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Legitimacy
It is quite possible for a small group or a small set of groups to conclude that their government is illegitimate and so does not have the right to exercise authorized power even as the vast majority think that government is rightfully exercising authorized power. In this case, since the dissenting group is small and the great majority see their government as legitimate, the state can be deemed broadly legitimate. Broad legitimacy, therefore, is defined not as unanimous agreement by the people that a government’s authority is rightfully exercised, but simply as a broad sentiment that it is.
Legitimacy is a vague concept. Citizens’ judgments about legitimacy entail the often-difficult determinations of what is or is not rightful and thus consistent with morality, justice, and social welfare. Judging rightfulness can be a challenging task, as can the determination of whether a regime truly possesses broad legitimacy. Though you cannot always say for certain that a government truly has broad legitimacy, broad illegitimacy is often easy to detect. Indications of governments that do not have broad legitimacy can take many forms, including sustained protests, very low levels of trust in the regime as captured by polling data, and widespread calls for revising or abandoning the constitution.
The most effective governments, Weber argued, not only have laws that clearly authorize power but also have some substantial measure of broad legitimacy. Broadly legitimate governments can exercise power without the threat of popular rebellion, and the state can more readily rely on people to follow the law. These conditions can spare the government the cost of large standing police forces or militaries, and those resources in turn can be allocated in other areas. Unsurprisingly, most governments seek to legitimize their rule.
In the United States, many debates over rival understandings of law and public policy are not debates over legitimacy. For example, many groups in the United States disagree over certain tax policies; some want to increase taxes to pay for greater services, while others want to lower taxes to encourage economic growth. Yet those who oppose a particular tax law rarely refer to it as illegitimate since the law is recognized as coming from a process that has widespread popular support—that is, from the lawmaking process authorized in the US Constitution. Therefore, tax laws that many disfavor are usually not seen as illegitimate, but simply as unpopular or unwise and thus in need of change.
However, in the United States today, more and more debates surrounding law, public policy, and election results are expressed in terms of judgments of their legitimacy or illegitimacy. A true loss of legitimacy, either in the eyes of a small group or in the eyes of the broad populace, occurs only when a law is determined to be so wrong or harmful that it is not right for the government to enact it. In many cases in the United States today, allegations of illegitimacy contend not that a law or electoral result lacks legitimacy because the substance of the law or election outcome is so egregious that it is not a rightful thing for the government to do or to permit, but because they claim the US Constitution does not authorize the law or the process that resulted in a particular outcome.
These debates are complicated, and it is difficult to pinpoint the origin, rationale, and true motivation behind these judgments that the 2020 election results, for example, are illegitimate. What can be said is that there seem to be not only deeply rooted disagreements in the United States over what policies are best, but also deep disagreements about whether a variety of laws or governmental actions are in fact authorized by the Constitution—a development arising because of deepening disagreements among citizens about what the Constitution and the rules it contains actually mean.
Some public allegations that a law or electoral outcome is illegitimate in the sense that it is unauthorized may be mere covers for the genuine view that the laws or the electoral results are themselves unrightful, even if they were authorized. Those making such claims may not wish to be seen as protesting authorized governmental activity since to do so could make them appear lawless or even revolutionary.
If a nationwide survey revealed that 85% of citizens trusted their government despite frequent small protests, what would this most likely indicate?
Legitimacy
It is quite possible for a small group or a small set of groups to conclude that their government is illegitimate and so does not have the right to exercise authorized power even as the vast majority think that government is rightfully exercising authorized power. In this case, since the dissenting group is small and the great majority see their government as legitimate, the state can be deemed broadly legitimate. Broad legitimacy, therefore, is defined not as unanimous agreement by the people that a government’s authority is rightfully exercised, but simply as a broad sentiment that it is.
Legitimacy is a vague concept. Citizens’ judgments about legitimacy entail the often-difficult determinations of what is or is not rightful and thus consistent with morality, justice, and social welfare. Judging rightfulness can be a challenging task, as can the determination of whether a regime truly possesses broad legitimacy. Though you cannot always say for certain that a government truly has broad legitimacy, broad illegitimacy is often easy to detect. Indications of governments that do not have broad legitimacy can take many forms, including sustained protests, very low levels of trust in the regime as captured by polling data, and widespread calls for revising or abandoning the constitution.
The most effective governments, Weber argued, not only have laws that clearly authorize power but also have some substantial measure of broad legitimacy. Broadly legitimate governments can exercise power without the threat of popular rebellion, and the state can more readily rely on people to follow the law. These conditions can spare the government the cost of large standing police forces or militaries, and those resources in turn can be allocated in other areas. Unsurprisingly, most governments seek to legitimize their rule.
In the United States, many debates over rival understandings of law and public policy are not debates over legitimacy. For example, many groups in the United States disagree over certain tax policies; some want to increase taxes to pay for greater services, while others want to lower taxes to encourage economic growth. Yet those who oppose a particular tax law rarely refer to it as illegitimate since the law is recognized as coming from a process that has widespread popular support—that is, from the lawmaking process authorized in the US Constitution. Therefore, tax laws that many disfavor are usually not seen as illegitimate, but simply as unpopular or unwise and thus in need of change.
However, in the United States today, more and more debates surrounding law, public policy, and election results are expressed in terms of judgments of their legitimacy or illegitimacy. A true loss of legitimacy, either in the eyes of a small group or in the eyes of the broad populace, occurs only when a law is determined to be so wrong or harmful that it is not right for the government to enact it. In many cases in the United States today, allegations of illegitimacy contend not that a law or electoral result lacks legitimacy because the substance of the law or election outcome is so egregious that it is not a rightful thing for the government to do or to permit, but because they claim the US Constitution does not authorize the law or the process that resulted in a particular outcome.
These debates are complicated, and it is difficult to pinpoint the origin, rationale, and true motivation behind these judgments that the 2020 election results, for example, are illegitimate. What can be said is that there seem to be not only deeply rooted disagreements in the United States over what policies are best, but also deep disagreements about whether a variety of laws or governmental actions are in fact authorized by the Constitution—a development arising because of deepening disagreements among citizens about what the Constitution and the rules it contains actually mean.
Some public allegations that a law or electoral outcome is illegitimate in the sense that it is unauthorized may be mere covers for the genuine view that the laws or the electoral results are themselves unrightful, even if they were authorized. Those making such claims may not wish to be seen as protesting authorized governmental activity since to do so could make them appear lawless or even revolutionary.
Which of the following best captures the central argument of the passage on legitimacy?
Legitimacy
It is quite possible for a small group or a small set of groups to conclude that their government is illegitimate and so does not have the right to exercise authorized power even as the vast majority think that government is rightfully exercising authorized power. In this case, since the dissenting group is small and the great majority see their government as legitimate, the state can be deemed broadly legitimate. Broad legitimacy, therefore, is defined not as unanimous agreement by the people that a government’s authority is rightfully exercised, but simply as a broad sentiment that it is.
Legitimacy is a vague concept. Citizens’ judgments about legitimacy entail the often-difficult determinations of what is or is not rightful and thus consistent with morality, justice, and social welfare. Judging rightfulness can be a challenging task, as can the determination of whether a regime truly possesses broad legitimacy. Though you cannot always say for certain that a government truly has broad legitimacy, broad illegitimacy is often easy to detect. Indications of governments that do not have broad legitimacy can take many forms, including sustained protests, very low levels of trust in the regime as captured by polling data, and widespread calls for revising or abandoning the constitution.
The most effective governments, Weber argued, not only have laws that clearly authorize power but also have some substantial measure of broad legitimacy. Broadly legitimate governments can exercise power without the threat of popular rebellion, and the state can more readily rely on people to follow the law. These conditions can spare the government the cost of large standing police forces or militaries, and those resources in turn can be allocated in other areas. Unsurprisingly, most governments seek to legitimize their rule.
In the United States, many debates over rival understandings of law and public policy are not debates over legitimacy. For example, many groups in the United States disagree over certain tax policies; some want to increase taxes to pay for greater services, while others want to lower taxes to encourage economic growth. Yet those who oppose a particular tax law rarely refer to it as illegitimate since the law is recognized as coming from a process that has widespread popular support—that is, from the lawmaking process authorized in the US Constitution. Therefore, tax laws that many disfavor are usually not seen as illegitimate, but simply as unpopular or unwise and thus in need of change.
However, in the United States today, more and more debates surrounding law, public policy, and election results are expressed in terms of judgments of their legitimacy or illegitimacy. A true loss of legitimacy, either in the eyes of a small group or in the eyes of the broad populace, occurs only when a law is determined to be so wrong or harmful that it is not right for the government to enact it. In many cases in the United States today, allegations of illegitimacy contend not that a law or electoral result lacks legitimacy because the substance of the law or election outcome is so egregious that it is not a rightful thing for the government to do or to permit, but because they claim the US Constitution does not authorize the law or the process that resulted in a particular outcome.
These debates are complicated, and it is difficult to pinpoint the origin, rationale, and true motivation behind these judgments that the 2020 election results, for example, are illegitimate. What can be said is that there seem to be not only deeply rooted disagreements in the United States over what policies are best, but also deep disagreements about whether a variety of laws or governmental actions are in fact authorized by the Constitution—a development arising because of deepening disagreements among citizens about what the Constitution and the rules it contains actually mean.
Some public allegations that a law or electoral outcome is illegitimate in the sense that it is unauthorized may be mere covers for the genuine view that the laws or the electoral results are themselves unrightful, even if they were authorized. Those making such claims may not wish to be seen as protesting authorized governmental activity since to do so could make them appear lawless or even revolutionary.
Which of the following statements about legitimacy is false?
Legitimacy
It is quite possible for a small group or a small set of groups to conclude that their government is illegitimate and so does not have the right to exercise authorized power even as the vast majority think that government is rightfully exercising authorized power. In this case, since the dissenting group is small and the great majority see their government as legitimate, the state can be deemed broadly legitimate. Broad legitimacy, therefore, is defined not as unanimous agreement by the people that a government’s authority is rightfully exercised, but simply as a broad sentiment that it is.
Legitimacy is a vague concept. Citizens’ judgments about legitimacy entail the often-difficult determinations of what is or is not rightful and thus consistent with morality, justice, and social welfare. Judging rightfulness can be a challenging task, as can the determination of whether a regime truly possesses broad legitimacy. Though you cannot always say for certain that a government truly has broad legitimacy, broad illegitimacy is often easy to detect. Indications of governments that do not have broad legitimacy can take many forms, including sustained protests, very low levels of trust in the regime as captured by polling data, and widespread calls for revising or abandoning the constitution.
The most effective governments, Weber argued, not only have laws that clearly authorize power but also have some substantial measure of broad legitimacy. Broadly legitimate governments can exercise power without the threat of popular rebellion, and the state can more readily rely on people to follow the law. These conditions can spare the government the cost of large standing police forces or militaries, and those resources in turn can be allocated in other areas. Unsurprisingly, most governments seek to legitimize their rule.
In the United States, many debates over rival understandings of law and public policy are not debates over legitimacy. For example, many groups in the United States disagree over certain tax policies; some want to increase taxes to pay for greater services, while others want to lower taxes to encourage economic growth. Yet those who oppose a particular tax law rarely refer to it as illegitimate since the law is recognized as coming from a process that has widespread popular support—that is, from the lawmaking process authorized in the US Constitution. Therefore, tax laws that many disfavor are usually not seen as illegitimate, but simply as unpopular or unwise and thus in need of change.
However, in the United States today, more and more debates surrounding law, public policy, and election results are expressed in terms of judgments of their legitimacy or illegitimacy. A true loss of legitimacy, either in the eyes of a small group or in the eyes of the broad populace, occurs only when a law is determined to be so wrong or harmful that it is not right for the government to enact it. In many cases in the United States today, allegations of illegitimacy contend not that a law or electoral result lacks legitimacy because the substance of the law or election outcome is so egregious that it is not a rightful thing for the government to do or to permit, but because they claim the US Constitution does not authorize the law or the process that resulted in a particular outcome.
These debates are complicated, and it is difficult to pinpoint the origin, rationale, and true motivation behind these judgments that the 2020 election results, for example, are illegitimate. What can be said is that there seem to be not only deeply rooted disagreements in the United States over what policies are best, but also deep disagreements about whether a variety of laws or governmental actions are in fact authorized by the Constitution—a development arising because of deepening disagreements among citizens about what the Constitution and the rules it contains actually mean.
Some public allegations that a law or electoral outcome is illegitimate in the sense that it is unauthorized may be mere covers for the genuine view that the laws or the electoral results are themselves unrightful, even if they were authorized. Those making such claims may not wish to be seen as protesting authorized governmental activity since to do so could make them appear lawless or even revolutionary.
What question about the Constitution’s meaning would the author likely identify as fueling current legitimacy disputes?
Legitimacy
It is quite possible for a small group or a small set of groups to conclude that their government is illegitimate and so does not have the right to exercise authorized power even as the vast majority think that government is rightfully exercising authorized power. In this case, since the dissenting group is small and the great majority see their government as legitimate, the state can be deemed broadly legitimate. Broad legitimacy, therefore, is defined not as unanimous agreement by the people that a government’s authority is rightfully exercised, but simply as a broad sentiment that it is.
Legitimacy is a vague concept. Citizens’ judgments about legitimacy entail the often-difficult determinations of what is or is not rightful and thus consistent with morality, justice, and social welfare. Judging rightfulness can be a challenging task, as can the determination of whether a regime truly possesses broad legitimacy. Though you cannot always say for certain that a government truly has broad legitimacy, broad illegitimacy is often easy to detect. Indications of governments that do not have broad legitimacy can take many forms, including sustained protests, very low levels of trust in the regime as captured by polling data, and widespread calls for revising or abandoning the constitution.
The most effective governments, Weber argued, not only have laws that clearly authorize power but also have some substantial measure of broad legitimacy. Broadly legitimate governments can exercise power without the threat of popular rebellion, and the state can more readily rely on people to follow the law. These conditions can spare the government the cost of large standing police forces or militaries, and those resources in turn can be allocated in other areas. Unsurprisingly, most governments seek to legitimize their rule.
In the United States, many debates over rival understandings of law and public policy are not debates over legitimacy. For example, many groups in the United States disagree over certain tax policies; some want to increase taxes to pay for greater services, while others want to lower taxes to encourage economic growth. Yet those who oppose a particular tax law rarely refer to it as illegitimate since the law is recognized as coming from a process that has widespread popular support—that is, from the lawmaking process authorized in the US Constitution. Therefore, tax laws that many disfavor are usually not seen as illegitimate, but simply as unpopular or unwise and thus in need of change.
However, in the United States today, more and more debates surrounding law, public policy, and election results are expressed in terms of judgments of their legitimacy or illegitimacy. A true loss of legitimacy, either in the eyes of a small group or in the eyes of the broad populace, occurs only when a law is determined to be so wrong or harmful that it is not right for the government to enact it. In many cases in the United States today, allegations of illegitimacy contend not that a law or electoral result lacks legitimacy because the substance of the law or election outcome is so egregious that it is not a rightful thing for the government to do or to permit, but because they claim the US Constitution does not authorize the law or the process that resulted in a particular outcome.
These debates are complicated, and it is difficult to pinpoint the origin, rationale, and true motivation behind these judgments that the 2020 election results, for example, are illegitimate. What can be said is that there seem to be not only deeply rooted disagreements in the United States over what policies are best, but also deep disagreements about whether a variety of laws or governmental actions are in fact authorized by the Constitution—a development arising because of deepening disagreements among citizens about what the Constitution and the rules it contains actually mean.
Some public allegations that a law or electoral outcome is illegitimate in the sense that it is unauthorized may be mere covers for the genuine view that the laws or the electoral results are themselves unrightful, even if they were authorized. Those making such claims may not wish to be seen as protesting authorized governmental activity since to do so could make them appear lawless or even revolutionary.
If an activist group labels an election illegitimate purely because they lost, how would the author most likely assess that claim?
Technology, Media Literacy, and the Human Subject
Supporting the expansion of media literacy, David Morley says, ‘Media questions are important, then, but they only seem to me to be really significant if they are set in a far wider frame, rather than focusing just on media technologies themselves’. One way to increase this frame is through domestication theory, which parallels aspects of media literacy. Roger Silverstone developed domestication theory. Together with Morley, Silverstone began researching television ‘in a broader framework’ in order to understand ‘the meanings of both texts and technologies, […] as emergent properties of contextualized audience practices’. Domestication theory focused beyond simply the text and analyzed ‘a whole range of overlapping, determinate and indeterminate social and cultural practices which together define—for particular viewers at particular times in particular places—their relationship to the medium'.
While domestication theory has worked fairly well theoretically, it has been criticized for the challenge of empirically applying the theory. Even with the inclusion of the media-as-object, domestication theory still lacks a robust way of investigating the effects of the medium.
While domestication concerns itself primarily with social theory, it focuses less on educating the individual as media literacy does. What is still missing is a concentrated approach to investigating the effects of a specific medium on individuals and societies. While domestication theory includes attention to media objects such as television sets, it often does so in an anthropological or ethnographic approach with an emphasis on the context within which the object resides. Morley states, ‘we need a new paradigm for the discipline, which attends more closely to its material as well as its symbolic dimensions’.
The study of media and communications can also have an interdisciplinary focus. Shaun Moores explains, ‘media have to be understood in their broad social and cultural contexts’. He suggests that it is a common misconception that ‘media studies are simply about “studying media” in isolation’. Contextualizing ideas from Moores and domestication theory counters a more narrowly defined approach to media literacy, and lends support to enhancing media literacy through a situating approach.
Beyond media literacy are other media-related fields researching the impact of ICTs. Some of these are areas that focus on the technological features of media, but their approach can often be more functional. Examples of this are digital literacy; data literacy; and the digital detox movement. Additionally, there are disciplines that can provide insights outside of media and communications, which focus on the relation between humans and technologies; these include postphenomenology, actornetwork theory (ANT), and the general field of philosophy of technology. Also, scholars like Rosi Braidotti, Katherine Hayles, and Donna Haraway offer viewpoints from within philosophical posthumanism that focus more on the human side of human-technology relations. They focus on concepts such as de-centering the human and making sure marginalized groups are included in any definition of ‘human’.
