to specifically test the idea of cooperation among siblings in plants.”
“One of the most fundamental laws of nature is that if you are going to be an altruist, give it up to your closest relatives,” said Friedman. “Altruism only evolves if the benefactor is a close relative of the beneficiary. When the endosperm gives all of its food to the embryo and then dies, it doesn’t get more altruistic than that.”
In corn reproduction, male flowers at the top of the plants distribute pollen grains two at a time through individual tubes to tiny cobs on the stalks covered by strands known as silks in a process known as double fertilization. When the two pollen grains come in contact with an individual silk, they produce a seed containing an embryo and endosperm. Each embryo results in just a single kernel of corn, said Diggle.
The team took advantage of an extremely rare phenomenon in plants called “hetero-fertilization,” in which two different fathers sire individual corn kernels, said Diggle, currently a visiting professor at Harvard. The manipulation of corn plant genes that has been going on for millennia — resulting in the production of multicolored “Indian corn” cobs of various colors like red, purple, blue and yellow — helped the researchers in assessing the parentage of the kernels, she said.
Wu, who cultivated the corn and harvested more than 100 ears over a three-year period, removed, mapped and weighed every individual kernel out of each cob from the harvests. While the majority of kernels had an endosperm and embryo of the same color — an indication they shared the same mother and father — some had different colors for each, such as a purple outer kernel with yellow embryo.
Wu was searching for such rare kernels — far less than one in 100 — that had two different fathers as a way to assess cooperation between the embryo and endosperm. “It was very challenging and time-consuming research,” said Friedman. “It was like looking for a needle in a haystack, or in this case, a kernel in a silo.”
Endosperm — in the form of corn, rice, wheat and other crops — is critical to humans, providing about 70 percent of calories we consume annually worldwide. “The tissue in the seeds of flowering plants is what feeds the world,” said Friedman, who also directs the Arnold Arboretum at Harvard. “If flowering plants weren’t here, humans wouldn’t be here.”
- K. Baruch, N. Ron-Harel, H. Gal, A. Deczkowska, E. Shifrut, W. Ndifon, N. Mirlas-Neisberg, M. Cardon, I. Vaknin, L. Cahalon, T. Berkutzki, M. P. Mattson, F. Gomez-Pinilla, N. Friedman, M. Schwartz. CNS-specific immunity at the choroid plexus shifts toward destructive Th2 inflammation in brain aging.Proceedings of the National Academy of Sciences, 2013; DOI: 10.1073/pnas.1211270110
23/11/2012 às 00h00
Por Joselia Aguiar | Para o Valor, de São Paulo
A obra podia entrar na prateleira reservada aos livros fofos, se tal existisse. O que existe, de verdade, é a chance de parar na lista de best-sellers como um “Marley & Eu” à brasileira. “Confesso minha ignorância: não sei que livro é esse, ‘Marley & Eu'”, responde o ficcionista novato Bruno Negri sobre uma possível influência ao escrever “Me chamo Lully”, seu relato de uma vidinha de cachorro que chega agora às livrarias – o lançamento, pela Book Makers, será no dia 5, na Livraria Argumento, no Leblon, no Rio. Vai ter jazz, MPB e coquetel para gente e bichos.
A ignorância confessada, que seria fatal em alguém que pretendesse fazer sucesso no metier dos livros comerciais – afinal, “Marley & Eu” foi lido por milhões no mundo inteiro -, pode ser vista como um divertido alheamento intencional ou uma saudável distância técnica, quando se conhece enfim a identidade de quem está disfarçado pelo pseudônimo. Bruno Negri é Luiz Costa Lima, de 75 anos, um dos críticos literários mais importantes do país, há quatro décadas em atividade, mais de 20 títulos publicados, obra premiada aqui e no exterior.
De parecido com o livro do jornalista americano John Grogan, que narrou as peripécias de seu Marley, há, além do tema, uma capa com seu apelo emotivo: em close, um cãozinho se apresenta com olhar sedutor. Aí param as semelhanças. A grande diferença se configura pelo ponto de vista. Marley teve a história contada por Grogan, seu dono. Lully, ao contrário, é autora da própria história. Pois um laboratório nos Estados Unidos desenvolveu equipamento ainda em fase de testes que captura o pensamento de animais e o decodifica em linguagem de humanos. Aparentemente, só com alguns o experimento parece funcionar, com outros o resultado não é o mesmo. Com Lully, cachorra filósofa, funciona. Não com Benjy, seu filho e companheiro, incapaz da concentração necessária, muito menos raciocínio organizado para ter o pensamento capturado ou decodificado. Benjy é, por assim dizer, um cão atávico – uma de suas raras preocupações é impedir que Lully brinque com uma bolinha, enquanto ele mesmo não parece saber o motivo de cultivar tal hábito, já que nunca aproveita o objeto furtado.
