Primer on Genes, Language, and Culture

Of National Identity

Making a complex world simpler

When we are young it is often difficult to separate ourselves from our nationality, because so much of who we are we share with others who have been taught the same. We learn how to talk, dress, think, and behave by a variety of different people who talk, dress, think, and behave similarly. Our teachers are more often than not people who have spent their entire lives in the same country in which we are born. Our parents' overseas experience is often little more than brief vacation trips to exotic international hotels, information acquired from the evening news, seen and heard on travelogues, or read about in popular novels, history books, and travel magazines. Even if our parents and teachers have lived overseas for long periods, it was likely on business or when they were in school. In the first instance they were likely preoccupied with making a living and had little time to learn the language and culture of those with whom they did business; in the latter they were likely too young to see beneath the superficial differences to which they were exposed. In short, most of our childhood mentors are only aware of national differences, but very few of them have ever truly experienced them. Moreover, when we are young, we are taught about the world in bits and pieces, and most of what we are taught comes to us in carefully wrapped packages of information designed to make learning as simple and understandable as possible. In other words things which are very different from our own culture are either ignored, or told to us in a way which makes them seem remote, strange, exotic, or even dangerous. The world is simply too vast and complex for it to be in any other way, unless of course we grow up in an international community, but this is the exception to the rule ­ not the norm.

One of the ways in which we simplify the world around us is to teach it as if it were the same for everyone. By believing that all people are confronted, or in the case of our teachers has been confronted, with the same set of problems, we can be confident that everyone has to do the same and at least someone has been through it all before. This first reassurance has the advantage of satisfying our fundamental sense of fair play, and the second leads us to believe that the pain which we must endure as we grow up will be amply rewarded in the end. After all, who could endure all of the training which we receive, if there were no rewards for having done so? Thus, most of us are born into, what we believe to be a just world full of promise. It is a great way to start, but it is often built on a well-honed set of untruths, some of which most of us believe until the day we die.

Outside of this carefully constructed, nurturing environment the accumulation of knowledge is often random and arbitrary; nevertheless, it is not performed in a logical vacuum. Indeed, the brain must be orderly in order for it to function properly, and logic is one of the tools which the brain uses to establish mental order. Accordingly, new knowledge is often logically constructed on top of old knowledge, and the former is difficult to acquire if the latter is not firmly implanted. In the end new knowledge can be rejected, if it does not easily fit on top of the old.

In those cases where new knowledge must be acquired, but is not compatible with that which is already known, it is either set aside in our brains as an area separate and unto itself, or the old knowledge must be thoroughly overhauled before the new knowledge can be received. Obviously, it is much easier to reject, or separate than to overhaul, and this is what most of us end up doing. Thus, the way we think about the world is largely determined very early in our lives, and this knowledge is largely very non-international in character. Of course, everyone is not the same; some children are brought up in very international environments, and some countries are much more conducive to international training than others.

Learning and teaching culture

That children often share similar values, and that these values are often those of their parents, is not coincidence. Moreover, children tend to share behavioral patterns which mirror those of other children and their parents. None of these values and codes of behavior are genetically inherited and most of them require some sort of suffering to acquire. Even smiling is something which has to be taught, but is easy to perform and thus readily becomes acquired behavior. Eating with utensils, be they made of wood or metal, requires much more effort.

Although the human mind is capable of ordering one's perceptions of the world on its own, the general contours of that perception are generally acquired through active participation in the world including imitation, experimentation, and training. When the models which we imitate are set before us, and the training which we receive is imposed upon us, what we learn is not by accident. Sometimes this training comes to us gently, like a frequently heard phrase or whisper, sometimes seductively through a reward system carefully designed to attract and hold our attention, and sometimes with brute force or verbal attacks when we are punished for doing something which we are told that we should not. In any case it is knowledge with which we are compelled to deal and which is soon internalized so that we can return to experimentation, discovery, and adventure -- those aspects of the human intellect and psyche to which we are all innately prone, but which can be driven from us through intimidation and punishment. Of course, if the models which are put before us are interesting and the punishments which we receive properly rewarded, then they become an important part of our conscious awareness, and we nourish them and exact them upon others as proper behavior. Is this not the essence of language? Notwithstanding, it would be a grave mistake to think that the child does not play an active role in his own education.

No matter the source or method by which we acquire knowledge, much of what we learn becomes so much a part of us that we forget how we acquired it. As a result, it is often difficult for us to teach it to others, and we must make a conscious effort to figure out ways to impart it to them. It is at this time, when we begin asking ourselves was it really important that we learned it, and what purpose would it serve to teach it to someone else. Indeed, that which we have perceived for so long to be part of our natural selves is suddenly put into question, and we must actively decide whether to perpetuate it, or simply ignore it. Our effort and the effort of those whom we teach is precious, and no one wants to spend his time learning to do or think about something, which is no longer useful or pleasurable to perform. In like, but opposite manner, few people want to spend additional time and effort determining the real worth of knowledge which they have already spent so energy in acquiring. As a result much of what we learn is simply passed from generation to generation with little thought. Indeed, teaching and learning are often pleasurable ends in and of themselves. Not only do they build rapport between the teacher and student, parent and child, or boss and trainee, but they also form a secure bond from which both sides can derive future benefit. At least until both sides or either side, is placed into a situation, where the knowledge which has been transferred is clearly shown to be no longer useful.

If it is the student, who discovers the disutility of his new knowledge, then the relationship between his teacher and him will be cast in doubt, and the teacher will find it difficult to impart more knowledge to his student when he feels that it is necessary. If it is the teacher, who makes the discovery, then often nothing is said, for fear on his part that he will lose his student's confidence in him. If both sides discover together that the newly acquired knowledge is no longer useful, then it will either become ornamental and maintained as a pleasurable memory of the learning experience, or simply forgotten. Much of tradition and custom form a part of this type of knowledge.