According to the passage, domestication theory primarily emphasizes:
Technology, Media Literacy, and the Human Subject
Supporting the expansion of media literacy, David Morley says, ‘Media questions are important, then, but they only seem to me to be really significant if they are set in a far wider frame, rather than focusing just on media technologies themselves’. One way to increase this frame is through domestication theory, which parallels aspects of media literacy. Roger Silverstone developed domestication theory. Together with Morley, Silverstone began researching television ‘in a broader framework’ in order to understand ‘the meanings of both texts and technologies, […] as emergent properties of contextualized audience practices’. Domestication theory focused beyond simply the text and analyzed ‘a whole range of overlapping, determinate and indeterminate social and cultural practices which together define—for particular viewers at particular times in particular places—their relationship to the medium'.
While domestication theory has worked fairly well theoretically, it has been criticized for the challenge of empirically applying the theory. Even with the inclusion of the media-as-object, domestication theory still lacks a robust way of investigating the effects of the medium.
While domestication concerns itself primarily with social theory, it focuses less on educating the individual as media literacy does. What is still missing is a concentrated approach to investigating the effects of a specific medium on individuals and societies. While domestication theory includes attention to media objects such as television sets, it often does so in an anthropological or ethnographic approach with an emphasis on the context within which the object resides. Morley states, ‘we need a new paradigm for the discipline, which attends more closely to its material as well as its symbolic dimensions’.
The study of media and communications can also have an interdisciplinary focus. Shaun Moores explains, ‘media have to be understood in their broad social and cultural contexts’. He suggests that it is a common misconception that ‘media studies are simply about “studying media” in isolation’. Contextualizing ideas from Moores and domestication theory counters a more narrowly defined approach to media literacy, and lends support to enhancing media literacy through a situating approach.
Beyond media literacy are other media-related fields researching the impact of ICTs. Some of these are areas that focus on the technological features of media, but their approach can often be more functional. Examples of this are digital literacy; data literacy; and the digital detox movement. Additionally, there are disciplines that can provide insights outside of media and communications, which focus on the relation between humans and technologies; these include postphenomenology, actornetwork theory (ANT), and the general field of philosophy of technology. Also, scholars like Rosi Braidotti, Katherine Hayles, and Donna Haraway offer viewpoints from within philosophical posthumanism that focus more on the human side of human-technology relations. They focus on concepts such as de-centering the human and making sure marginalized groups are included in any definition of ‘human’.
Which hypothetical finding would most directly challenge the criticism that domestication theory lacks empirical applicability?
Technology, Media Literacy, and the Human Subject
Supporting the expansion of media literacy, David Morley says, ‘Media questions are important, then, but they only seem to me to be really significant if they are set in a far wider frame, rather than focusing just on media technologies themselves’. One way to increase this frame is through domestication theory, which parallels aspects of media literacy. Roger Silverstone developed domestication theory. Together with Morley, Silverstone began researching television ‘in a broader framework’ in order to understand ‘the meanings of both texts and technologies, […] as emergent properties of contextualized audience practices’. Domestication theory focused beyond simply the text and analyzed ‘a whole range of overlapping, determinate and indeterminate social and cultural practices which together define—for particular viewers at particular times in particular places—their relationship to the medium'.
While domestication theory has worked fairly well theoretically, it has been criticized for the challenge of empirically applying the theory. Even with the inclusion of the media-as-object, domestication theory still lacks a robust way of investigating the effects of the medium.
While domestication concerns itself primarily with social theory, it focuses less on educating the individual as media literacy does. What is still missing is a concentrated approach to investigating the effects of a specific medium on individuals and societies. While domestication theory includes attention to media objects such as television sets, it often does so in an anthropological or ethnographic approach with an emphasis on the context within which the object resides. Morley states, ‘we need a new paradigm for the discipline, which attends more closely to its material as well as its symbolic dimensions’.
The study of media and communications can also have an interdisciplinary focus. Shaun Moores explains, ‘media have to be understood in their broad social and cultural contexts’. He suggests that it is a common misconception that ‘media studies are simply about “studying media” in isolation’. Contextualizing ideas from Moores and domestication theory counters a more narrowly defined approach to media literacy, and lends support to enhancing media literacy through a situating approach.
Beyond media literacy are other media-related fields researching the impact of ICTs. Some of these are areas that focus on the technological features of media, but their approach can often be more functional. Examples of this are digital literacy; data literacy; and the digital detox movement. Additionally, there are disciplines that can provide insights outside of media and communications, which focus on the relation between humans and technologies; these include postphenomenology, actornetwork theory (ANT), and the general field of philosophy of technology. Also, scholars like Rosi Braidotti, Katherine Hayles, and Donna Haraway offer viewpoints from within philosophical posthumanism that focus more on the human side of human-technology relations. They focus on concepts such as de-centering the human and making sure marginalized groups are included in any definition of ‘human’.
Morley’s call for “a new paradigm…which attends more closely to its material as well as its symbolic dimensions” highlights:
Technology, Media Literacy, and the Human Subject
Supporting the expansion of media literacy, David Morley says, ‘Media questions are important, then, but they only seem to me to be really significant if they are set in a far wider frame, rather than focusing just on media technologies themselves’. One way to increase this frame is through domestication theory, which parallels aspects of media literacy. Roger Silverstone developed domestication theory. Together with Morley, Silverstone began researching television ‘in a broader framework’ in order to understand ‘the meanings of both texts and technologies, […] as emergent properties of contextualized audience practices’. Domestication theory focused beyond simply the text and analyzed ‘a whole range of overlapping, determinate and indeterminate social and cultural practices which together define—for particular viewers at particular times in particular places—their relationship to the medium'.
While domestication theory has worked fairly well theoretically, it has been criticized for the challenge of empirically applying the theory. Even with the inclusion of the media-as-object, domestication theory still lacks a robust way of investigating the effects of the medium.
While domestication concerns itself primarily with social theory, it focuses less on educating the individual as media literacy does. What is still missing is a concentrated approach to investigating the effects of a specific medium on individuals and societies. While domestication theory includes attention to media objects such as television sets, it often does so in an anthropological or ethnographic approach with an emphasis on the context within which the object resides. Morley states, ‘we need a new paradigm for the discipline, which attends more closely to its material as well as its symbolic dimensions’.
The study of media and communications can also have an interdisciplinary focus. Shaun Moores explains, ‘media have to be understood in their broad social and cultural contexts’. He suggests that it is a common misconception that ‘media studies are simply about “studying media” in isolation’. Contextualizing ideas from Moores and domestication theory counters a more narrowly defined approach to media literacy, and lends support to enhancing media literacy through a situating approach.
Beyond media literacy are other media-related fields researching the impact of ICTs. Some of these are areas that focus on the technological features of media, but their approach can often be more functional. Examples of this are digital literacy; data literacy; and the digital detox movement. Additionally, there are disciplines that can provide insights outside of media and communications, which focus on the relation between humans and technologies; these include postphenomenology, actornetwork theory (ANT), and the general field of philosophy of technology. Also, scholars like Rosi Braidotti, Katherine Hayles, and Donna Haraway offer viewpoints from within philosophical posthumanism that focus more on the human side of human-technology relations. They focus on concepts such as de-centering the human and making sure marginalized groups are included in any definition of ‘human’.
Moores’ assertion that “media have to be understood in their broad social and cultural contexts” is used to support the claim that media studies should:
Technology, Media Literacy, and the Human Subject
Supporting the expansion of media literacy, David Morley says, ‘Media questions are important, then, but they only seem to me to be really significant if they are set in a far wider frame, rather than focusing just on media technologies themselves’. One way to increase this frame is through domestication theory, which parallels aspects of media literacy. Roger Silverstone developed domestication theory. Together with Morley, Silverstone began researching television ‘in a broader framework’ in order to understand ‘the meanings of both texts and technologies, […] as emergent properties of contextualized audience practices’. Domestication theory focused beyond simply the text and analyzed ‘a whole range of overlapping, determinate and indeterminate social and cultural practices which together define—for particular viewers at particular times in particular places—their relationship to the medium'.
While domestication theory has worked fairly well theoretically, it has been criticized for the challenge of empirically applying the theory. Even with the inclusion of the media-as-object, domestication theory still lacks a robust way of investigating the effects of the medium.
While domestication concerns itself primarily with social theory, it focuses less on educating the individual as media literacy does. What is still missing is a concentrated approach to investigating the effects of a specific medium on individuals and societies. While domestication theory includes attention to media objects such as television sets, it often does so in an anthropological or ethnographic approach with an emphasis on the context within which the object resides. Morley states, ‘we need a new paradigm for the discipline, which attends more closely to its material as well as its symbolic dimensions’.
The study of media and communications can also have an interdisciplinary focus. Shaun Moores explains, ‘media have to be understood in their broad social and cultural contexts’. He suggests that it is a common misconception that ‘media studies are simply about “studying media” in isolation’. Contextualizing ideas from Moores and domestication theory counters a more narrowly defined approach to media literacy, and lends support to enhancing media literacy through a situating approach.
Beyond media literacy are other media-related fields researching the impact of ICTs. Some of these are areas that focus on the technological features of media, but their approach can often be more functional. Examples of this are digital literacy; data literacy; and the digital detox movement. Additionally, there are disciplines that can provide insights outside of media and communications, which focus on the relation between humans and technologies; these include postphenomenology, actornetwork theory (ANT), and the general field of philosophy of technology. Also, scholars like Rosi Braidotti, Katherine Hayles, and Donna Haraway offer viewpoints from within philosophical posthumanism that focus more on the human side of human-technology relations. They focus on concepts such as de-centering the human and making sure marginalized groups are included in any definition of ‘human’.
Postphenomenology and actor-network theory (ANT) are cited as valuable because they:
Technology, Media Literacy, and the Human Subject
Supporting the expansion of media literacy, David Morley says, ‘Media questions are important, then, but they only seem to me to be really significant if they are set in a far wider frame, rather than focusing just on media technologies themselves’. One way to increase this frame is through domestication theory, which parallels aspects of media literacy. Roger Silverstone developed domestication theory. Together with Morley, Silverstone began researching television ‘in a broader framework’ in order to understand ‘the meanings of both texts and technologies, […] as emergent properties of contextualized audience practices’. Domestication theory focused beyond simply the text and analyzed ‘a whole range of overlapping, determinate and indeterminate social and cultural practices which together define—for particular viewers at particular times in particular places—their relationship to the medium'.
While domestication theory has worked fairly well theoretically, it has been criticized for the challenge of empirically applying the theory. Even with the inclusion of the media-as-object, domestication theory still lacks a robust way of investigating the effects of the medium.
While domestication concerns itself primarily with social theory, it focuses less on educating the individual as media literacy does. What is still missing is a concentrated approach to investigating the effects of a specific medium on individuals and societies. While domestication theory includes attention to media objects such as television sets, it often does so in an anthropological or ethnographic approach with an emphasis on the context within which the object resides. Morley states, ‘we need a new paradigm for the discipline, which attends more closely to its material as well as its symbolic dimensions’.
The study of media and communications can also have an interdisciplinary focus. Shaun Moores explains, ‘media have to be understood in their broad social and cultural contexts’. He suggests that it is a common misconception that ‘media studies are simply about “studying media” in isolation’. Contextualizing ideas from Moores and domestication theory counters a more narrowly defined approach to media literacy, and lends support to enhancing media literacy through a situating approach.
Beyond media literacy are other media-related fields researching the impact of ICTs. Some of these are areas that focus on the technological features of media, but their approach can often be more functional. Examples of this are digital literacy; data literacy; and the digital detox movement. Additionally, there are disciplines that can provide insights outside of media and communications, which focus on the relation between humans and technologies; these include postphenomenology, actornetwork theory (ANT), and the general field of philosophy of technology. Also, scholars like Rosi Braidotti, Katherine Hayles, and Donna Haraway offer viewpoints from within philosophical posthumanism that focus more on the human side of human-technology relations. They focus on concepts such as de-centering the human and making sure marginalized groups are included in any definition of ‘human’.
Which statement would the author most likely endorse?
African Music
It is impossible to describe a single entity called “African music.” One need only compare the sacred music of the Gnawa musicians of Morocco with the choral traditions that arose in the townships of South Africa to see the vast range of musical practices found throughout this huge and complex region. As different as African musical traditions may sound from each other, they do tend to share some cultural and musical elements.
Linguistic scholars have been hard-pressed to find a single word that means “music” in many African languages. Music and bodily movement are usually considered part of a single whole, and sound cannot be separated from the cultural (and often religious) function of musical performances. In many African cultures, music and dance are considered communal activities; the Western idea of sitting silently while a performance is taking place is an anathema to these traditions. Many musical techniques that are shared by African musics— particularly the idea of “call and response,” where a soloist or group of performers will engage in short exchanges with other performers—seem to have arisen from this communal attitude toward music-making.
Nearly all African traditions have been passed down orally, and their study by Western scholars has often involved the transcription of performances into Western musical notation, which often proves woefully inadequate for the job. The influx of Christian choral music, especially in the southern regions of Africa, has resulted in music somewhat more easily notatable, and some African musicians do now use the familiar five-line system to capture their art.
In many African traditions, rhythm—the way music moves through time—seems to be privileged over melody and harmony. Many African performances are highly polyphonic and made up of several layers of interlocking rhythmic ostinatos, which are combined to create an overall effect suitable for the religious or cultural ceremony for which the sounds are being produced.
Lastly, the variety of instruments found throughout Africa is astounding. Perhaps most impressive is the range of percussion instruments (both idiophones and membranophones) that are often combined with distinctive uses of the human voice. In listening to performances of African music, those of us immersed in the Western musical tradition may be initially drawn to the vocal line as the most important feature, yet it may just be one element of a larger, complex musical texture.
Especially during the last century, however, scholars have tried to find ways to talk in general about Africa’s rich traditions while always acknowledging the sometimes very subtle differences between countries and ethnic groups. Beyond the recognition that African musicians maintained a vibrant and very distinct art, it has also been noted that this music—especially that of West Africa, from where the majority of enslaved people were taken—has played a significant role in the black cultural Diaspora, with important implications for the music of Latin America, the Caribbean, and a variety of African American traditions. Thus, understanding a few concepts that are shared by much African music helps listeners appreciate not only the continent’s music itself but also a host of related traditions. Fortunately, in today’s digital age, recordings of music from virtually all corners of Africa—both traditional repertoires and styles influenced by Western popular music—are readily available.
The Sahara Desert, which takes up almost the entire northern third of the continent, is perhaps the most important border that comes into play when discussing music in Africa. Countries that lie partly or entirely north of the Sahara (Egypt, Libya, Morocco, Tunisia, etc.) tend to share many qualities with music of the Middle East. The rainforests and grasslands of Sub-Saharan Africa (Ghana, Cameroon, Democratic Republic of Congo, Zambia, etc.) have produced very different traditions.
Which statement best captures the passage’s central argument?
African Music
It is impossible to describe a single entity called “African music.” One need only compare the sacred music of the Gnawa musicians of Morocco with the choral traditions that arose in the townships of South Africa to see the vast range of musical practices found throughout this huge and complex region. As different as African musical traditions may sound from each other, they do tend to share some cultural and musical elements.
Linguistic scholars have been hard-pressed to find a single word that means “music” in many African languages. Music and bodily movement are usually considered part of a single whole, and sound cannot be separated from the cultural (and often religious) function of musical performances. In many African cultures, music and dance are considered communal activities; the Western idea of sitting silently while a performance is taking place is an anathema to these traditions. Many musical techniques that are shared by African musics— particularly the idea of “call and response,” where a soloist or group of performers will engage in short exchanges with other performers—seem to have arisen from this communal attitude toward music-making.
Nearly all African traditions have been passed down orally, and their study by Western scholars has often involved the transcription of performances into Western musical notation, which often proves woefully inadequate for the job. The influx of Christian choral music, especially in the southern regions of Africa, has resulted in music somewhat more easily notatable, and some African musicians do now use the familiar five-line system to capture their art.
In many African traditions, rhythm—the way music moves through time—seems to be privileged over melody and harmony. Many African performances are highly polyphonic and made up of several layers of interlocking rhythmic ostinatos, which are combined to create an overall effect suitable for the religious or cultural ceremony for which the sounds are being produced.
Lastly, the variety of instruments found throughout Africa is astounding. Perhaps most impressive is the range of percussion instruments (both idiophones and membranophones) that are often combined with distinctive uses of the human voice. In listening to performances of African music, those of us immersed in the Western musical tradition may be initially drawn to the vocal line as the most important feature, yet it may just be one element of a larger, complex musical texture.
Especially during the last century, however, scholars have tried to find ways to talk in general about Africa’s rich traditions while always acknowledging the sometimes very subtle differences between countries and ethnic groups. Beyond the recognition that African musicians maintained a vibrant and very distinct art, it has also been noted that this music—especially that of West Africa, from where the majority of enslaved people were taken—has played a significant role in the black cultural Diaspora, with important implications for the music of Latin America, the Caribbean, and a variety of African American traditions. Thus, understanding a few concepts that are shared by much African music helps listeners appreciate not only the continent’s music itself but also a host of related traditions. Fortunately, in today’s digital age, recordings of music from virtually all corners of Africa—both traditional repertoires and styles influenced by Western popular music—are readily available.
The Sahara Desert, which takes up almost the entire northern third of the continent, is perhaps the most important border that comes into play when discussing music in Africa. Countries that lie partly or entirely north of the Sahara (Egypt, Libya, Morocco, Tunisia, etc.) tend to share many qualities with music of the Middle East. The rainforests and grasslands of Sub-Saharan Africa (Ghana, Cameroon, Democratic Republic of Congo, Zambia, etc.) have produced very different traditions.