O grau de autoconsciência de Lully é evidente desde o título, retirado da primeira frase que diz à máquina, “Me chamo”, e não “Me chamam”. Lully sobretudo compreende que os fios que a conectam da cabeça ao computador transmitem seu “auês”, a língua que domina. A seu jeito canino – filosófico, mas ainda canino -, ela narra dos primeiros dias no canil até os oito anos na casa de Pedro, Joana e o filho, Dani. Lully pensa não só sobre as coisas que observa como também as coisas que sente: medo, um tipo de afeição que não sabe dar nome (seria amor? paixão? decerto não é cio), a maternidade e a finitude. O que ela nunca consegue compreender é a passagem do tempo – o que são mesmo os dias, semanas, passado e futuro – e a divisão de classe social – o que se nota pela dificuldade de entender o que é uma princesa, título que lhe atribuem, e o que são os mendigos catadores no pós-Carnaval do Rio.
Cachorrinha que inspirou o crítico é “faceira e sedutora como uma teenager”, apesar de já ter oito anos; sugestão para livro foi da mulher dele
As perguntas ao crítico se encaminham com a devida vênia. Das fábulas de La Fontaine às de Orwell, os livros protagonizados por bichos, o “Flush” de Virginia Woolf ou o “Timbuktu” de Paul Auster, o que um crítico conhecido pelo rigor e exigência pensou em fazer ao publicar um livro fofo? Algum experimento? “Não pensei em coisa alguma, senão em dar alguma verossimilhança à história que queria fosse de minha querida Lully.”
Eis que Lully existe mesmo. É a shitzu de oito anos da família. “Não pense que é brincadeira ou fingimento. Embora saiba de ficções sobre animais de estimação, nunca li nenhuma delas”, prossegue Costa Lima. “Só lhe garanto que não quis brincar com Lully. Ela nos é muito querida para sujeitá-la a uma brincadeira. Seria explorar sua admirável ingenuidade canina.”
O campo dos estudos animais, da animalidade, dos limites do humano tem crescido nas universidades: trata-se de área multidisciplinar, que combina filosofia, literatura, ciências sociais. Uma nova pergunta quer identificar se houve, da parte do professor emérito da PUC-SP, uma tentativa de se aproximar desse tipo de reflexão a partir da própria experiência. “Sei disso, de livros escritos há décadas por Günter Lorenz. Mas lhe confesso que nunca li nada a respeito.” O processo da escrita? A resposta não dá mais margem para teorizações previsíveis: “Simplesmente não houve”.
A sugestão veio da mulher, a psicanalista Rebeca Schwartz. Então ele se sentou à mesa e, como diz, escreveu como sempre faz: primeiro à mão, depois no computador. “Creio que as emendas foram mínimas. Era como se a história estivesse amadurecida dentro de mim.” De que modo o crítico agiu no escritor, desmontando e remontando a maquinaria ficcional? “Alguém já disse que a crítica que se limite a ser o julgamento de um livro é algo bastante chato. O crítico seria uma espécie semelhante aos juízes do nosso STF que têm seu instante de glória à custa do que outros fizeram”, pondera. Temos algo diferente, portanto. “Embora a crítica não seja e não deva ser ficção, ela só presta quando traz consigo um ‘impulso ficcional’. No “Me chamo Lully”, a máquina ficcional pôde se mostrar explicitamente, sem disfarces ou transformações.”
É aqui, leitor, nessa parte da conversa, que você se lembra que o tal aparelho recém-inventado nos Estados Unidos, aquele que captura e decodifica as reflexões filosófico-caninas de Lully, é pura ficção. Não por outra, críticos costumam ser vistos pelos leitores como “desmancha-prazeres”, como nota Costa Lima. As engrenagens se expõem para quem quiser ver.