Crucial, but arbitrary knowledge

A huge body of knowledge is passed from generation to generation in the home, school, and work place, whose primary worth is the bonding, which it implies between younger and older members of the same group on the one hand, and the bonding among peers, who have struggled separately or together to either acquire on the other. Of course, the justification which we most often employ for the conveyance of this information is none other than the maintenance of the social bonds which form the basis for other knowledge far less group oriented in nature. Such bonding is crucial, because without it the group would degenerate into chaos. Under such circumstances individual members of the group are compelled to enter other groups, or regroup among themselves.

Of course, joining a new group requires that one repeat the entire learning process again, but without the advantages of having been introduced into the group at the outset and not already exposed to another body of different knowledge, whose only applicable relevance was to the group in which we acquired it. It is this "group knowledge" which forms the basis for our ethnic and national identities.

In short, the "group knowledge" is based on acquired, largely arbitrary knowledge which requires significant time and effort to acquire, and is only truly useful in the group setting in which it was acquired.

False claims

When the individual claims loyalty to a particular nation or ethnic community, he often claims much which is not truly his. For example, kendô and karate are both Japanese sports played by many Japanese; nevertheless, while still in school Japanese youths must typically choose between one sport or the other, and few, if any, are active in both. Although both sports are Japanese, the Japanese youth who engages in kendô is not likely to be very familiar with karate, and vice versa for the Japanese youth who engages in karate. Nevertheless, both sports are considered Japanese and when either youth claims that he is Japanese, he is automatically associated with each.

Consider another example. Urushi is a kind of lacquered art work presented at Japanese weddings and other occasions where special honor is bestowed on individuals. The person who receives it is often unaware of the craftsman who made it, and only somewhat familiar with the actual workmanship which went into its production. Nevertheless, a couple will proudly employ it in their home. This same handicraft can also be purchased as a souvenir by a French tourist to Japan, who visits the atelier where it is produced and whose interest in it is likely to be more artistic than ritualistic. For which of these person's is urushi likely to be more Japanese? Well, if the Frenchman is himself an artist, it is difficult to say. Imagine now that the Japanese couple and the French artist are visiting an East Asian art museum on separate occasions -- say in Taipei, where urushi produced by the same craftsman mentioned above is on display. Both person's are likely to be attracted to it as Japanese artifact. Whereas the couple who received their urushi as a wedding present is likely to be reminded of their wedding and the person or family who presented them with the gift, the French artist who purchased his urushi for its artistic beauty is likely to be reminded of his sojourn in Japan and recall the special workmanship which goes into the production of urushi. For which of these is the museum display likely to be more Japanese?

Consider still another instance. Let us say that both the Japanese couple and the French artist grew up in Japan and spent their entire lives there. Assume that each visits a special exhibit devoted to urushi and sponsored by a private Japanese art foundation and the Japan's German embassy in Berlin. If these two people were accidentally to meet, what do you think they would discuss? Urushi , handicrafts, Japanese handicrafts, or Japan?

Contrived nationalism

Now imagine the two youths mentioned above who are drafted into their country's military to fight a war against a common enemy sometime. They need not be Japanese, only they need to have been brought up under the same natonal school system of an unspecified country. The chance that both of them will live to tell their children after they have married is small, and the likelihood that either will return to his home with all of his limbs in tact somewhat smaller. When they meet in boot camp what they share most in common is others in their platoon, a common drill sergeant, and preparation exercises for battle against the enemy, who neither of them have likely never met. If they grew up in different parts of the country, they are accustomed to different foods, speech habits, and regional customs. Because they did not attend the same school, they have no common friends and family. Familiar places which they both know are likely only those which they may have seen on national television or read about in a history or geography text approved by their government's education ministry. Although they are able to understand each other, intimate communication is difficult, because at home and at school each spoke a dialect substantially different from that of the other. In short, they are two complete strangers from two very different worlds and becoming friends is very difficult. Unable to feel comfortable under their new circumstances they desperately look for things which they share in common so as to escape the horrid fate with which both are confronted. In order to achieve this end they exchange experiences which each has had while growing up ­ the same kinds of experience which humans share the world over, experiences which they could just as easily share with the enemy, if they were only able to meet under peaceful circumstances, and one or the other were bilingual. This latter thought is of course not one which they dare entertain, because in a few weeks or months they will be compelled to maim and kill enemy soldiers just like themselves, but who are wearing different uniforms, flying a different flag, and following the commands of a different general. So they learn to sing new patriotic songs -- not those which they knew as children, because now they are "adults"; read the same newsprint censored by the same national government, and discuss the reasons for the war and the mutual importance of a common territory which up until now they hardly knew they shared except for the answer to a question on a geography test which both were compelled to memorize in school. By the time the war is over -- should each be lucky enough to survive it -- they will have become life time buddies. Not because they shared much of anything in common when the war began; rather, because they have fought side-by-side for many months or years seeking to defeat a common unkown enemy and thereby secured their own homes and families from destruction.

What were before little more than different shapes and colors on a piece of paper or cloth are now national symbols of hatred toward a common enemy or of deep affection for a life time friend both of which were shared as traumatic experiences which neither of the two young veterans, nor their enemy counterparts are every likely to forget. These experiences will be used by historians and novelists, who write the books which the children of these veterans will someday read, so that the next time their governments decide to go to war, conscripting new recruits will be just a little bit easier than the last time. This same process will repeat itself over and over again until the damage is so great that the peoples of each country eventually place enough pressure on their governments to enter into permanent peace or one country or the other finally dominates. If in this latter case the oppression is not complete and the dominant government remains unwilling to compromise, a permanent war of subversion will result.