If a researcher discovered an African tradition where performances are silent and audiences never move, how would this finding affect the passage’s claims?
African Music
It is impossible to describe a single entity called “African music.” One need only compare the sacred music of the Gnawa musicians of Morocco with the choral traditions that arose in the townships of South Africa to see the vast range of musical practices found throughout this huge and complex region. As different as African musical traditions may sound from each other, they do tend to share some cultural and musical elements.
Linguistic scholars have been hard-pressed to find a single word that means “music” in many African languages. Music and bodily movement are usually considered part of a single whole, and sound cannot be separated from the cultural (and often religious) function of musical performances. In many African cultures, music and dance are considered communal activities; the Western idea of sitting silently while a performance is taking place is an anathema to these traditions. Many musical techniques that are shared by African musics— particularly the idea of “call and response,” where a soloist or group of performers will engage in short exchanges with other performers—seem to have arisen from this communal attitude toward music-making.
Nearly all African traditions have been passed down orally, and their study by Western scholars has often involved the transcription of performances into Western musical notation, which often proves woefully inadequate for the job. The influx of Christian choral music, especially in the southern regions of Africa, has resulted in music somewhat more easily notatable, and some African musicians do now use the familiar five-line system to capture their art.
In many African traditions, rhythm—the way music moves through time—seems to be privileged over melody and harmony. Many African performances are highly polyphonic and made up of several layers of interlocking rhythmic ostinatos, which are combined to create an overall effect suitable for the religious or cultural ceremony for which the sounds are being produced.
Lastly, the variety of instruments found throughout Africa is astounding. Perhaps most impressive is the range of percussion instruments (both idiophones and membranophones) that are often combined with distinctive uses of the human voice. In listening to performances of African music, those of us immersed in the Western musical tradition may be initially drawn to the vocal line as the most important feature, yet it may just be one element of a larger, complex musical texture.
Especially during the last century, however, scholars have tried to find ways to talk in general about Africa’s rich traditions while always acknowledging the sometimes very subtle differences between countries and ethnic groups. Beyond the recognition that African musicians maintained a vibrant and very distinct art, it has also been noted that this music—especially that of West Africa, from where the majority of enslaved people were taken—has played a significant role in the black cultural Diaspora, with important implications for the music of Latin America, the Caribbean, and a variety of African American traditions. Thus, understanding a few concepts that are shared by much African music helps listeners appreciate not only the continent’s music itself but also a host of related traditions. Fortunately, in today’s digital age, recordings of music from virtually all corners of Africa—both traditional repertoires and styles influenced by Western popular music—are readily available.
The Sahara Desert, which takes up almost the entire northern third of the continent, is perhaps the most important border that comes into play when discussing music in Africa. Countries that lie partly or entirely north of the Sahara (Egypt, Libya, Morocco, Tunisia, etc.) tend to share many qualities with music of the Middle East. The rainforests and grasslands of Sub-Saharan Africa (Ghana, Cameroon, Democratic Republic of Congo, Zambia, etc.) have produced very different traditions.
Which hypothetical evidence would most undermine the claim that Western notation is “woefully inadequate” for African music?
African Music
It is impossible to describe a single entity called “African music.” One need only compare the sacred music of the Gnawa musicians of Morocco with the choral traditions that arose in the townships of South Africa to see the vast range of musical practices found throughout this huge and complex region. As different as African musical traditions may sound from each other, they do tend to share some cultural and musical elements.
Linguistic scholars have been hard-pressed to find a single word that means “music” in many African languages. Music and bodily movement are usually considered part of a single whole, and sound cannot be separated from the cultural (and often religious) function of musical performances. In many African cultures, music and dance are considered communal activities; the Western idea of sitting silently while a performance is taking place is an anathema to these traditions. Many musical techniques that are shared by African musics— particularly the idea of “call and response,” where a soloist or group of performers will engage in short exchanges with other performers—seem to have arisen from this communal attitude toward music-making.
Nearly all African traditions have been passed down orally, and their study by Western scholars has often involved the transcription of performances into Western musical notation, which often proves woefully inadequate for the job. The influx of Christian choral music, especially in the southern regions of Africa, has resulted in music somewhat more easily notatable, and some African musicians do now use the familiar five-line system to capture their art.
In many African traditions, rhythm—the way music moves through time—seems to be privileged over melody and harmony. Many African performances are highly polyphonic and made up of several layers of interlocking rhythmic ostinatos, which are combined to create an overall effect suitable for the religious or cultural ceremony for which the sounds are being produced.
Lastly, the variety of instruments found throughout Africa is astounding. Perhaps most impressive is the range of percussion instruments (both idiophones and membranophones) that are often combined with distinctive uses of the human voice. In listening to performances of African music, those of us immersed in the Western musical tradition may be initially drawn to the vocal line as the most important feature, yet it may just be one element of a larger, complex musical texture.
Especially during the last century, however, scholars have tried to find ways to talk in general about Africa’s rich traditions while always acknowledging the sometimes very subtle differences between countries and ethnic groups. Beyond the recognition that African musicians maintained a vibrant and very distinct art, it has also been noted that this music—especially that of West Africa, from where the majority of enslaved people were taken—has played a significant role in the black cultural Diaspora, with important implications for the music of Latin America, the Caribbean, and a variety of African American traditions. Thus, understanding a few concepts that are shared by much African music helps listeners appreciate not only the continent’s music itself but also a host of related traditions. Fortunately, in today’s digital age, recordings of music from virtually all corners of Africa—both traditional repertoires and styles influenced by Western popular music—are readily available.
The Sahara Desert, which takes up almost the entire northern third of the continent, is perhaps the most important border that comes into play when discussing music in Africa. Countries that lie partly or entirely north of the Sahara (Egypt, Libya, Morocco, Tunisia, etc.) tend to share many qualities with music of the Middle East. The rainforests and grasslands of Sub-Saharan Africa (Ghana, Cameroon, Democratic Republic of Congo, Zambia, etc.) have produced very different traditions.
The author’s comparison of North African and Sub-Saharan traditions primarily serves to:
African Music
It is impossible to describe a single entity called “African music.” One need only compare the sacred music of the Gnawa musicians of Morocco with the choral traditions that arose in the townships of South Africa to see the vast range of musical practices found throughout this huge and complex region. As different as African musical traditions may sound from each other, they do tend to share some cultural and musical elements.
Linguistic scholars have been hard-pressed to find a single word that means “music” in many African languages. Music and bodily movement are usually considered part of a single whole, and sound cannot be separated from the cultural (and often religious) function of musical performances. In many African cultures, music and dance are considered communal activities; the Western idea of sitting silently while a performance is taking place is an anathema to these traditions. Many musical techniques that are shared by African musics— particularly the idea of “call and response,” where a soloist or group of performers will engage in short exchanges with other performers—seem to have arisen from this communal attitude toward music-making.
Nearly all African traditions have been passed down orally, and their study by Western scholars has often involved the transcription of performances into Western musical notation, which often proves woefully inadequate for the job. The influx of Christian choral music, especially in the southern regions of Africa, has resulted in music somewhat more easily notatable, and some African musicians do now use the familiar five-line system to capture their art.
In many African traditions, rhythm—the way music moves through time—seems to be privileged over melody and harmony. Many African performances are highly polyphonic and made up of several layers of interlocking rhythmic ostinatos, which are combined to create an overall effect suitable for the religious or cultural ceremony for which the sounds are being produced.
Lastly, the variety of instruments found throughout Africa is astounding. Perhaps most impressive is the range of percussion instruments (both idiophones and membranophones) that are often combined with distinctive uses of the human voice. In listening to performances of African music, those of us immersed in the Western musical tradition may be initially drawn to the vocal line as the most important feature, yet it may just be one element of a larger, complex musical texture.
Especially during the last century, however, scholars have tried to find ways to talk in general about Africa’s rich traditions while always acknowledging the sometimes very subtle differences between countries and ethnic groups. Beyond the recognition that African musicians maintained a vibrant and very distinct art, it has also been noted that this music—especially that of West Africa, from where the majority of enslaved people were taken—has played a significant role in the black cultural Diaspora, with important implications for the music of Latin America, the Caribbean, and a variety of African American traditions. Thus, understanding a few concepts that are shared by much African music helps listeners appreciate not only the continent’s music itself but also a host of related traditions. Fortunately, in today’s digital age, recordings of music from virtually all corners of Africa—both traditional repertoires and styles influenced by Western popular music—are readily available.
The Sahara Desert, which takes up almost the entire northern third of the continent, is perhaps the most important border that comes into play when discussing music in Africa. Countries that lie partly or entirely north of the Sahara (Egypt, Libya, Morocco, Tunisia, etc.) tend to share many qualities with music of the Middle East. The rainforests and grasslands of Sub-Saharan Africa (Ghana, Cameroon, Democratic Republic of Congo, Zambia, etc.) have produced very different traditions.
Based on the passage, which feature would most likely characterize a newly documented Sub-Saharan style?
African Music
It is impossible to describe a single entity called “African music.” One need only compare the sacred music of the Gnawa musicians of Morocco with the choral traditions that arose in the townships of South Africa to see the vast range of musical practices found throughout this huge and complex region. As different as African musical traditions may sound from each other, they do tend to share some cultural and musical elements.
Linguistic scholars have been hard-pressed to find a single word that means “music” in many African languages. Music and bodily movement are usually considered part of a single whole, and sound cannot be separated from the cultural (and often religious) function of musical performances. In many African cultures, music and dance are considered communal activities; the Western idea of sitting silently while a performance is taking place is an anathema to these traditions. Many musical techniques that are shared by African musics— particularly the idea of “call and response,” where a soloist or group of performers will engage in short exchanges with other performers—seem to have arisen from this communal attitude toward music-making.
Nearly all African traditions have been passed down orally, and their study by Western scholars has often involved the transcription of performances into Western musical notation, which often proves woefully inadequate for the job. The influx of Christian choral music, especially in the southern regions of Africa, has resulted in music somewhat more easily notatable, and some African musicians do now use the familiar five-line system to capture their art.
In many African traditions, rhythm—the way music moves through time—seems to be privileged over melody and harmony. Many African performances are highly polyphonic and made up of several layers of interlocking rhythmic ostinatos, which are combined to create an overall effect suitable for the religious or cultural ceremony for which the sounds are being produced.
Lastly, the variety of instruments found throughout Africa is astounding. Perhaps most impressive is the range of percussion instruments (both idiophones and membranophones) that are often combined with distinctive uses of the human voice. In listening to performances of African music, those of us immersed in the Western musical tradition may be initially drawn to the vocal line as the most important feature, yet it may just be one element of a larger, complex musical texture.
Especially during the last century, however, scholars have tried to find ways to talk in general about Africa’s rich traditions while always acknowledging the sometimes very subtle differences between countries and ethnic groups. Beyond the recognition that African musicians maintained a vibrant and very distinct art, it has also been noted that this music—especially that of West Africa, from where the majority of enslaved people were taken—has played a significant role in the black cultural Diaspora, with important implications for the music of Latin America, the Caribbean, and a variety of African American traditions. Thus, understanding a few concepts that are shared by much African music helps listeners appreciate not only the continent’s music itself but also a host of related traditions. Fortunately, in today’s digital age, recordings of music from virtually all corners of Africa—both traditional repertoires and styles influenced by Western popular music—are readily available.
The Sahara Desert, which takes up almost the entire northern third of the continent, is perhaps the most important border that comes into play when discussing music in Africa. Countries that lie partly or entirely north of the Sahara (Egypt, Libya, Morocco, Tunisia, etc.) tend to share many qualities with music of the Middle East. The rainforests and grasslands of Sub-Saharan Africa (Ghana, Cameroon, Democratic Republic of Congo, Zambia, etc.) have produced very different traditions.
How does the discussion of the African diaspora extend the passage’s main points?
Does Money Really Buy Happiness?
The question of whether financial resources correlate with, or even precipitate, greater levels of happiness has intrigued scholars for decades. At a superficial level, ample income appears intuitively linked to enhanced well-being: sufficient wealth can secure not only basic necessities like adequate housing, nutritious food, and reliable transportation, but also discretionary expenditures on leisure activities, travel, and personal development. Economists and psychologists have thus frequently operationalized “happiness” as subjective well-being, a construct that encompasses both a cognitive appraisal of life satisfaction and the preponderance of positive over negative affect.
Cross-national survey data reveal a generally positive association between per-capita income and average subjective well-being across diverse economies. Yet this relationship is neither linear nor uniform. Pioneering analyses by Kahneman and Deaton demonstrated a diminishing returns effect: while life evaluation scores continued to rise with higher earnings, moment-to-moment emotional well-being plateaued at an annual income of approximately $75,000–$90,000 USD. Their interpretation invokes the notion of hedonic adaptation, wherein individuals acclimate to new material circumstances, thereby attenuating the marginal utility of additional income.
A more nuanced, recent re-analysis employed experience sampling methodology to differentiate participants by baseline levels of emotional well-being. Three patterns emerged. For individuals in the lowest tertile of emotional well-being, happiness increased steeply with income up to around $100,000, after which gains tapered off, mirroring the classic plateau effect. Surprisingly, those in the mid-range exhibited a nearly proportional happiness–income gradient across all income levels, suggesting that moderate well-being does not engender significant hedonic adaptation. Even more counterintuitively, participants in the highest tertile showed an amplified positive slope beyond the $100,000 threshold, indicating that higher earners with already elevated well-being may leverage additional resources more effectively—perhaps by investing in time-saving services, social activities, or personal growth opportunities that compound their subjective well-being.
Beyond sheer income, a multifactorial model of subjective well-being posits that psychological and social variables exert substantial independent effects. Factors such as self-esteem, quality of interpersonal relationships, perceived autonomy, and optimistic outlook correlate robustly with life satisfaction. Self-Determination Theory further suggests that fulfillment of the innate needs for competence, relatedness, and autonomy mediates the translation of resources into well-being. Moreover, relative income, or one’s earnings compared to salient peers, can eclipse absolute income in predicting satisfaction, highlighting the social comparison mechanisms rooted in Festinger’s social comparison theory.
Methodological considerations also temper interpretations of the income–happiness nexus. Most findings derive from cross-sectional surveys, which cannot definitively establish causality. Longitudinal studies yield mixed evidence: while income increases often precede modest gains in life satisfaction, sustained boosts in emotional well-being are rare. Experimental interventions, such as randomized cash-transfer programs, offer promising but context-dependent insights into the causal impact of financial resources on happiness. Future research might profitably explore income volatility, cultural moderators, and the differential effects of material versus experiential expenditures.
Which of the following best captures the central thesis of the passage?
Does Money Really Buy Happiness?
The question of whether financial resources correlate with, or even precipitate, greater levels of happiness has intrigued scholars for decades. At a superficial level, ample income appears intuitively linked to enhanced well-being: sufficient wealth can secure not only basic necessities like adequate housing, nutritious food, and reliable transportation, but also discretionary expenditures on leisure activities, travel, and personal development. Economists and psychologists have thus frequently operationalized “happiness” as subjective well-being, a construct that encompasses both a cognitive appraisal of life satisfaction and the preponderance of positive over negative affect.
Cross-national survey data reveal a generally positive association between per-capita income and average subjective well-being across diverse economies. Yet this relationship is neither linear nor uniform. Pioneering analyses by Kahneman and Deaton demonstrated a diminishing returns effect: while life evaluation scores continued to rise with higher earnings, moment-to-moment emotional well-being plateaued at an annual income of approximately $75,000–$90,000 USD. Their interpretation invokes the notion of hedonic adaptation, wherein individuals acclimate to new material circumstances, thereby attenuating the marginal utility of additional income.
A more nuanced, recent re-analysis employed experience sampling methodology to differentiate participants by baseline levels of emotional well-being. Three patterns emerged. For individuals in the lowest tertile of emotional well-being, happiness increased steeply with income up to around $100,000, after which gains tapered off, mirroring the classic plateau effect. Surprisingly, those in the mid-range exhibited a nearly proportional happiness–income gradient across all income levels, suggesting that moderate well-being does not engender significant hedonic adaptation. Even more counterintuitively, participants in the highest tertile showed an amplified positive slope beyond the $100,000 threshold, indicating that higher earners with already elevated well-being may leverage additional resources more effectively—perhaps by investing in time-saving services, social activities, or personal growth opportunities that compound their subjective well-being.
Beyond sheer income, a multifactorial model of subjective well-being posits that psychological and social variables exert substantial independent effects. Factors such as self-esteem, quality of interpersonal relationships, perceived autonomy, and optimistic outlook correlate robustly with life satisfaction. Self-Determination Theory further suggests that fulfillment of the innate needs for competence, relatedness, and autonomy mediates the translation of resources into well-being. Moreover, relative income, or one’s earnings compared to salient peers, can eclipse absolute income in predicting satisfaction, highlighting the social comparison mechanisms rooted in Festinger’s social comparison theory.
Methodological considerations also temper interpretations of the income–happiness nexus. Most findings derive from cross-sectional surveys, which cannot definitively establish causality. Longitudinal studies yield mixed evidence: while income increases often precede modest gains in life satisfaction, sustained boosts in emotional well-being are rare. Experimental interventions, such as randomized cash-transfer programs, offer promising but context-dependent insights into the causal impact of financial resources on happiness. Future research might profitably explore income volatility, cultural moderators, and the differential effects of material versus experiential expenditures.
Individuals in the middle tertile of emotional well-being continue to gain happiness with rising income. Which hypothetical finding would most directly challenge this claim?
Does Money Really Buy Happiness?
The question of whether financial resources correlate with, or even precipitate, greater levels of happiness has intrigued scholars for decades. At a superficial level, ample income appears intuitively linked to enhanced well-being: sufficient wealth can secure not only basic necessities like adequate housing, nutritious food, and reliable transportation, but also discretionary expenditures on leisure activities, travel, and personal development. Economists and psychologists have thus frequently operationalized “happiness” as subjective well-being, a construct that encompasses both a cognitive appraisal of life satisfaction and the preponderance of positive over negative affect.