A perspectiva de atrair um leitor quase oposto ao seu parece animadora, horrorosa ou engraçada? “Alguns por certo me dizem que o livro atrairá muitos leitores, algo bem diferente do que conheço com meus livros de teoria e crítica literária. Se isso se der, ficarei muito contente. Em vez de engraçada, a hipótese me parece surpreendente. Mas não creio que seja possível.”
Lully tem longuíssimos pelos lisos – por sua pelagem, a raça é identificada no nome original em chinês como o “cão leão” -, é pequenina – a espécie nunca ultrapassa os 25 cm – e, na descrição de seu dono, “faceira e sedutora como uma teenager”, apesar dos oito anos, idade da maturidade em sua categoria. “Melhor, mais do que a maioria das que vejo frequentar a PUC.”
Benjy, que também existe, tem no livro um nome falso. O verdadeiro é Billy. O cão é “meio bobão, manhoso e longe do charme de Lully”, descreve-o o dono bastante crítico (a palavra “crítico” no sentido comezinho), para mais à frente reconhecer a possibilidade de ter sido injusto no relato que faz do cão macho por uma inconsciente competição pela fêmea.
Se escrever o primeiro manuscrito lhe custou duas horas, foi só depois da leitura de Rebeca, mais minuciosa e atenta aos acréscimos, que vicissitudes da vidinha de cachorro puderam ser registradas – desde a ração antialergênica às bolinhas homeopáticas – e muitos episódios, recordados com exatidão, do treinamento avançado de artes marciais para cachorro às crises de pânico de Billy ao entrar num carro, o que fez o casal ter de se desfazer de uma casa de praia. Quase tudo o que é contado Lully de fato viveu, à exceção de um sequestro, este completamente fictício. E há mais uma coisa ou outra recriada. “A cena da paixão pelo vira-lata tem um fundo de verdade, mas é um tanto estilizada”, diz Costa Lima. De fato, esta já dava para notar.
Resta saber por que escolheu o nome de Bruno Negri. “Eu mesmo não sei!”, diz. “Talvez porque de imediato pensei o título como ‘Me Chiamo Lully’. Sei apenas que tanto Bruno como Negri pretendiam acentuar, direta ou indiretamente, a cor da ‘autobiografada’: branca com manchas negras. Mas, no fundo, o nome não tem maiores razões.” Existe razão, essa sim, para adotar um pseudônimo, como explica: “Temia que o nome do crítico prejudicasse a circulação do livro”.
A trajetória de crítico não se interrompe. Meses atrás, saiu o recente “A Ficção e o Poema”, pela Companhia das Letras, desdobramento de dois anteriores, “História. Ficção. Literatura” e “O Controle do Imaginário e o Romance”. Costa Lima conclui agora um novo volume, que se chamará “Frestas” e deve sair apenas em 2014. Outra notícia recente vem de fora: um dos seus livros clássicos, “Mímesis: Desafio ao Pensamento”, acaba de ter tradução para o mercado de língua alemã. E para Bruno Negri, há futuro literário? John Grogan fez vários na linha do “Marley & Eu”. “Não, não creio. Pode parecer louco. Mas tenho muitos projetos de livros longos e trabalhosos. ‘Me Chamo Lully’ foi um felicíssimo acidente. Ainda que não fosse difícil continuar a aventura ficcional, suponho que minha opção de vida é outra.”
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ScienceDaily (Aug. 30, 2012) — Reliance on supernatural explanations for major life events, such as death and illness, often increases rather than declines with age, according to a new psychology study from The University of Texas at Austin.
The study, published in the June issue of Child Development, offers new insight into developmental learning.
“As children assimilate cultural concepts into their intuitive belief systems — from God to atoms to evolution — they engage in coexistence thinking,” said Cristine Legare, assistant professor of psychology and lead author of the study. “When they merge supernatural and scientific explanations, they integrate them in a variety of predictable and universal ways.”
Legare and her colleagues reviewed more than 30 studies on how people (ages 5-75) from various countries reason with three major existential questions: the origin of life, illness and death. They also conducted a study with 366 respondents in South Africa, where biomedical and traditional healing practices are both widely available.
As part of the study, Legare presented the respondents with a variety of stories about people who had AIDS. They were then asked to endorse or reject several biological and supernatural explanations for why the characters in the stories contracted the virus.
According to the findings, participants of all age groups agreed with biological explanations for at least one event. Yet supernatural explanations such as witchcraft were also frequently supported among children (ages 5 and up) and universally among adults.