Cross-national survey data reveal a generally positive association between per-capita income and average subjective well-being across diverse economies. Yet this relationship is neither linear nor uniform. Pioneering analyses by Kahneman and Deaton demonstrated a diminishing returns effect: while life evaluation scores continued to rise with higher earnings, moment-to-moment emotional well-being plateaued at an annual income of approximately $75,000–$90,000 USD. Their interpretation invokes the notion of hedonic adaptation, wherein individuals acclimate to new material circumstances, thereby attenuating the marginal utility of additional income.
A more nuanced, recent re-analysis employed experience sampling methodology to differentiate participants by baseline levels of emotional well-being. Three patterns emerged. For individuals in the lowest tertile of emotional well-being, happiness increased steeply with income up to around $100,000, after which gains tapered off, mirroring the classic plateau effect. Surprisingly, those in the mid-range exhibited a nearly proportional happiness–income gradient across all income levels, suggesting that moderate well-being does not engender significant hedonic adaptation. Even more counterintuitively, participants in the highest tertile showed an amplified positive slope beyond the $100,000 threshold, indicating that higher earners with already elevated well-being may leverage additional resources more effectively—perhaps by investing in time-saving services, social activities, or personal growth opportunities that compound their subjective well-being.
Beyond sheer income, a multifactorial model of subjective well-being posits that psychological and social variables exert substantial independent effects. Factors such as self-esteem, quality of interpersonal relationships, perceived autonomy, and optimistic outlook correlate robustly with life satisfaction. Self-Determination Theory further suggests that fulfillment of the innate needs for competence, relatedness, and autonomy mediates the translation of resources into well-being. Moreover, relative income, or one’s earnings compared to salient peers, can eclipse absolute income in predicting satisfaction, highlighting the social comparison mechanisms rooted in Festinger’s social comparison theory.
Methodological considerations also temper interpretations of the income–happiness nexus. Most findings derive from cross-sectional surveys, which cannot definitively establish causality. Longitudinal studies yield mixed evidence: while income increases often precede modest gains in life satisfaction, sustained boosts in emotional well-being are rare. Experimental interventions, such as randomized cash-transfer programs, offer promising but context-dependent insights into the causal impact of financial resources on happiness. Future research might profitably explore income volatility, cultural moderators, and the differential effects of material versus experiential expenditures.
Suppose a longitudinal experiment finds that randomized cash transfers of $10,000 yield only short-term satisfaction spikes that vanish within months for all participants. Which aspect of the author’s argument would this most undermine?
Does Money Really Buy Happiness?
The question of whether financial resources correlate with, or even precipitate, greater levels of happiness has intrigued scholars for decades. At a superficial level, ample income appears intuitively linked to enhanced well-being: sufficient wealth can secure not only basic necessities like adequate housing, nutritious food, and reliable transportation, but also discretionary expenditures on leisure activities, travel, and personal development. Economists and psychologists have thus frequently operationalized “happiness” as subjective well-being, a construct that encompasses both a cognitive appraisal of life satisfaction and the preponderance of positive over negative affect.
Cross-national survey data reveal a generally positive association between per-capita income and average subjective well-being across diverse economies. Yet this relationship is neither linear nor uniform. Pioneering analyses by Kahneman and Deaton demonstrated a diminishing returns effect: while life evaluation scores continued to rise with higher earnings, moment-to-moment emotional well-being plateaued at an annual income of approximately $75,000–$90,000 USD. Their interpretation invokes the notion of hedonic adaptation, wherein individuals acclimate to new material circumstances, thereby attenuating the marginal utility of additional income.
A more nuanced, recent re-analysis employed experience sampling methodology to differentiate participants by baseline levels of emotional well-being. Three patterns emerged. For individuals in the lowest tertile of emotional well-being, happiness increased steeply with income up to around $100,000, after which gains tapered off, mirroring the classic plateau effect. Surprisingly, those in the mid-range exhibited a nearly proportional happiness–income gradient across all income levels, suggesting that moderate well-being does not engender significant hedonic adaptation. Even more counterintuitively, participants in the highest tertile showed an amplified positive slope beyond the $100,000 threshold, indicating that higher earners with already elevated well-being may leverage additional resources more effectively—perhaps by investing in time-saving services, social activities, or personal growth opportunities that compound their subjective well-being.
Beyond sheer income, a multifactorial model of subjective well-being posits that psychological and social variables exert substantial independent effects. Factors such as self-esteem, quality of interpersonal relationships, perceived autonomy, and optimistic outlook correlate robustly with life satisfaction. Self-Determination Theory further suggests that fulfillment of the innate needs for competence, relatedness, and autonomy mediates the translation of resources into well-being. Moreover, relative income, or one’s earnings compared to salient peers, can eclipse absolute income in predicting satisfaction, highlighting the social comparison mechanisms rooted in Festinger’s social comparison theory.
Methodological considerations also temper interpretations of the income–happiness nexus. Most findings derive from cross-sectional surveys, which cannot definitively establish causality. Longitudinal studies yield mixed evidence: while income increases often precede modest gains in life satisfaction, sustained boosts in emotional well-being are rare. Experimental interventions, such as randomized cash-transfer programs, offer promising but context-dependent insights into the causal impact of financial resources on happiness. Future research might profitably explore income volatility, cultural moderators, and the differential effects of material versus experiential expenditures.
What is the author’s primary purpose in writing this passage?
Does Money Really Buy Happiness?
The question of whether financial resources correlate with, or even precipitate, greater levels of happiness has intrigued scholars for decades. At a superficial level, ample income appears intuitively linked to enhanced well-being: sufficient wealth can secure not only basic necessities like adequate housing, nutritious food, and reliable transportation, but also discretionary expenditures on leisure activities, travel, and personal development. Economists and psychologists have thus frequently operationalized “happiness” as subjective well-being, a construct that encompasses both a cognitive appraisal of life satisfaction and the preponderance of positive over negative affect.
Cross-national survey data reveal a generally positive association between per-capita income and average subjective well-being across diverse economies. Yet this relationship is neither linear nor uniform. Pioneering analyses by Kahneman and Deaton demonstrated a diminishing returns effect: while life evaluation scores continued to rise with higher earnings, moment-to-moment emotional well-being plateaued at an annual income of approximately $75,000–$90,000 USD. Their interpretation invokes the notion of hedonic adaptation, wherein individuals acclimate to new material circumstances, thereby attenuating the marginal utility of additional income.
A more nuanced, recent re-analysis employed experience sampling methodology to differentiate participants by baseline levels of emotional well-being. Three patterns emerged. For individuals in the lowest tertile of emotional well-being, happiness increased steeply with income up to around $100,000, after which gains tapered off, mirroring the classic plateau effect. Surprisingly, those in the mid-range exhibited a nearly proportional happiness–income gradient across all income levels, suggesting that moderate well-being does not engender significant hedonic adaptation. Even more counterintuitively, participants in the highest tertile showed an amplified positive slope beyond the $100,000 threshold, indicating that higher earners with already elevated well-being may leverage additional resources more effectively—perhaps by investing in time-saving services, social activities, or personal growth opportunities that compound their subjective well-being.
Beyond sheer income, a multifactorial model of subjective well-being posits that psychological and social variables exert substantial independent effects. Factors such as self-esteem, quality of interpersonal relationships, perceived autonomy, and optimistic outlook correlate robustly with life satisfaction. Self-Determination Theory further suggests that fulfillment of the innate needs for competence, relatedness, and autonomy mediates the translation of resources into well-being. Moreover, relative income, or one’s earnings compared to salient peers, can eclipse absolute income in predicting satisfaction, highlighting the social comparison mechanisms rooted in Festinger’s social comparison theory.
Methodological considerations also temper interpretations of the income–happiness nexus. Most findings derive from cross-sectional surveys, which cannot definitively establish causality. Longitudinal studies yield mixed evidence: while income increases often precede modest gains in life satisfaction, sustained boosts in emotional well-being are rare. Experimental interventions, such as randomized cash-transfer programs, offer promising but context-dependent insights into the causal impact of financial resources on happiness. Future research might profitably explore income volatility, cultural moderators, and the differential effects of material versus experiential expenditures.
Implicit in the discussion of diminishing returns and amplification effects is the assumption that:
Does Money Really Buy Happiness?
The question of whether financial resources correlate with, or even precipitate, greater levels of happiness has intrigued scholars for decades. At a superficial level, ample income appears intuitively linked to enhanced well-being: sufficient wealth can secure not only basic necessities like adequate housing, nutritious food, and reliable transportation, but also discretionary expenditures on leisure activities, travel, and personal development. Economists and psychologists have thus frequently operationalized “happiness” as subjective well-being, a construct that encompasses both a cognitive appraisal of life satisfaction and the preponderance of positive over negative affect.
Cross-national survey data reveal a generally positive association between per-capita income and average subjective well-being across diverse economies. Yet this relationship is neither linear nor uniform. Pioneering analyses by Kahneman and Deaton demonstrated a diminishing returns effect: while life evaluation scores continued to rise with higher earnings, moment-to-moment emotional well-being plateaued at an annual income of approximately $75,000–$90,000 USD. Their interpretation invokes the notion of hedonic adaptation, wherein individuals acclimate to new material circumstances, thereby attenuating the marginal utility of additional income.
A more nuanced, recent re-analysis employed experience sampling methodology to differentiate participants by baseline levels of emotional well-being. Three patterns emerged. For individuals in the lowest tertile of emotional well-being, happiness increased steeply with income up to around $100,000, after which gains tapered off, mirroring the classic plateau effect. Surprisingly, those in the mid-range exhibited a nearly proportional happiness–income gradient across all income levels, suggesting that moderate well-being does not engender significant hedonic adaptation. Even more counterintuitively, participants in the highest tertile showed an amplified positive slope beyond the $100,000 threshold, indicating that higher earners with already elevated well-being may leverage additional resources more effectively—perhaps by investing in time-saving services, social activities, or personal growth opportunities that compound their subjective well-being.
Beyond sheer income, a multifactorial model of subjective well-being posits that psychological and social variables exert substantial independent effects. Factors such as self-esteem, quality of interpersonal relationships, perceived autonomy, and optimistic outlook correlate robustly with life satisfaction. Self-Determination Theory further suggests that fulfillment of the innate needs for competence, relatedness, and autonomy mediates the translation of resources into well-being. Moreover, relative income, or one’s earnings compared to salient peers, can eclipse absolute income in predicting satisfaction, highlighting the social comparison mechanisms rooted in Festinger’s social comparison theory.
Methodological considerations also temper interpretations of the income–happiness nexus. Most findings derive from cross-sectional surveys, which cannot definitively establish causality. Longitudinal studies yield mixed evidence: while income increases often precede modest gains in life satisfaction, sustained boosts in emotional well-being are rare. Experimental interventions, such as randomized cash-transfer programs, offer promising but context-dependent insights into the causal impact of financial resources on happiness. Future research might profitably explore income volatility, cultural moderators, and the differential effects of material versus experiential expenditures.
Imagine a community where cultural values emphasize communal bonding over individual wealth. The author would most likely predict that additional income in this context would:
Non-authority group decisions (acephalous)
Any group without an official leader is acephalous. When you go out with a group of friends, how do you make decisions about where to go, how to get there, and who will pay for what? Probably someone makes a suggestion, people chime in with their own ideas, and you discuss things as a group and reach an informal consensus. This is what many small groups do.
Until the early 20th century, many Europeans believed that all humans were essentially selfish and would relentlessly pursue their own personal interests without the moralizing forces of civilization to force them to be more cooperative. They assumed that any non-Western society without formal leadership and codified laws would necessarily be a chaotic free-for-all of greed, coercion, and violence. Anthropologists discovered otherwise. Just as you and your friends easily make decisions without electing a leader or writing down rules, people who live in small communities do just fine without formal leadership and law.
In such communities, power is not concentrated in any formal position of leadership but rather diffused throughout society. Elders or people with experience in certain areas may give valuable advice, but they do not have the power to enforce their judgments. Their authority is based on persuasive power—that is, their ability to convince others and build group consensus. Certainly in any group there will be some people who want to exert power or force their own ideas on others, but without a formal mechanism allowing such people to enforce their will, others can generally ignore or evade them. The result is a mostly cooperative social order rather than chaos and strife.
Fortes and Evans-Pritchard described three types of acephalous societies. The first corresponds to what we have called band societies, or hunter-gatherers living in small groups of 20 to 30 people. Such groups are strongly egalitarian, stressing equality, cooperation, and sharing. People make decisions through discussion and consensus. Those with knowledge and experience in particular areas may exert influence in those areas, but there are no formal positions of leadership.
Social groups often face decisions regarding their mode of subsistence. As just one example, nomadic hunter-gatherer groups must decide where to camp and how long to stay there before moving on. Frank Marlowe, an anthropologist who studies the Hadza, a hunger-gatherer society in Northern Tanzania, describes how men sometimes suggest that it’s time to move on, but the group won’t move “until the women are good and ready”. As the primary gatherers, women are best able to gauge whether food resources have been depleted in the area. When they have to walk too far to gather food, they agree that it’s time to move camp. On a daily basis, women going out in gathering groups must decide where to go and which resources to target, making such decisions through a quick conversation.
Most people know someone in their family or group of friends who likes to tell others the best way to do things, and perhaps even wants to get their own way all of the time. This is the case in many small groups. Among the Hadza, if someone tries to tell other people what to do, the others just ignore that person. If the problem persists, people might just move to another camp to get away from the bossy person. Government officials and missionaries who try to tell the Hadza what to do are often met with the same general tendency to ignore or avoid potential authority figures.
Which hypothetical finding would most directly undermine the anthropological evidence presented?
Non-authority group decisions (acephalous)
Any group without an official leader is acephalous. When you go out with a group of friends, how do you make decisions about where to go, how to get there, and who will pay for what? Probably someone makes a suggestion, people chime in with their own ideas, and you discuss things as a group and reach an informal consensus. This is what many small groups do.
Until the early 20th century, many Europeans believed that all humans were essentially selfish and would relentlessly pursue their own personal interests without the moralizing forces of civilization to force them to be more cooperative. They assumed that any non-Western society without formal leadership and codified laws would necessarily be a chaotic free-for-all of greed, coercion, and violence. Anthropologists discovered otherwise. Just as you and your friends easily make decisions without electing a leader or writing down rules, people who live in small communities do just fine without formal leadership and law.
In such communities, power is not concentrated in any formal position of leadership but rather diffused throughout society. Elders or people with experience in certain areas may give valuable advice, but they do not have the power to enforce their judgments. Their authority is based on persuasive power—that is, their ability to convince others and build group consensus. Certainly in any group there will be some people who want to exert power or force their own ideas on others, but without a formal mechanism allowing such people to enforce their will, others can generally ignore or evade them. The result is a mostly cooperative social order rather than chaos and strife.
Fortes and Evans-Pritchard described three types of acephalous societies. The first corresponds to what we have called band societies, or hunter-gatherers living in small groups of 20 to 30 people. Such groups are strongly egalitarian, stressing equality, cooperation, and sharing. People make decisions through discussion and consensus. Those with knowledge and experience in particular areas may exert influence in those areas, but there are no formal positions of leadership.
Social groups often face decisions regarding their mode of subsistence. As just one example, nomadic hunter-gatherer groups must decide where to camp and how long to stay there before moving on. Frank Marlowe, an anthropologist who studies the Hadza, a hunger-gatherer society in Northern Tanzania, describes how men sometimes suggest that it’s time to move on, but the group won’t move “until the women are good and ready”. As the primary gatherers, women are best able to gauge whether food resources have been depleted in the area. When they have to walk too far to gather food, they agree that it’s time to move camp. On a daily basis, women going out in gathering groups must decide where to go and which resources to target, making such decisions through a quick conversation.
Most people know someone in their family or group of friends who likes to tell others the best way to do things, and perhaps even wants to get their own way all of the time. This is the case in many small groups. Among the Hadza, if someone tries to tell other people what to do, the others just ignore that person. If the problem persists, people might just move to another camp to get away from the bossy person. Government officials and missionaries who try to tell the Hadza what to do are often met with the same general tendency to ignore or avoid potential authority figures.
Which claim best encapsulates the author’s main argument?
Non-authority group decisions (acephalous)
Any group without an official leader is acephalous. When you go out with a group of friends, how do you make decisions about where to go, how to get there, and who will pay for what? Probably someone makes a suggestion, people chime in with their own ideas, and you discuss things as a group and reach an informal consensus. This is what many small groups do.
Until the early 20th century, many Europeans believed that all humans were essentially selfish and would relentlessly pursue their own personal interests without the moralizing forces of civilization to force them to be more cooperative. They assumed that any non-Western society without formal leadership and codified laws would necessarily be a chaotic free-for-all of greed, coercion, and violence. Anthropologists discovered otherwise. Just as you and your friends easily make decisions without electing a leader or writing down rules, people who live in small communities do just fine without formal leadership and law.
In such communities, power is not concentrated in any formal position of leadership but rather diffused throughout society. Elders or people with experience in certain areas may give valuable advice, but they do not have the power to enforce their judgments. Their authority is based on persuasive power—that is, their ability to convince others and build group consensus. Certainly in any group there will be some people who want to exert power or force their own ideas on others, but without a formal mechanism allowing such people to enforce their will, others can generally ignore or evade them. The result is a mostly cooperative social order rather than chaos and strife.
Fortes and Evans-Pritchard described three types of acephalous societies. The first corresponds to what we have called band societies, or hunter-gatherers living in small groups of 20 to 30 people. Such groups are strongly egalitarian, stressing equality, cooperation, and sharing. People make decisions through discussion and consensus. Those with knowledge and experience in particular areas may exert influence in those areas, but there are no formal positions of leadership.
Social groups often face decisions regarding their mode of subsistence. As just one example, nomadic hunter-gatherer groups must decide where to camp and how long to stay there before moving on. Frank Marlowe, an anthropologist who studies the Hadza, a hunger-gatherer society in Northern Tanzania, describes how men sometimes suggest that it’s time to move on, but the group won’t move “until the women are good and ready”. As the primary gatherers, women are best able to gauge whether food resources have been depleted in the area. When they have to walk too far to gather food, they agree that it’s time to move camp. On a daily basis, women going out in gathering groups must decide where to go and which resources to target, making such decisions through a quick conversation.
Most people know someone in their family or group of friends who likes to tell others the best way to do things, and perhaps even wants to get their own way all of the time. This is the case in many small groups. Among the Hadza, if someone tries to tell other people what to do, the others just ignore that person. If the problem persists, people might just move to another camp to get away from the bossy person. Government officials and missionaries who try to tell the Hadza what to do are often met with the same general tendency to ignore or avoid potential authority figures.
What is the author’s likely purpose in contrasting 19th-century European beliefs with anthropological findings?
Non-authority group decisions (acephalous)
Any group without an official leader is acephalous. When you go out with a group of friends, how do you make decisions about where to go, how to get there, and who will pay for what? Probably someone makes a suggestion, people chime in with their own ideas, and you discuss things as a group and reach an informal consensus. This is what many small groups do.
Until the early 20th century, many Europeans believed that all humans were essentially selfish and would relentlessly pursue their own personal interests without the moralizing forces of civilization to force them to be more cooperative. They assumed that any non-Western society without formal leadership and codified laws would necessarily be a chaotic free-for-all of greed, coercion, and violence. Anthropologists discovered otherwise. Just as you and your friends easily make decisions without electing a leader or writing down rules, people who live in small communities do just fine without formal leadership and law.
In such communities, power is not concentrated in any formal position of leadership but rather diffused throughout society. Elders or people with experience in certain areas may give valuable advice, but they do not have the power to enforce their judgments. Their authority is based on persuasive power—that is, their ability to convince others and build group consensus. Certainly in any group there will be some people who want to exert power or force their own ideas on others, but without a formal mechanism allowing such people to enforce their will, others can generally ignore or evade them. The result is a mostly cooperative social order rather than chaos and strife.
Fortes and Evans-Pritchard described three types of acephalous societies. The first corresponds to what we have called band societies, or hunter-gatherers living in small groups of 20 to 30 people. Such groups are strongly egalitarian, stressing equality, cooperation, and sharing. People make decisions through discussion and consensus. Those with knowledge and experience in particular areas may exert influence in those areas, but there are no formal positions of leadership.
Social groups often face decisions regarding their mode of subsistence. As just one example, nomadic hunter-gatherer groups must decide where to camp and how long to stay there before moving on. Frank Marlowe, an anthropologist who studies the Hadza, a hunger-gatherer society in Northern Tanzania, describes how men sometimes suggest that it’s time to move on, but the group won’t move “until the women are good and ready”. As the primary gatherers, women are best able to gauge whether food resources have been depleted in the area. When they have to walk too far to gather food, they agree that it’s time to move camp. On a daily basis, women going out in gathering groups must decide where to go and which resources to target, making such decisions through a quick conversation.
Most people know someone in their family or group of friends who likes to tell others the best way to do things, and perhaps even wants to get their own way all of the time. This is the case in many small groups. Among the Hadza, if someone tries to tell other people what to do, the others just ignore that person. If the problem persists, people might just move to another camp to get away from the bossy person. Government officials and missionaries who try to tell the Hadza what to do are often met with the same general tendency to ignore or avoid potential authority figures.
Based on the Hadza example, what inference can be made about gender roles in decision-making?
Non-authority group decisions (acephalous)
Any group without an official leader is acephalous. When you go out with a group of friends, how do you make decisions about where to go, how to get there, and who will pay for what? Probably someone makes a suggestion, people chime in with their own ideas, and you discuss things as a group and reach an informal consensus. This is what many small groups do.
Until the early 20th century, many Europeans believed that all humans were essentially selfish and would relentlessly pursue their own personal interests without the moralizing forces of civilization to force them to be more cooperative. They assumed that any non-Western society without formal leadership and codified laws would necessarily be a chaotic free-for-all of greed, coercion, and violence. Anthropologists discovered otherwise. Just as you and your friends easily make decisions without electing a leader or writing down rules, people who live in small communities do just fine without formal leadership and law.
In such communities, power is not concentrated in any formal position of leadership but rather diffused throughout society. Elders or people with experience in certain areas may give valuable advice, but they do not have the power to enforce their judgments. Their authority is based on persuasive power—that is, their ability to convince others and build group consensus. Certainly in any group there will be some people who want to exert power or force their own ideas on others, but without a formal mechanism allowing such people to enforce their will, others can generally ignore or evade them. The result is a mostly cooperative social order rather than chaos and strife.
Fortes and Evans-Pritchard described three types of acephalous societies. The first corresponds to what we have called band societies, or hunter-gatherers living in small groups of 20 to 30 people. Such groups are strongly egalitarian, stressing equality, cooperation, and sharing. People make decisions through discussion and consensus. Those with knowledge and experience in particular areas may exert influence in those areas, but there are no formal positions of leadership.
Social groups often face decisions regarding their mode of subsistence. As just one example, nomadic hunter-gatherer groups must decide where to camp and how long to stay there before moving on. Frank Marlowe, an anthropologist who studies the Hadza, a hunger-gatherer society in Northern Tanzania, describes how men sometimes suggest that it’s time to move on, but the group won’t move “until the women are good and ready”. As the primary gatherers, women are best able to gauge whether food resources have been depleted in the area. When they have to walk too far to gather food, they agree that it’s time to move camp. On a daily basis, women going out in gathering groups must decide where to go and which resources to target, making such decisions through a quick conversation.
Most people know someone in their family or group of friends who likes to tell others the best way to do things, and perhaps even wants to get their own way all of the time. This is the case in many small groups. Among the Hadza, if someone tries to tell other people what to do, the others just ignore that person. If the problem persists, people might just move to another camp to get away from the bossy person. Government officials and missionaries who try to tell the Hadza what to do are often met with the same general tendency to ignore or avoid potential authority figures.
If the Hadza’s gathering knowledge were suddenly lost, one would expect that:
Non-authority group decisions (acephalous)
Any group without an official leader is acephalous. When you go out with a group of friends, how do you make decisions about where to go, how to get there, and who will pay for what? Probably someone makes a suggestion, people chime in with their own ideas, and you discuss things as a group and reach an informal consensus. This is what many small groups do.
Until the early 20th century, many Europeans believed that all humans were essentially selfish and would relentlessly pursue their own personal interests without the moralizing forces of civilization to force them to be more cooperative. They assumed that any non-Western society without formal leadership and codified laws would necessarily be a chaotic free-for-all of greed, coercion, and violence. Anthropologists discovered otherwise. Just as you and your friends easily make decisions without electing a leader or writing down rules, people who live in small communities do just fine without formal leadership and law.
In such communities, power is not concentrated in any formal position of leadership but rather diffused throughout society. Elders or people with experience in certain areas may give valuable advice, but they do not have the power to enforce their judgments. Their authority is based on persuasive power—that is, their ability to convince others and build group consensus. Certainly in any group there will be some people who want to exert power or force their own ideas on others, but without a formal mechanism allowing such people to enforce their will, others can generally ignore or evade them. The result is a mostly cooperative social order rather than chaos and strife.
Fortes and Evans-Pritchard described three types of acephalous societies. The first corresponds to what we have called band societies, or hunter-gatherers living in small groups of 20 to 30 people. Such groups are strongly egalitarian, stressing equality, cooperation, and sharing. People make decisions through discussion and consensus. Those with knowledge and experience in particular areas may exert influence in those areas, but there are no formal positions of leadership.
Social groups often face decisions regarding their mode of subsistence. As just one example, nomadic hunter-gatherer groups must decide where to camp and how long to stay there before moving on. Frank Marlowe, an anthropologist who studies the Hadza, a hunger-gatherer society in Northern Tanzania, describes how men sometimes suggest that it’s time to move on, but the group won’t move “until the women are good and ready”. As the primary gatherers, women are best able to gauge whether food resources have been depleted in the area. When they have to walk too far to gather food, they agree that it’s time to move camp. On a daily basis, women going out in gathering groups must decide where to go and which resources to target, making such decisions through a quick conversation.
Most people know someone in their family or group of friends who likes to tell others the best way to do things, and perhaps even wants to get their own way all of the time. This is the case in many small groups. Among the Hadza, if someone tries to tell other people what to do, the others just ignore that person. If the problem persists, people might just move to another camp to get away from the bossy person. Government officials and missionaries who try to tell the Hadza what to do are often met with the same general tendency to ignore or avoid potential authority figures.
Which additional evidence would most strengthen the author’s position?
Tattooing
Tattooing is a form of body art that has been practiced for thousands of years. Tattoo is a Polynesian term. Polynesian tribes and people used tattoos to establish identity, personality, and status. The Maori, an Indigenous Polynesian people of New Zealand, have traditionally used tattoos as an expression of identity and cultural affiliation. Examples of this can also be found in the Tonga and Samoa warrior cultures, in which specific tattoo designs and placement on the body were used to demonstrate a warrior’s affiliation with a particular group of elite warriors. In the mid-20th century, American sailors used tattoos to represent personal interests, aspects of their identity, and group affiliation. Such tattoos might include representations of a unit mascot, places individuals have visited, or things they found beauty in.
There is clear evidence of the practice of modifying the body with markings dating as far back as 5,300 to 3,000 years ago. Such markings are still practiced by some of these same cultures today, much like the Maori people. Ötzi, a naturally mummified man found in the Ötzal Alps whose death has been dated to around 3250 BCE, is the first known tattooed human. His tattoos were of lines and crosses across his body. They are believed to have been made by creating incisions in the skin and rubbing charcoal into the incisions.
Tattooing can be a way for individuals to express membership in a larger community. Not only are communities formed around having body art, but some may obtain tattoos as a mark of belonging to a certain community (e.g., tattoos of a cross as a symbol of the Christian faith). Tattoos in recent decades have come to serve many purposes, including memorializing loved ones, expressing aesthetic tastes, depicting personal histories, expressing emotions or feelings, and symbolizing rebellion.
A modified approach to the classic tattoo can be found in the art of scarification. Scarification is the branding, burning, or etching of designs into the skin. Scarification marks often identify someone as being affiliated with subcultures or other groups. The practice is also used to represent individual growth or the growth and development of a group or subset of a society.
Makeup has been an expression of visual art since prehistoric times, used to conceal flaws and augment or portray cultural ideals of beauty. It is often a sociocultural delineation of wealth and success. Piercings are used for many of the same reasons and have been found in the earliest of ancient African mummies. They may be seen as an expression of individuality or of identity and affiliation.
Another example of body art is body painting. In some cultures, body painting is limited to the face, while others cover their entire bodies. The painting of the whole body is a common practice among Indigenous Australian peoples. The purposes of this type of body art include, but are not limited to, subcultural identification and announcements of social status and accomplishments. The painting can be temporary or semipermanent, achieved through various types of paints and stains. Body painting follows uniform patterns and styles in some cultures and is independently driven in others. The specific designs might reveal an individual’s position within their family, membership in a group, social position, tribal identity, and even precise ancestral history.
Which of the following best captures the central idea of the passage?
Tattooing
Tattooing is a form of body art that has been practiced for thousands of years. Tattoo is a Polynesian term. Polynesian tribes and people used tattoos to establish identity, personality, and status. The Maori, an Indigenous Polynesian people of New Zealand, have traditionally used tattoos as an expression of identity and cultural affiliation. Examples of this can also be found in the Tonga and Samoa warrior cultures, in which specific tattoo designs and placement on the body were used to demonstrate a warrior’s affiliation with a particular group of elite warriors. In the mid-20th century, American sailors used tattoos to represent personal interests, aspects of their identity, and group affiliation. Such tattoos might include representations of a unit mascot, places individuals have visited, or things they found beauty in.
There is clear evidence of the practice of modifying the body with markings dating as far back as 5,300 to 3,000 years ago. Such markings are still practiced by some of these same cultures today, much like the Maori people. Ötzi, a naturally mummified man found in the Ötzal Alps whose death has been dated to around 3250 BCE, is the first known tattooed human. His tattoos were of lines and crosses across his body. They are believed to have been made by creating incisions in the skin and rubbing charcoal into the incisions.
Tattooing can be a way for individuals to express membership in a larger community. Not only are communities formed around having body art, but some may obtain tattoos as a mark of belonging to a certain community (e.g., tattoos of a cross as a symbol of the Christian faith). Tattoos in recent decades have come to serve many purposes, including memorializing loved ones, expressing aesthetic tastes, depicting personal histories, expressing emotions or feelings, and symbolizing rebellion.
A modified approach to the classic tattoo can be found in the art of scarification. Scarification is the branding, burning, or etching of designs into the skin. Scarification marks often identify someone as being affiliated with subcultures or other groups. The practice is also used to represent individual growth or the growth and development of a group or subset of a society.
Makeup has been an expression of visual art since prehistoric times, used to conceal flaws and augment or portray cultural ideals of beauty. It is often a sociocultural delineation of wealth and success. Piercings are used for many of the same reasons and have been found in the earliest of ancient African mummies. They may be seen as an expression of individuality or of identity and affiliation.
Another example of body art is body painting. In some cultures, body painting is limited to the face, while others cover their entire bodies. The painting of the whole body is a common practice among Indigenous Australian peoples. The purposes of this type of body art include, but are not limited to, subcultural identification and announcements of social status and accomplishments. The painting can be temporary or semipermanent, achieved through various types of paints and stains. Body painting follows uniform patterns and styles in some cultures and is independently driven in others. The specific designs might reveal an individual’s position within their family, membership in a group, social position, tribal identity, and even precise ancestral history."
Which hypothetical discovery would most challenge the claim that tattooing is an ancient practice?
Tattooing
Tattooing is a form of body art that has been practiced for thousands of years. Tattoo is a Polynesian term. Polynesian tribes and people used tattoos to establish identity, personality, and status. The Maori, an Indigenous Polynesian people of New Zealand, have traditionally used tattoos as an expression of identity and cultural affiliation. Examples of this can also be found in the Tonga and Samoa warrior cultures, in which specific tattoo designs and placement on the body were used to demonstrate a warrior’s affiliation with a particular group of elite warriors. In the mid-20th century, American sailors used tattoos to represent personal interests, aspects of their identity, and group affiliation. Such tattoos might include representations of a unit mascot, places individuals have visited, or things they found beauty in.
There is clear evidence of the practice of modifying the body with markings dating as far back as 5,300 to 3,000 years ago. Such markings are still practiced by some of these same cultures today, much like the Maori people. Ötzi, a naturally mummified man found in the Ötzal Alps whose death has been dated to around 3250 BCE, is the first known tattooed human. His tattoos were of lines and crosses across his body. They are believed to have been made by creating incisions in the skin and rubbing charcoal into the incisions.
Tattooing can be a way for individuals to express membership in a larger community. Not only are communities formed around having body art, but some may obtain tattoos as a mark of belonging to a certain community (e.g., tattoos of a cross as a symbol of the Christian faith). Tattoos in recent decades have come to serve many purposes, including memorializing loved ones, expressing aesthetic tastes, depicting personal histories, expressing emotions or feelings, and symbolizing rebellion.
A modified approach to the classic tattoo can be found in the art of scarification. Scarification is the branding, burning, or etching of designs into the skin. Scarification marks often identify someone as being affiliated with subcultures or other groups. The practice is also used to represent individual growth or the growth and development of a group or subset of a society.
Makeup has been an expression of visual art since prehistoric times, used to conceal flaws and augment or portray cultural ideals of beauty. It is often a sociocultural delineation of wealth and success. Piercings are used for many of the same reasons and have been found in the earliest of ancient African mummies. They may be seen as an expression of individuality or of identity and affiliation.
Another example of body art is body painting. In some cultures, body painting is limited to the face, while others cover their entire bodies. The painting of the whole body is a common practice among Indigenous Australian peoples. The purposes of this type of body art include, but are not limited to, subcultural identification and announcements of social status and accomplishments. The painting can be temporary or semipermanent, achieved through various types of paints and stains. Body painting follows uniform patterns and styles in some cultures and is independently driven in others. The specific designs might reveal an individual’s position within their family, membership in a group, social position, tribal identity, and even precise ancestral history.
What is the author’s purpose in detailing makeup and piercings after tattoos and scarification?
Tattooing
Tattooing is a form of body art that has been practiced for thousands of years. Tattoo is a Polynesian term. Polynesian tribes and people used tattoos to establish identity, personality, and status. The Maori, an Indigenous Polynesian people of New Zealand, have traditionally used tattoos as an expression of identity and cultural affiliation. Examples of this can also be found in the Tonga and Samoa warrior cultures, in which specific tattoo designs and placement on the body were used to demonstrate a warrior’s affiliation with a particular group of elite warriors. In the mid-20th century, American sailors used tattoos to represent personal interests, aspects of their identity, and group affiliation. Such tattoos might include representations of a unit mascot, places individuals have visited, or things they found beauty in.
There is clear evidence of the practice of modifying the body with markings dating as far back as 5,300 to 3,000 years ago. Such markings are still practiced by some of these same cultures today, much like the Maori people. Ötzi, a naturally mummified man found in the Ötzal Alps whose death has been dated to around 3250 BCE, is the first known tattooed human. His tattoos were of lines and crosses across his body. They are believed to have been made by creating incisions in the skin and rubbing charcoal into the incisions.
Tattooing can be a way for individuals to express membership in a larger community. Not only are communities formed around having body art, but some may obtain tattoos as a mark of belonging to a certain community (e.g., tattoos of a cross as a symbol of the Christian faith). Tattoos in recent decades have come to serve many purposes, including memorializing loved ones, expressing aesthetic tastes, depicting personal histories, expressing emotions or feelings, and symbolizing rebellion.