Among the adult participants, only 26 percent believed the illness could be caused by either biology or witchcraft. And 38 percent split biological and scientific explanations into one theory. For example: “Witchcraft, which is mixed with evil spirits, and unprotected sex caused AIDS.” However, 57 percent combined both witchcraft and biological explanations. For example: “A witch can put an HIV-infected person in your path.”
Legare said the findings contradict the common assumption that supernatural beliefs dissipate with age and knowledge.
“The findings show supernatural explanations for topics of core concern to humans are pervasive across cultures,” Legare said. “If anything, in both industrialized and developing countries, supernatural explanations are frequently endorsed more often among adults than younger children.”
The results provide evidence that reasoning about supernatural phenomena is a fundamental and enduring aspect of human thinking, Legare said.
“The standard assumption that scientific and religious explanations compete should be re-evaluated in light of substantial psychological evidence,” Legare said. “The data, which spans diverse cultural contexts across the lifespan, shows supernatural reasoning is not necessarily replaced with scientific explanations following gains in knowledge, education or technology.”
- Cristine H. Legare, E. Margaret Evans, Karl S. Rosengren, Paul L. Harris. The Coexistence of Natural and Supernatural Explanations Across Cultures and Development. Child Development, 2012; 83 (3): 779 DOI:10.1111/j.1467-8624.2012.01743.x
On this day of July 7, 2012, a prominent international group of cognitive neuroscientists, neuropharmacologists, neurophysiologists, neuroanatomists and computational neuroscientists gathered at The University of Cambridge to reassess the neurobiological substrates of conscious experience and related behaviors in human and non-human animals. While comparative research on this topic is naturally hampered by the inability of non-human animals, and often humans, to clearly and readily communicate about their internal states, the following observations can be stated unequivocally:
The field of Consciousness research is rapidly evolving. Abundant new techniques and strategies for human and non-human animal research have been developed. Consequently, more data is becoming readily available, and this calls for a periodic reevaluation of previously held preconceptions in this field. Studies of non-human animals have shown that homologous brain circuits correlated with conscious experience and perception can be selectively facilitated and disrupted to assess whether they are in fact necessary for those experiences. Moreover, in humans, new non-invasive techniques are readily available to survey the correlates of consciousness.
The neural substrates of emotions do not appear to be confined to cortical structures. In fact, subcortical neural networks aroused during affective states in humans are also critically important for generating emotional behaviors in animals. Artificial arousal of the same brain regions generates corresponding behavior and feeling states in both humans and non-human animals. Wherever in the brain one evokes instinctual emotional behaviors in non-human animals, many of the ensuing behaviors are consistent with experienced feeling states, including those internal states that are rewarding and punishing. Deep brain stimulation of these systems in humans can also generate similar affective states. Systems associated with affect are concentrated in subcortical regions where neural homologies abound. Young human and nonhuman animals without neocortices retain these brain-mind functions. Furthermore, neural circuits supporting behavioral/electrophysiological states of attentiveness, sleep and decision making appear to have arisen in evolution as early as the invertebrate radiation, being evident in insects and cephalopod mollusks (e.g., octopus).
Birds appear to offer, in their behavior, neurophysiology, and neuroanatomy a striking case of parallel evolution of consciousness. Evidence of near human-like levels of consciousness has been most dramatically observed in African grey parrots. Mammalian and avian emotional networks and cognitive microcircuitries appear to be far more homologous than previously thought. Moreover, certain species of birds have been found to exhibit neural sleep patterns similar to those of mammals, including REM sleep and, as was demonstrated in zebra finches, neurophysiological patterns, previously thought to require a mammalian neocortex. Magpies in particular have been shown to exhibit striking similarities to humans, great apes, dolphins, and elephants in studies of mirror self-recognition.
In humans, the effect of certain hallucinogens appears to be associated with a disruption in cortical feedforward and feedback processing. Pharmacological interventions in non-human animals with compounds known to affect conscious behavior in humans can lead to similar perturbations in behavior in non-human animals. In humans, there is evidence to suggest that awareness is correlated with cortical activity, which does not exclude possible contributions by subcortical or early cortical processing, as in visual awareness. Evidence that human and nonhuman animal emotional feelings arise from homologous subcortical brain networks provide compelling evidence for evolutionarily shared primal affective qualia.
We declare the following: “The absence of a neocortex does not appear to preclude an organism from experiencing affective states. Convergent evidence indicates that non-human animals have the neuroanatomical, neurochemical, and neurophysiological substrates of conscious states along with the capacity to exhibit intentional behaviors. Consequently, the weight of evidence indicates that humans are not unique in possessing the neurological substrates that generate consciousness. Nonhuman animals, including all mammals and birds, and many other creatures, including octopuses, also possess these neurological substrates.”
* The Cambridge Declaration on Consciousness was written by Philip Low and edited by Jaak Panksepp, Diana Reiss, David Edelman, Bruno Van Swinderen, Philip Low and Christof Koch. The Declaration was publicly proclaimed in Cambridge, UK, on July 7, 2012, at the Francis Crick Memorial Conference on Consciousness in Human and non-Human Animals, at Churchill College, University of Cambridge, by Low, Edelman and Koch. The Declaration was signed by the conference participants that very evening, in the presence of Stephen Hawking, in the Balfour Room at the Hotel du Vin in Cambridge, UK. The signing ceremony was memorialized by CBS 60 Minutes.
Um mestre do “mainstream” também entrou em terreno fantástico.
Nelson Rodrigues, de quem se comemora o centenário em 2012, não foi apenas um dramaturgo e contista, mas também produziu crônica esportiva. Por muito tempo manteve uma coluna no jornal carioca “O Globo” — e naquele tempo este diário, hoje decadente, possuia bons colunistas — que mudava de nome, mas o seu titulo principal era “À sombra das chuteiras imortais” (outros títulos usados foram “A batalha” e “Os bandeirinhas também são anjos”).
Nelson tinha um estilo sui-generis e, a rigor, reconhecível facilmente, mesmo se ele não assinasse. Fluminense doente, era descaradamente parcial nas suas crônicas. E eu, que torcia pelo Fluminense, as lia comprazer.
Detalhe interessante é que Nelson, na maior cara-de-pau, gostava de “profetizar” a vitória do Flu no então campeonato carioca. O futebol, naquele tempo, era muito regional. E, claro, a profecia dava certo quando o clube ganhava o campeonato.
Certo ano, durante o que parecia ser uma maré de azar, Nelson escreveu que o sobrenatural estava perseguindo o Fluminense. Dias depois o cronista publicou uma “carta” que teria recebido, e que diria mais ou menos assim: “No dia tal o senhor disse que o sobrenatural está perseguindo o Fluminense. Ora, o Sobrenatural sou eu, e garanto que isso não é verdade etc.” O “personagem” encerrava a missiva garantindo que no próximo jogo o tricolor ganharia, e assinava: “Sobrenatural de Almeida”.
Veio o domingo e o Fluminense perdeu. Revoltado, Nelson acusou o Sobrenatural de Almeida de haver mentido descaradamente. Aí começava a guerra da torcida do Fluminense, chefiada por Nelson Rodrigues, contra o sinistro Sobrenatural de Almeida.
Pode parecer estranho hoje em dia, para quem não conheceu o carisma do cronista e dramaturgo falecido em 1980, mas o caso é que o Sobrenatural de Almeida foi, durante algum tempo, verdadeira coqueluche na cidade. Os repórteres esportivos falavam nele. Certo jogo foi acompanhado de forte ventania, que chegou a desviar a bola que ia para o gol. “É o Sobrenatural de Almeida!”, gritou o locutor da rádio.
Veio um novo jogo e o Fluminense venceu. Nelson comemorou a vitória contra o inimigo, que teria se retirado melancolicamente do Maracanã. Depois, porém, por motivos que hoje me escapam, o campeonato foi suspenso por algum tempo. Nelson Rodrigues então “recebeu” um telefonema do Sobrenatural de Almeida, assumindo ser o responsável pela interrupção do campeonato.
Com o tempo o colunista foi dando maiores informações sobre a misteriosa figura, que nas caricaturas aparecia com uma roupa preta, tão “assustador” como o Zé do Caixão. Segundo Nelson, o Sobrenatural tivera os seus tempos de glória mas agora, coitado, morava em Irajá e viajava nos trens da Central. Por isso até chegava atrasado ao Maracanã, e só então começava a interferir.
Essa febre do Sobrenatural de Almeida durou semanas, meses, mas acabou saturando e o Nelson terminou parando de falar nele. Mas, de certa forma, foi uma contribuição do jornalista para a nossa literatura fantástica.