A modified approach to the classic tattoo can be found in the art of scarification. Scarification is the branding, burning, or etching of designs into the skin. Scarification marks often identify someone as being affiliated with subcultures or other groups. The practice is also used to represent individual growth or the growth and development of a group or subset of a society.
Makeup has been an expression of visual art since prehistoric times, used to conceal flaws and augment or portray cultural ideals of beauty. It is often a sociocultural delineation of wealth and success. Piercings are used for many of the same reasons and have been found in the earliest of ancient African mummies. They may be seen as an expression of individuality or of identity and affiliation.
Another example of body art is body painting. In some cultures, body painting is limited to the face, while others cover their entire bodies. The painting of the whole body is a common practice among Indigenous Australian peoples. The purposes of this type of body art include, but are not limited to, subcultural identification and announcements of social status and accomplishments. The painting can be temporary or semipermanent, achieved through various types of paints and stains. Body painting follows uniform patterns and styles in some cultures and is independently driven in others. The specific designs might reveal an individual’s position within their family, membership in a group, social position, tribal identity, and even precise ancestral history.
Implicit in the description of Indigenous Australian body painting is the assumption that:
Tattooing
Tattooing is a form of body art that has been practiced for thousands of years. Tattoo is a Polynesian term. Polynesian tribes and people used tattoos to establish identity, personality, and status. The Maori, an Indigenous Polynesian people of New Zealand, have traditionally used tattoos as an expression of identity and cultural affiliation. Examples of this can also be found in the Tonga and Samoa warrior cultures, in which specific tattoo designs and placement on the body were used to demonstrate a warrior’s affiliation with a particular group of elite warriors. In the mid-20th century, American sailors used tattoos to represent personal interests, aspects of their identity, and group affiliation. Such tattoos might include representations of a unit mascot, places individuals have visited, or things they found beauty in.
There is clear evidence of the practice of modifying the body with markings dating as far back as 5,300 to 3,000 years ago. Such markings are still practiced by some of these same cultures today, much like the Maori people. Ötzi, a naturally mummified man found in the Ötzal Alps whose death has been dated to around 3250 BCE, is the first known tattooed human. His tattoos were of lines and crosses across his body. They are believed to have been made by creating incisions in the skin and rubbing charcoal into the incisions.
Tattooing can be a way for individuals to express membership in a larger community. Not only are communities formed around having body art, but some may obtain tattoos as a mark of belonging to a certain community (e.g., tattoos of a cross as a symbol of the Christian faith). Tattoos in recent decades have come to serve many purposes, including memorializing loved ones, expressing aesthetic tastes, depicting personal histories, expressing emotions or feelings, and symbolizing rebellion.
A modified approach to the classic tattoo can be found in the art of scarification. Scarification is the branding, burning, or etching of designs into the skin. Scarification marks often identify someone as being affiliated with subcultures or other groups. The practice is also used to represent individual growth or the growth and development of a group or subset of a society.
Makeup has been an expression of visual art since prehistoric times, used to conceal flaws and augment or portray cultural ideals of beauty. It is often a sociocultural delineation of wealth and success. Piercings are used for many of the same reasons and have been found in the earliest of ancient African mummies. They may be seen as an expression of individuality or of identity and affiliation.
Another example of body art is body painting. In some cultures, body painting is limited to the face, while others cover their entire bodies. The painting of the whole body is a common practice among Indigenous Australian peoples. The purposes of this type of body art include, but are not limited to, subcultural identification and announcements of social status and accomplishments. The painting can be temporary or semipermanent, achieved through various types of paints and stains. Body painting follows uniform patterns and styles in some cultures and is independently driven in others. The specific designs might reveal an individual’s position within their family, membership in a group, social position, tribal identity, and even precise ancestral history.
What tone does the author employ when discussing the various forms of body modification?
Tattooing
Tattooing is a form of body art that has been practiced for thousands of years. Tattoo is a Polynesian term. Polynesian tribes and people used tattoos to establish identity, personality, and status. The Maori, an Indigenous Polynesian people of New Zealand, have traditionally used tattoos as an expression of identity and cultural affiliation. Examples of this can also be found in the Tonga and Samoa warrior cultures, in which specific tattoo designs and placement on the body were used to demonstrate a warrior’s affiliation with a particular group of elite warriors. In the mid-20th century, American sailors used tattoos to represent personal interests, aspects of their identity, and group affiliation. Such tattoos might include representations of a unit mascot, places individuals have visited, or things they found beauty in.
There is clear evidence of the practice of modifying the body with markings dating as far back as 5,300 to 3,000 years ago. Such markings are still practiced by some of these same cultures today, much like the Maori people. Ötzi, a naturally mummified man found in the Ötzal Alps whose death has been dated to around 3250 BCE, is the first known tattooed human. His tattoos were of lines and crosses across his body. They are believed to have been made by creating incisions in the skin and rubbing charcoal into the incisions.
Tattooing can be a way for individuals to express membership in a larger community. Not only are communities formed around having body art, but some may obtain tattoos as a mark of belonging to a certain community (e.g., tattoos of a cross as a symbol of the Christian faith). Tattoos in recent decades have come to serve many purposes, including memorializing loved ones, expressing aesthetic tastes, depicting personal histories, expressing emotions or feelings, and symbolizing rebellion.
A modified approach to the classic tattoo can be found in the art of scarification. Scarification is the branding, burning, or etching of designs into the skin. Scarification marks often identify someone as being affiliated with subcultures or other groups. The practice is also used to represent individual growth or the growth and development of a group or subset of a society.
Makeup has been an expression of visual art since prehistoric times, used to conceal flaws and augment or portray cultural ideals of beauty. It is often a sociocultural delineation of wealth and success. Piercings are used for many of the same reasons and have been found in the earliest of ancient African mummies. They may be seen as an expression of individuality or of identity and affiliation.
Another example of body art is body painting. In some cultures, body painting is limited to the face, while others cover their entire bodies. The painting of the whole body is a common practice among Indigenous Australian peoples. The purposes of this type of body art include, but are not limited to, subcultural identification and announcements of social status and accomplishments. The painting can be temporary or semipermanent, achieved through various types of paints and stains. Body painting follows uniform patterns and styles in some cultures and is independently driven in others. The specific designs might reveal an individual’s position within their family, membership in a group, social position, tribal identity, and even precise ancestral history.
Which of the following comparisons best illustrates how henna body painting and Polynesian tattoos serve similar cultural functions yet differ in permanence?
Social Hierarchy and Reforms in Spanish America
By the late eighteenth century Madrid had redrawn its previously-named Bourbon empire into four vast viceroyalties—New Spain, Peru, New Granada, and Río de la Plata—while installing peninsular (Spanish-born) intendants who answered only to the Crown. These expatriate officials, often socially and intellectually inferior to the native-born creole elite they governed, monopolized the highest civil and military posts. Although the reforms generated short-term material gains for landowners and merchants, they also codified a racialized hierarchy in which wealth could not purchase status. The resulting humiliation produced a creole ideology of self-government that no subsequent patchwork of concessions could placate.
The Bourbons compounded this alienation by transmitting Enlightenment texts across the Atlantic even as they barred creoles from meaningful political participation. Literacy surged among mixed-race populations, and pamphlets extolling popular sovereignty circulated alongside reports of North American and French upheavals. Creole intellectuals eagerly adopted these ideals—yet limited their egalitarian rhetoric to white males of Spanish descent, revealing that their quarrel was with peninsular privilege rather than with colonial caste itself. Nevertheless, a radical principle had entered the colonial bloodstream: legitimate authority must rest on local consent, not metropolitan decree.
Administrative grievances soon merged with economic antagonisms. Bourbon “free-trade” decrees merely freed peninsular manufacturers to flood colonial markets while preserving Crown monopolies over staples such as tobacco. Tax hikes designed to finance imperial wars ignited mass revolts—the 1780–81 uprising of Túpac Amaru II in Peru and the Comunero movement in New Granada. Although creole militias ultimately sided with Spain to crush these insurrections—thereby safeguarding their own racial supremacy—the episodes demonstrated that Madrid could no longer govern without coercion. By expelling the Jesuits in 1767, the monarchy even alienated the order that had educated many creole leaders and mitigated abuses against Indigenous laborers.
Taken together, these political, intellectual, and economic policies reveal a consistent Bourbon strategy: centralize authority and extract wealth while denying colonial subjects a commensurate share of power or dignity. Far from stabilizing the empire, such measures convinced creoles that independence offered the only path to recover honor and secure their interests. Thus the Bourbon Reforms, though intended to strengthen imperial cohesion, inadvertently furnished Spanish America with both the ideological arsenal and the social resentments necessary for the revolutions that would dismantle the empire within a generation.
Which statement best captures the passage’s central contention regarding the Bourbon Reforms?
Social Hierarchy and Reforms in Spanish America
By the late eighteenth century Madrid had redrawn its previously-named Bourbon empire into four vast viceroyalties—New Spain, Peru, New Granada, and Río de la Plata—while installing peninsular (Spanish-born) intendants who answered only to the Crown. These expatriate officials, often socially and intellectually inferior to the native-born creole elite they governed, monopolized the highest civil and military posts. Although the reforms generated short-term material gains for landowners and merchants, they also codified a racialized hierarchy in which wealth could not purchase status. The resulting humiliation produced a creole ideology of self-government that no subsequent patchwork of concessions could placate.
The Bourbons compounded this alienation by transmitting Enlightenment texts across the Atlantic even as they barred creoles from meaningful political participation. Literacy surged among mixed-race populations, and pamphlets extolling popular sovereignty circulated alongside reports of North American and French upheavals. Creole intellectuals eagerly adopted these ideals—yet limited their egalitarian rhetoric to white males of Spanish descent, revealing that their quarrel was with peninsular privilege rather than with colonial caste itself. Nevertheless, a radical principle had entered the colonial bloodstream: legitimate authority must rest on local consent, not metropolitan decree.
Administrative grievances soon merged with economic antagonisms. Bourbon “free-trade” decrees merely freed peninsular manufacturers to flood colonial markets while preserving Crown monopolies over staples such as tobacco. Tax hikes designed to finance imperial wars ignited mass revolts—the 1780–81 uprising of Túpac Amaru II in Peru and the Comunero movement in New Granada. Although creole militias ultimately sided with Spain to crush these insurrections—thereby safeguarding their own racial supremacy—the episodes demonstrated that Madrid could no longer govern without coercion. By expelling the Jesuits in 1767, the monarchy even alienated the order that had educated many creole leaders and mitigated abuses against Indigenous laborers.
Taken together, these political, intellectual, and economic policies reveal a consistent Bourbon strategy: centralize authority and extract wealth while denying colonial subjects a commensurate share of power or dignity. Far from stabilizing the empire, such measures convinced creoles that independence offered the only path to recover honor and secure their interests. Thus the Bourbon Reforms, though intended to strengthen imperial cohesion, inadvertently furnished Spanish America with both the ideological arsenal and the social resentments necessary for the revolutions that would dismantle the empire within a generation.
The passage asserts that Enlightenment ideas in Spanish America were adopted chiefly by which constituency, and for what limited purpose?
Social Hierarchy and Reforms in Spanish America
By the late eighteenth century Madrid had redrawn its previously-named Bourbon empire into four vast viceroyalties—New Spain, Peru, New Granada, and Río de la Plata—while installing peninsular (Spanish-born) intendants who answered only to the Crown. These expatriate officials, often socially and intellectually inferior to the native-born creole elite they governed, monopolized the highest civil and military posts. Although the reforms generated short-term material gains for landowners and merchants, they also codified a racialized hierarchy in which wealth could not purchase status. The resulting humiliation produced a creole ideology of self-government that no subsequent patchwork of concessions could placate.
The Bourbons compounded this alienation by transmitting Enlightenment texts across the Atlantic even as they barred creoles from meaningful political participation. Literacy surged among mixed-race populations, and pamphlets extolling popular sovereignty circulated alongside reports of North American and French upheavals. Creole intellectuals eagerly adopted these ideals—yet limited their egalitarian rhetoric to white males of Spanish descent, revealing that their quarrel was with peninsular privilege rather than with colonial caste itself. Nevertheless, a radical principle had entered the colonial bloodstream: legitimate authority must rest on local consent, not metropolitan decree.
Administrative grievances soon merged with economic antagonisms. Bourbon “free-trade” decrees merely freed peninsular manufacturers to flood colonial markets while preserving Crown monopolies over staples such as tobacco. Tax hikes designed to finance imperial wars ignited mass revolts—the 1780–81 uprising of Túpac Amaru II in Peru and the Comunero movement in New Granada. Although creole militias ultimately sided with Spain to crush these insurrections—thereby safeguarding their own racial supremacy—the episodes demonstrated that Madrid could no longer govern without coercion. By expelling the Jesuits in 1767, the monarchy even alienated the order that had educated many creole leaders and mitigated abuses against Indigenous laborers.
Taken together, these political, intellectual, and economic policies reveal a consistent Bourbon strategy: centralize authority and extract wealth while denying colonial subjects a commensurate share of power or dignity. Far from stabilizing the empire, such measures convinced creoles that independence offered the only path to recover honor and secure their interests. Thus the Bourbon Reforms, though intended to strengthen imperial cohesion, inadvertently furnished Spanish America with both the ideological arsenal and the social resentments necessary for the revolutions that would dismantle the empire within a generation.
The author mentions the expulsion of the Jesuits (1767) primarily to illustrate which broader claim about Bourbon policy?
Social Hierarchy and Reforms in Spanish America
By the late eighteenth century Madrid had redrawn its previously-named Bourbon empire into four vast viceroyalties—New Spain, Peru, New Granada, and Río de la Plata—while installing peninsular (Spanish-born) intendants who answered only to the Crown. These expatriate officials, often socially and intellectually inferior to the native-born creole elite they governed, monopolized the highest civil and military posts. Although the reforms generated short-term material gains for landowners and merchants, they also codified a racialized hierarchy in which wealth could not purchase status. The resulting humiliation produced a creole ideology of self-government that no subsequent patchwork of concessions could placate.
The Bourbons compounded this alienation by transmitting Enlightenment texts across the Atlantic even as they barred creoles from meaningful political participation. Literacy surged among mixed-race populations, and pamphlets extolling popular sovereignty circulated alongside reports of North American and French upheavals. Creole intellectuals eagerly adopted these ideals—yet limited their egalitarian rhetoric to white males of Spanish descent, revealing that their quarrel was with peninsular privilege rather than with colonial caste itself. Nevertheless, a radical principle had entered the colonial bloodstream: legitimate authority must rest on local consent, not metropolitan decree.
Administrative grievances soon merged with economic antagonisms. Bourbon “free-trade” decrees merely freed peninsular manufacturers to flood colonial markets while preserving Crown monopolies over staples such as tobacco. Tax hikes designed to finance imperial wars ignited mass revolts—the 1780–81 uprising of Túpac Amaru II in Peru and the Comunero movement in New Granada. Although creole militias ultimately sided with Spain to crush these insurrections—thereby safeguarding their own racial supremacy—the episodes demonstrated that Madrid could no longer govern without coercion. By expelling the Jesuits in 1767, the monarchy even alienated the order that had educated many creole leaders and mitigated abuses against Indigenous laborers.
Taken together, these political, intellectual, and economic policies reveal a consistent Bourbon strategy: centralize authority and extract wealth while denying colonial subjects a commensurate share of power or dignity. Far from stabilizing the empire, such measures convinced creoles that independence offered the only path to recover honor and secure their interests. Thus the Bourbon Reforms, though intended to strengthen imperial cohesion, inadvertently furnished Spanish America with both the ideological arsenal and the social resentments necessary for the revolutions that would dismantle the empire within a generation.
Which inference about creole militias is most consistent with the passage?
Social Hierarchy and Reforms in Spanish America
By the late eighteenth century Madrid had redrawn its previously-named Bourbon empire into four vast viceroyalties—New Spain, Peru, New Granada, and Río de la Plata—while installing peninsular (Spanish-born) intendants who answered only to the Crown. These expatriate officials, often socially and intellectually inferior to the native-born creole elite they governed, monopolized the highest civil and military posts. Although the reforms generated short-term material gains for landowners and merchants, they also codified a racialized hierarchy in which wealth could not purchase status. The resulting humiliation produced a creole ideology of self-government that no subsequent patchwork of concessions could placate.
The Bourbons compounded this alienation by transmitting Enlightenment texts across the Atlantic even as they barred creoles from meaningful political participation. Literacy surged among mixed-race populations, and pamphlets extolling popular sovereignty circulated alongside reports of North American and French upheavals. Creole intellectuals eagerly adopted these ideals—yet limited their egalitarian rhetoric to white males of Spanish descent, revealing that their quarrel was with peninsular privilege rather than with colonial caste itself. Nevertheless, a radical principle had entered the colonial bloodstream: legitimate authority must rest on local consent, not metropolitan decree.
Administrative grievances soon merged with economic antagonisms. Bourbon “free-trade” decrees merely freed peninsular manufacturers to flood colonial markets while preserving Crown monopolies over staples such as tobacco. Tax hikes designed to finance imperial wars ignited mass revolts—the 1780–81 uprising of Túpac Amaru II in Peru and the Comunero movement in New Granada. Although creole militias ultimately sided with Spain to crush these insurrections—thereby safeguarding their own racial supremacy—the episodes demonstrated that Madrid could no longer govern without coercion. By expelling the Jesuits in 1767, the monarchy even alienated the order that had educated many creole leaders and mitigated abuses against Indigenous laborers.
Taken together, these political, intellectual, and economic policies reveal a consistent Bourbon strategy: centralize authority and extract wealth while denying colonial subjects a commensurate share of power or dignity. Far from stabilizing the empire, such measures convinced creoles that independence offered the only path to recover honor and secure their interests. Thus the Bourbon Reforms, though intended to strengthen imperial cohesion, inadvertently furnished Spanish America with both the ideological arsenal and the social resentments necessary for the revolutions that would dismantle the empire within a generation.
The author’s portrayal of literacy growth among mixed-race populations serves mainly to support which interpretive point?
Social Hierarchy and Reforms in Spanish America
By the late eighteenth century Madrid had redrawn its previously-named Bourbon empire into four vast viceroyalties—New Spain, Peru, New Granada, and Río de la Plata—while installing peninsular (Spanish-born) intendants who answered only to the Crown. These expatriate officials, often socially and intellectually inferior to the native-born creole elite they governed, monopolized the highest civil and military posts. Although the reforms generated short-term material gains for landowners and merchants, they also codified a racialized hierarchy in which wealth could not purchase status. The resulting humiliation produced a creole ideology of self-government that no subsequent patchwork of concessions could placate.
The Bourbons compounded this alienation by transmitting Enlightenment texts across the Atlantic even as they barred creoles from meaningful political participation. Literacy surged among mixed-race populations, and pamphlets extolling popular sovereignty circulated alongside reports of North American and French upheavals. Creole intellectuals eagerly adopted these ideals—yet limited their egalitarian rhetoric to white males of Spanish descent, revealing that their quarrel was with peninsular privilege rather than with colonial caste itself. Nevertheless, a radical principle had entered the colonial bloodstream: legitimate authority must rest on local consent, not metropolitan decree.
Administrative grievances soon merged with economic antagonisms. Bourbon “free-trade” decrees merely freed peninsular manufacturers to flood colonial markets while preserving Crown monopolies over staples such as tobacco. Tax hikes designed to finance imperial wars ignited mass revolts—the 1780–81 uprising of Túpac Amaru II in Peru and the Comunero movement in New Granada. Although creole militias ultimately sided with Spain to crush these insurrections—thereby safeguarding their own racial supremacy—the episodes demonstrated that Madrid could no longer govern without coercion. By expelling the Jesuits in 1767, the monarchy even alienated the order that had educated many creole leaders and mitigated abuses against Indigenous laborers.
Taken together, these political, intellectual, and economic policies reveal a consistent Bourbon strategy: centralize authority and extract wealth while denying colonial subjects a commensurate share of power or dignity. Far from stabilizing the empire, such measures convinced creoles that independence offered the only path to recover honor and secure their interests. Thus the Bourbon Reforms, though intended to strengthen imperial cohesion, inadvertently furnished Spanish America with both the ideological arsenal and the social resentments necessary for the revolutions that would dismantle the empire within a generation.
If archival evidence showed that peninsular intendants routinely delegated key decisions to creole councils, what passage assertion would this most directly undermine?
Multispecies Ethnography
In his essay “Why Look at Animals?,” English art critic and poet John Berger writes, “To suppose that animals first entered the human imagination as meat or leather or horn is to project a 19th century attitude backwards across the millennia. Animals first entered the imagination as messengers and promises” ([1980] 1991, 4). Recent trends in anthropological scholarship attempt to interact with these messengers and understand the relationship that humans and animals share. The term polyspecific refers to the interactions of multiple species. The relationships shared between humans and other species began with our ancestors millions of years ago.
The specialty of human-animal studies within anthropology suggests new forms of scholarship that deliberately move away from anthropocentrism, which focuses on humans as if they are the only species that matters. Human-animal studies opens a window into different ways of thinking about what it means to be human. One approach within the specialty, called multispecies ethnography, pays careful attention to the interactions of humans and other species within their shared environment—whether those other species be plant, animal, fungal, or microbial. Multispecies ethnographies are especially focused on the study of symbiosis, which is a mutually beneficial relationship between species.
Researchers conducting multispecies ethnographies utilize a broad, holistic approach that takes into account questions such as where and how interactions between humans and animals occur. This approach is more complex than traditional ethnography because it requires that the researcher acknowledge both the perspectives of nonhuman actors and their roles in how we see and understand ourselves.
Cultural anthropologists and ecologists Kirill Istomin and Mark James Dwyer (2010) conducted multispecies ethnographies between two different herding populations in Russia: the Izhma Komi, who live in northeast European Russia, and the Nenets in western Siberia. The two groups live in environments that are comparable in terms of geography, average temperatures, and precipitation, and they herd the same subspecies of reindeer year-round. Yet their herding styles are completely different. The Izhma Komi divide their reindeer into two large groups: a family group consisting of non-castrated males, females, and calves, called a kör, and a group of castrated males used for transportation and hauling, called a byk. Herders accompany the two groups to two separate grazing grounds during the day and direct them back to camp at night. While foraging for food, the reindeer stay within their particular groups and do not wander away. In contrast, the Nenets allow their reindeer to freely disperse and wander during the day, only occasionally observing their general whereabouts and well-being. Unlike the Izhma Komi herds, which stay in their two large groups, the Nenets animals forage in smaller groups and reunite at night as a single herd when they return on their own to camp for protection. Unlike wild reindeer, who do not routinely live in and around human encampments, these groups have a symbiotic relationship with their herders. The humans get meat, some limited milk, and leather for clothing, shoes, and trade products from the reindeer, and the reindeer get protection and supplemental foods at the campsite from the herders.
Istomin and Dwyer’s research notes behaviors that the reindeer have learned from their human herders, but it also addresses social learning within the herds. In their interviews with the researchers, both Izhma Komi and Nenets herders told stories about the difficulties they faced when introducing new, so-called unmanageable animals into the herds. These new animals had not yet learned the herding routines of the group they were joining. Some wandered off and were lost before they could adapt to the particular herd culture. Istomin and Dwyer conclude that the animals themselves pass along behavioral knowledge to each other across generations as offspring follow and learn from their mothers and other adult reindeer. This conclusion challenges the notion that animal behavior is solely genetic and instinctual. Expanding ethnographies to include an understanding of what animals are doing and thinking is a primary objective of multispecies ethnography.
Based on the described herding styles, which inference about the Nenets reindeer is most justified?
Multispecies Ethnography
In his essay “Why Look at Animals?,” English art critic and poet John Berger writes, “To suppose that animals first entered the human imagination as meat or leather or horn is to project a 19th century attitude backwards across the millennia. Animals first entered the imagination as messengers and promises” ([1980] 1991, 4). Recent trends in anthropological scholarship attempt to interact with these messengers and understand the relationship that humans and animals share. The term polyspecific refers to the interactions of multiple species. The relationships shared between humans and other species began with our ancestors millions of years ago.
The specialty of human-animal studies within anthropology suggests new forms of scholarship that deliberately move away from anthropocentrism, which focuses on humans as if they are the only species that matters. Human-animal studies opens a window into different ways of thinking about what it means to be human. One approach within the specialty, called multispecies ethnography, pays careful attention to the interactions of humans and other species within their shared environment—whether those other species be plant, animal, fungal, or microbial. Multispecies ethnographies are especially focused on the study of symbiosis, which is a mutually beneficial relationship between species.
Researchers conducting multispecies ethnographies utilize a broad, holistic approach that takes into account questions such as where and how interactions between humans and animals occur. This approach is more complex than traditional ethnography because it requires that the researcher acknowledge both the perspectives of nonhuman actors and their roles in how we see and understand ourselves.
Cultural anthropologists and ecologists Kirill Istomin and Mark James Dwyer (2010) conducted multispecies ethnographies between two different herding populations in Russia: the Izhma Komi, who live in northeast European Russia, and the Nenets in western Siberia. The two groups live in environments that are comparable in terms of geography, average temperatures, and precipitation, and they herd the same subspecies of reindeer year-round. Yet their herding styles are completely different. The Izhma Komi divide their reindeer into two large groups: a family group consisting of non-castrated males, females, and calves, called a kör, and a group of castrated males used for transportation and hauling, called a byk. Herders accompany the two groups to two separate grazing grounds during the day and direct them back to camp at night. While foraging for food, the reindeer stay within their particular groups and do not wander away. In contrast, the Nenets allow their reindeer to freely disperse and wander during the day, only occasionally observing their general whereabouts and well-being. Unlike the Izhma Komi herds, which stay in their two large groups, the Nenets animals forage in smaller groups and reunite at night as a single herd when they return on their own to camp for protection. Unlike wild reindeer, who do not routinely live in and around human encampments, these groups have a symbiotic relationship with their herders. The humans get meat, some limited milk, and leather for clothing, shoes, and trade products from the reindeer, and the reindeer get protection and supplemental foods at the campsite from the herders.
Istomin and Dwyer’s research notes behaviors that the reindeer have learned from their human herders, but it also addresses social learning within the herds. In their interviews with the researchers, both Izhma Komi and Nenets herders told stories about the difficulties they faced when introducing new, so-called unmanageable animals into the herds. These new animals had not yet learned the herding routines of the group they were joining. Some wandered off and were lost before they could adapt to the particular herd culture. Istomin and Dwyer conclude that the animals themselves pass along behavioral knowledge to each other across generations as offspring follow and learn from their mothers and other adult reindeer. This conclusion challenges the notion that animal behavior is solely genetic and instinctual. Expanding ethnographies to include an understanding of what animals are doing and thinking is a primary objective of multispecies ethnography.
Which hypothetical finding would most undermine Istomin and Dwyer’s claim that reindeer learn routines socially rather than purely instinctively?
Multispecies Ethnography
In his essay “Why Look at Animals?,” English art critic and poet John Berger writes, “To suppose that animals first entered the human imagination as meat or leather or horn is to project a 19th century attitude backwards across the millennia. Animals first entered the imagination as messengers and promises” ([1980] 1991, 4). Recent trends in anthropological scholarship attempt to interact with these messengers and understand the relationship that humans and animals share. The term polyspecific refers to the interactions of multiple species. The relationships shared between humans and other species began with our ancestors millions of years ago.
The specialty of human-animal studies within anthropology suggests new forms of scholarship that deliberately move away from anthropocentrism, which focuses on humans as if they are the only species that matters. Human-animal studies opens a window into different ways of thinking about what it means to be human. One approach within the specialty, called multispecies ethnography, pays careful attention to the interactions of humans and other species within their shared environment—whether those other species be plant, animal, fungal, or microbial. Multispecies ethnographies are especially focused on the study of symbiosis, which is a mutually beneficial relationship between species.
Researchers conducting multispecies ethnographies utilize a broad, holistic approach that takes into account questions such as where and how interactions between humans and animals occur. This approach is more complex than traditional ethnography because it requires that the researcher acknowledge both the perspectives of nonhuman actors and their roles in how we see and understand ourselves.
Cultural anthropologists and ecologists Kirill Istomin and Mark James Dwyer (2010) conducted multispecies ethnographies between two different herding populations in Russia: the Izhma Komi, who live in northeast European Russia, and the Nenets in western Siberia. The two groups live in environments that are comparable in terms of geography, average temperatures, and precipitation, and they herd the same subspecies of reindeer year-round. Yet their herding styles are completely different. The Izhma Komi divide their reindeer into two large groups: a family group consisting of non-castrated males, females, and calves, called a kör, and a group of castrated males used for transportation and hauling, called a byk. Herders accompany the two groups to two separate grazing grounds during the day and direct them back to camp at night. While foraging for food, the reindeer stay within their particular groups and do not wander away. In contrast, the Nenets allow their reindeer to freely disperse and wander during the day, only occasionally observing their general whereabouts and well-being. Unlike the Izhma Komi herds, which stay in their two large groups, the Nenets animals forage in smaller groups and reunite at night as a single herd when they return on their own to camp for protection. Unlike wild reindeer, who do not routinely live in and around human encampments, these groups have a symbiotic relationship with their herders. The humans get meat, some limited milk, and leather for clothing, shoes, and trade products from the reindeer, and the reindeer get protection and supplemental foods at the campsite from the herders.
Istomin and Dwyer’s research notes behaviors that the reindeer have learned from their human herders, but it also addresses social learning within the herds. In their interviews with the researchers, both Izhma Komi and Nenets herders told stories about the difficulties they faced when introducing new, so-called unmanageable animals into the herds. These new animals had not yet learned the herding routines of the group they were joining. Some wandered off and were lost before they could adapt to the particular herd culture. Istomin and Dwyer conclude that the animals themselves pass along behavioral knowledge to each other across generations as offspring follow and learn from their mothers and other adult reindeer. This conclusion challenges the notion that animal behavior is solely genetic and instinctual. Expanding ethnographies to include an understanding of what animals are doing and thinking is a primary objective of multispecies ethnography.
Why do the authors argue that multispecies ethnography is more complex than traditional ethnography?
Multispecies Ethnography
In his essay “Why Look at Animals?,” English art critic and poet John Berger writes, “To suppose that animals first entered the human imagination as meat or leather or horn is to project a 19th century attitude backwards across the millennia. Animals first entered the imagination as messengers and promises” ([1980] 1991, 4). Recent trends in anthropological scholarship attempt to interact with these messengers and understand the relationship that humans and animals share. The term polyspecific refers to the interactions of multiple species. The relationships shared between humans and other species began with our ancestors millions of years ago.
The specialty of human-animal studies within anthropology suggests new forms of scholarship that deliberately move away from anthropocentrism, which focuses on humans as if they are the only species that matters. Human-animal studies opens a window into different ways of thinking about what it means to be human. One approach within the specialty, called multispecies ethnography, pays careful attention to the interactions of humans and other species within their shared environment—whether those other species be plant, animal, fungal, or microbial. Multispecies ethnographies are especially focused on the study of symbiosis, which is a mutually beneficial relationship between species.
Researchers conducting multispecies ethnographies utilize a broad, holistic approach that takes into account questions such as where and how interactions between humans and animals occur. This approach is more complex than traditional ethnography because it requires that the researcher acknowledge both the perspectives of nonhuman actors and their roles in how we see and understand ourselves.
Cultural anthropologists and ecologists Kirill Istomin and Mark James Dwyer (2010) conducted multispecies ethnographies between two different herding populations in Russia: the Izhma Komi, who live in northeast European Russia, and the Nenets in western Siberia. The two groups live in environments that are comparable in terms of geography, average temperatures, and precipitation, and they herd the same subspecies of reindeer year-round. Yet their herding styles are completely different. The Izhma Komi divide their reindeer into two large groups: a family group consisting of non-castrated males, females, and calves, called a kör, and a group of castrated males used for transportation and hauling, called a byk. Herders accompany the two groups to two separate grazing grounds during the day and direct them back to camp at night. While foraging for food, the reindeer stay within their particular groups and do not wander away. In contrast, the Nenets allow their reindeer to freely disperse and wander during the day, only occasionally observing their general whereabouts and well-being. Unlike the Izhma Komi herds, which stay in their two large groups, the Nenets animals forage in smaller groups and reunite at night as a single herd when they return on their own to camp for protection. Unlike wild reindeer, who do not routinely live in and around human encampments, these groups have a symbiotic relationship with their herders. The humans get meat, some limited milk, and leather for clothing, shoes, and trade products from the reindeer, and the reindeer get protection and supplemental foods at the campsite from the herders.
Istomin and Dwyer’s research notes behaviors that the reindeer have learned from their human herders, but it also addresses social learning within the herds. In their interviews with the researchers, both Izhma Komi and Nenets herders told stories about the difficulties they faced when introducing new, so-called unmanageable animals into the herds. These new animals had not yet learned the herding routines of the group they were joining. Some wandered off and were lost before they could adapt to the particular herd culture. Istomin and Dwyer conclude that the animals themselves pass along behavioral knowledge to each other across generations as offspring follow and learn from their mothers and other adult reindeer. This conclusion challenges the notion that animal behavior is solely genetic and instinctual. Expanding ethnographies to include an understanding of what animals are doing and thinking is a primary objective of multispecies ethnography.
Which assumption underlying John Berger’s opening quote does the passage challenge?
Multispecies Ethnography
In his essay “Why Look at Animals?,” English art critic and poet John Berger writes, “To suppose that animals first entered the human imagination as meat or leather or horn is to project a 19th century attitude backwards across the millennia. Animals first entered the imagination as messengers and promises” ([1980] 1991, 4). Recent trends in anthropological scholarship attempt to interact with these messengers and understand the relationship that humans and animals share. The term polyspecific refers to the interactions of multiple species. The relationships shared between humans and other species began with our ancestors millions of years ago.
The specialty of human-animal studies within anthropology suggests new forms of scholarship that deliberately move away from anthropocentrism, which focuses on humans as if they are the only species that matters. Human-animal studies opens a window into different ways of thinking about what it means to be human. One approach within the specialty, called multispecies ethnography, pays careful attention to the interactions of humans and other species within their shared environment—whether those other species be plant, animal, fungal, or microbial. Multispecies ethnographies are especially focused on the study of symbiosis, which is a mutually beneficial relationship between species.
Researchers conducting multispecies ethnographies utilize a broad, holistic approach that takes into account questions such as where and how interactions between humans and animals occur. This approach is more complex than traditional ethnography because it requires that the researcher acknowledge both the perspectives of nonhuman actors and their roles in how we see and understand ourselves.
Cultural anthropologists and ecologists Kirill Istomin and Mark James Dwyer (2010) conducted multispecies ethnographies between two different herding populations in Russia: the Izhma Komi, who live in northeast European Russia, and the Nenets in western Siberia. The two groups live in environments that are comparable in terms of geography, average temperatures, and precipitation, and they herd the same subspecies of reindeer year-round. Yet their herding styles are completely different. The Izhma Komi divide their reindeer into two large groups: a family group consisting of non-castrated males, females, and calves, called a kör, and a group of castrated males used for transportation and hauling, called a byk. Herders accompany the two groups to two separate grazing grounds during the day and direct them back to camp at night. While foraging for food, the reindeer stay within their particular groups and do not wander away. In contrast, the Nenets allow their reindeer to freely disperse and wander during the day, only occasionally observing their general whereabouts and well-being. Unlike the Izhma Komi herds, which stay in their two large groups, the Nenets animals forage in smaller groups and reunite at night as a single herd when they return on their own to camp for protection. Unlike wild reindeer, who do not routinely live in and around human encampments, these groups have a symbiotic relationship with their herders. The humans get meat, some limited milk, and leather for clothing, shoes, and trade products from the reindeer, and the reindeer get protection and supplemental foods at the campsite from the herders.
Istomin and Dwyer’s research notes behaviors that the reindeer have learned from their human herders, but it also addresses social learning within the herds. In their interviews with the researchers, both Izhma Komi and Nenets herders told stories about the difficulties they faced when introducing new, so-called unmanageable animals into the herds. These new animals had not yet learned the herding routines of the group they were joining. Some wandered off and were lost before they could adapt to the particular herd culture. Istomin and Dwyer conclude that the animals themselves pass along behavioral knowledge to each other across generations as offspring follow and learn from their mothers and other adult reindeer. This conclusion challenges the notion that animal behavior is solely genetic and instinctual. Expanding ethnographies to include an understanding of what animals are doing and thinking is a primary objective of multispecies ethnography.
What would most directly reinforce the passage’s claim about the importance of polyspecific interactions?
Multispecies Ethnography
In his essay “Why Look at Animals?,” English art critic and poet John Berger writes, “To suppose that animals first entered the human imagination as meat or leather or horn is to project a 19th century attitude backwards across the millennia. Animals first entered the imagination as messengers and promises” ([1980] 1991, 4). Recent trends in anthropological scholarship attempt to interact with these messengers and understand the relationship that humans and animals share. The term polyspecific refers to the interactions of multiple species. The relationships shared between humans and other species began with our ancestors millions of years ago.
The specialty of human-animal studies within anthropology suggests new forms of scholarship that deliberately move away from anthropocentrism, which focuses on humans as if they are the only species that matters. Human-animal studies opens a window into different ways of thinking about what it means to be human. One approach within the specialty, called multispecies ethnography, pays careful attention to the interactions of humans and other species within their shared environment—whether those other species be plant, animal, fungal, or microbial. Multispecies ethnographies are especially focused on the study of symbiosis, which is a mutually beneficial relationship between species.
Researchers conducting multispecies ethnographies utilize a broad, holistic approach that takes into account questions such as where and how interactions between humans and animals occur. This approach is more complex than traditional ethnography because it requires that the researcher acknowledge both the perspectives of nonhuman actors and their roles in how we see and understand ourselves.
Cultural anthropologists and ecologists Kirill Istomin and Mark James Dwyer (2010) conducted multispecies ethnographies between two different herding populations in Russia: the Izhma Komi, who live in northeast European Russia, and the Nenets in western Siberia. The two groups live in environments that are comparable in terms of geography, average temperatures, and precipitation, and they herd the same subspecies of reindeer year-round. Yet their herding styles are completely different. The Izhma Komi divide their reindeer into two large groups: a family group consisting of non-castrated males, females, and calves, called a kör, and a group of castrated males used for transportation and hauling, called a byk. Herders accompany the two groups to two separate grazing grounds during the day and direct them back to camp at night. While foraging for food, the reindeer stay within their particular groups and do not wander away. In contrast, the Nenets allow their reindeer to freely disperse and wander during the day, only occasionally observing their general whereabouts and well-being. Unlike the Izhma Komi herds, which stay in their two large groups, the Nenets animals forage in smaller groups and reunite at night as a single herd when they return on their own to camp for protection. Unlike wild reindeer, who do not routinely live in and around human encampments, these groups have a symbiotic relationship with their herders. The humans get meat, some limited milk, and leather for clothing, shoes, and trade products from the reindeer, and the reindeer get protection and supplemental foods at the campsite from the herders.
Istomin and Dwyer’s research notes behaviors that the reindeer have learned from their human herders, but it also addresses social learning within the herds. In their interviews with the researchers, both Izhma Komi and Nenets herders told stories about the difficulties they faced when introducing new, so-called unmanageable animals into the herds. These new animals had not yet learned the herding routines of the group they were joining. Some wandered off and were lost before they could adapt to the particular herd culture. Istomin and Dwyer conclude that the animals themselves pass along behavioral knowledge to each other across generations as offspring follow and learn from their mothers and other adult reindeer. This conclusion challenges the notion that animal behavior is solely genetic and instinctual. Expanding ethnographies to include an understanding of what animals are doing and thinking is a primary objective of multispecies ethnography.
What is the author’s primary purpose in this passage?
Democracy and Ethics
There is no doubt that the great difficulty we experience in reducing to action our imperfect code of social ethics arises from the fact that we have not yet learned to act together, and find it far from easy even to fuse our principles and aims into a satisfactory statement. We have all been at times entertained by the futile efforts of half a dozen highly individualized people gathered together as a committee. Their aimless attempts to find a common method of action have recalled the wavering motion of a baby's arm before he has learned to coördinate his muscles.
If, as is many times stated, we are passing from an age of individualism to one of association, there is no doubt that for decisive and effective action the individual still has the best of it. He will secure efficient results while committees are still deliberating upon the best method of making a beginning. And yet, if the need of the times demand associated effort, it may easily be true that the action which appears ineffective, and yet is carried out upon the more highly developed line of associated effort, may represent a finer social quality and have a greater social value than the more effective individual action. It is possible that an individual may be successful, largely because he conserves all his powers for individual achievement and does not put any of his energy into the training which will give him the ability to act with others. The individual acts promptly, and we are dazzled by his success while only dimly conscious of the inadequacy of his code. Nowhere is this illustrated more clearly than in industrial relations, as existing between the owner of a large factory and his employees.
A growing conflict may be detected between the democratic ideal, which urges the workmen to demand representation in the administration of industry, and the accepted position, that the man who owns the capital and takes the risks has the exclusive right of management. It is in reality a clash between individual or aristocratic management, and corporate or democratic management. A large and highly developed factory presents a sharp contrast between its socialized form and individualistic ends.
A large manufacturing company had provided commodious workshops, and, at the instigation of its president, had built a model town for the use of its employees. After a series of years it was deemed necessary, during a financial depression, to reduce the wages of these employees by giving each workman less than full-time work "in order to keep the shops open." This reduction was not accepted by the men, who had become discontented with the factory management and the town regulations, and a strike ensued, followed by a complete shut-down of the works. …During all of these events the president of the manufacturing company first involved, steadfastly refused to have the situation submitted to arbitration, and this attitude naturally provoked much discussion. The discussion was broadly divided between those who held that the long kindness of the president of the company had been most ungratefully received, and those who maintained that the situation was the inevitable outcome of the social consciousness developing among working people. The first defended the president of the company in his persistent refusal to arbitrate, maintaining that arbitration was impossible after the matter had been taken up by other than his own employees, and they declared that a man must be allowed to run his own business. They considered the firm stand of the president a service to the manufacturing interests of the entire country. The others claimed that a large manufacturing concern has ceased to be a private matter; that not only a number of workmen and stockholders are concerned in its management, but that the interests of the public are so involved that the officers of the company are in a real sense administering a public trust.
An unstated assumption of the author’s discussion concerning the conflict in the model town is that:
Democracy and Ethics
There is no doubt that the great difficulty we experience in reducing to action our imperfect code of social ethics arises from the fact that we have not yet learned to act together, and find it far from easy even to fuse our principles and aims into a satisfactory statement. We have all been at times entertained by the futile efforts of half a dozen highly individualized people gathered together as a committee. Their aimless attempts to find a common method of action have recalled the wavering motion of a baby's arm before he has learned to coördinate his muscles.
If, as is many times stated, we are passing from an age of individualism to one of association, there is no doubt that for decisive and effective action the individual still has the best of it. He will secure efficient results while committees are still deliberating upon the best method of making a beginning. And yet, if the need of the times demand associated effort, it may easily be true that the action which appears ineffective, and yet is carried out upon the more highly developed line of associated effort, may represent a finer social quality and have a greater social value than the more effective individual action. It is possible that an individual may be successful, largely because he conserves all his powers for individual achievement and does not put any of his energy into the training which will give him the ability to act with others. The individual acts promptly, and we are dazzled by his success while only dimly conscious of the inadequacy of his code. Nowhere is this illustrated more clearly than in industrial relations, as existing between the owner of a large factory and his employees.
A growing conflict may be detected between the democratic ideal, which urges the workmen to demand representation in the administration of industry, and the accepted position, that the man who owns the capital and takes the risks has the exclusive right of management. It is in reality a clash between individual or aristocratic management, and corporate or democratic management. A large and highly developed factory presents a sharp contrast between its socialized form and individualistic ends.
A large manufacturing company had provided commodious workshops, and, at the instigation of its president, had built a model town for the use of its employees. After a series of years it was deemed necessary, during a financial depression, to reduce the wages of these employees by giving each workman less than full-time work "in order to keep the shops open." This reduction was not accepted by the men, who had become discontented with the factory management and the town regulations, and a strike ensued, followed by a complete shut-down of the works. …During all of these events the president of the manufacturing company first involved, steadfastly refused to have the situation submitted to arbitration, and this attitude naturally provoked much discussion. The discussion was broadly divided between those who held that the long kindness of the president of the company had been most ungratefully received, and those who maintained that the situation was the inevitable outcome of the social consciousness developing among working people. The first defended the president of the company in his persistent refusal to arbitrate, maintaining that arbitration was impossible after the matter had been taken up by other than his own employees, and they declared that a man must be allowed to run his own business. They considered the firm stand of the president a service to the manufacturing interests of the entire country. The others claimed that a large manufacturing concern has ceased to be a private matter; that not only a number of workmen and stockholders are concerned in its management, but that the interests of the public are so involved that the officers of the company are in a real sense administering a public trust.
The central thrust of this passage is:
Democracy and Ethics
There is no doubt that the great difficulty we experience in reducing to action our imperfect code of social ethics arises from the fact that we have not yet learned to act together, and find it far from easy even to fuse our principles and aims into a satisfactory statement. We have all been at times entertained by the futile efforts of half a dozen highly individualized people gathered together as a committee. Their aimless attempts to find a common method of action have recalled the wavering motion of a baby's arm before he has learned to coördinate his muscles.
If, as is many times stated, we are passing from an age of individualism to one of association, there is no doubt that for decisive and effective action the individual still has the best of it. He will secure efficient results while committees are still deliberating upon the best method of making a beginning. And yet, if the need of the times demand associated effort, it may easily be true that the action which appears ineffective, and yet is carried out upon the more highly developed line of associated effort, may represent a finer social quality and have a greater social value than the more effective individual action. It is possible that an individual may be successful, largely because he conserves all his powers for individual achievement and does not put any of his energy into the training which will give him the ability to act with others. The individual acts promptly, and we are dazzled by his success while only dimly conscious of the inadequacy of his code. Nowhere is this illustrated more clearly than in industrial relations, as existing between the owner of a large factory and his employees.
A growing conflict may be detected between the democratic ideal, which urges the workmen to demand representation in the administration of industry, and the accepted position, that the man who owns the capital and takes the risks has the exclusive right of management. It is in reality a clash between individual or aristocratic management, and corporate or democratic management. A large and highly developed factory presents a sharp contrast between its socialized form and individualistic ends.
A large manufacturing company had provided commodious workshops, and, at the instigation of its president, had built a model town for the use of its employees. After a series of years it was deemed necessary, during a financial depression, to reduce the wages of these employees by giving each workman less than full-time work "in order to keep the shops open." This reduction was not accepted by the men, who had become discontented with the factory management and the town regulations, and a strike ensued, followed by a complete shut-down of the works. …During all of these events the president of the manufacturing company first involved, steadfastly refused to have the situation submitted to arbitration, and this attitude naturally provoked much discussion. The discussion was broadly divided between those who held that the long kindness of the president of the company had been most ungratefully received, and those who maintained that the situation was the inevitable outcome of the social consciousness developing among working people. The first defended the president of the company in his persistent refusal to arbitrate, maintaining that arbitration was impossible after the matter had been taken up by other than his own employees, and they declared that a man must be allowed to run his own business. They considered the firm stand of the president a service to the manufacturing interests of the entire country. The others claimed that a large manufacturing concern has ceased to be a private matter; that not only a number of workmen and stockholders are concerned in its management, but that the interests of the public are so involved that the officers of the company are in a real sense administering a public trust.
Based on the aristocratic beliefs of the factory president described in the passage, what can be inferred about the beliefs of the employees and those who supported them?
Democracy and Ethics
There is no doubt that the great difficulty we experience in reducing to action our imperfect code of social ethics arises from the fact that we have not yet learned to act together, and find it far from easy even to fuse our principles and aims into a satisfactory statement. We have all been at times entertained by the futile efforts of half a dozen highly individualized people gathered together as a committee. Their aimless attempts to find a common method of action have recalled the wavering motion of a baby's arm before he has learned to coördinate his muscles.
If, as is many times stated, we are passing from an age of individualism to one of association, there is no doubt that for decisive and effective action the individual still has the best of it. He will secure efficient results while committees are still deliberating upon the best method of making a beginning. And yet, if the need of the times demand associated effort, it may easily be true that the action which appears ineffective, and yet is carried out upon the more highly developed line of associated effort, may represent a finer social quality and have a greater social value than the more effective individual action. It is possible that an individual may be successful, largely because he conserves all his powers for individual achievement and does not put any of his energy into the training which will give him the ability to act with others. The individual acts promptly, and we are dazzled by his success while only dimly conscious of the inadequacy of his code. Nowhere is this illustrated more clearly than in industrial relations, as existing between the owner of a large factory and his employees.
A growing conflict may be detected between the democratic ideal, which urges the workmen to demand representation in the administration of industry, and the accepted position, that the man who owns the capital and takes the risks has the exclusive right of management. It is in reality a clash between individual or aristocratic management, and corporate or democratic management. A large and highly developed factory presents a sharp contrast between its socialized form and individualistic ends.
A large manufacturing company had provided commodious workshops, and, at the instigation of its president, had built a model town for the use of its employees. After a series of years it was deemed necessary, during a financial depression, to reduce the wages of these employees by giving each workman less than full-time work "in order to keep the shops open." This reduction was not accepted by the men, who had become discontented with the factory management and the town regulations, and a strike ensued, followed by a complete shut-down of the works. …During all of these events the president of the manufacturing company first involved, steadfastly refused to have the situation submitted to arbitration, and this attitude naturally provoked much discussion. The discussion was broadly divided between those who held that the long kindness of the president of the company had been most ungratefully received, and those who maintained that the situation was the inevitable outcome of the social consciousness developing among working people. The first defended the president of the company in his persistent refusal to arbitrate, maintaining that arbitration was impossible after the matter had been taken up by other than his own employees, and they declared that a man must be allowed to run his own business. They considered the firm stand of the president a service to the manufacturing interests of the entire country. The others claimed that a large manufacturing concern has ceased to be a private matter; that not only a number of workmen and stockholders are concerned in its management, but that the interests of the public are so involved that the officers of the company are in a real sense administering a public trust.
The author’s descriptions of the “wavering motion of a baby’s arm” and the “futile efforts of… a committee” are used by the author as support for which claim?
Democracy and Ethics
There is no doubt that the great difficulty we experience in reducing to action our imperfect code of social ethics arises from the fact that we have not yet learned to act together, and find it far from easy even to fuse our principles and aims into a satisfactory statement. We have all been at times entertained by the futile efforts of half a dozen highly individualized people gathered together as a committee. Their aimless attempts to find a common method of action have recalled the wavering motion of a baby's arm before he has learned to coördinate his muscles.
If, as is many times stated, we are passing from an age of individualism to one of association, there is no doubt that for decisive and effective action the individual still has the best of it. He will secure efficient results while committees are still deliberating upon the best method of making a beginning. And yet, if the need of the times demand associated effort, it may easily be true that the action which appears ineffective, and yet is carried out upon the more highly developed line of associated effort, may represent a finer social quality and have a greater social value than the more effective individual action. It is possible that an individual may be successful, largely because he conserves all his powers for individual achievement and does not put any of his energy into the training which will give him the ability to act with others. The individual acts promptly, and we are dazzled by his success while only dimly conscious of the inadequacy of his code. Nowhere is this illustrated more clearly than in industrial relations, as existing between the owner of a large factory and his employees.
A growing conflict may be detected between the democratic ideal, which urges the workmen to demand representation in the administration of industry, and the accepted position, that the man who owns the capital and takes the risks has the exclusive right of management. It is in reality a clash between individual or aristocratic management, and corporate or democratic management. A large and highly developed factory presents a sharp contrast between its socialized form and individualistic ends.
A large manufacturing company had provided commodious workshops, and, at the instigation of its president, had built a model town for the use of its employees. After a series of years it was deemed necessary, during a financial depression, to reduce the wages of these employees by giving each workman less than full-time work "in order to keep the shops open." This reduction was not accepted by the men, who had become discontented with the factory management and the town regulations, and a strike ensued, followed by a complete shut-down of the works. …During all of these events the president of the manufacturing company first involved, steadfastly refused to have the situation submitted to arbitration, and this attitude naturally provoked much discussion. The discussion was broadly divided between those who held that the long kindness of the president of the company had been most ungratefully received, and those who maintained that the situation was the inevitable outcome of the social consciousness developing among working people. The first defended the president of the company in his persistent refusal to arbitrate, maintaining that arbitration was impossible after the matter had been taken up by other than his own employees, and they declared that a man must be allowed to run his own business. They considered the firm stand of the president a service to the manufacturing interests of the entire country. The others claimed that a large manufacturing concern has ceased to be a private matter; that not only a number of workmen and stockholders are concerned in its management, but that the interests of the public are so involved that the officers of the company are in a real sense administering a public trust.
Suppose that a modern corporation argues its primary duty is to maximize shareholder value above all else. The author would most likely respond to that by:
Democracy and Ethics
There is no doubt that the great difficulty we experience in reducing to action our imperfect code of social ethics arises from the fact that we have not yet learned to act together, and find it far from easy even to fuse our principles and aims into a satisfactory statement. We have all been at times entertained by the futile efforts of half a dozen highly individualized people gathered together as a committee. Their aimless attempts to find a common method of action have recalled the wavering motion of a baby's arm before he has learned to coördinate his muscles.
If, as is many times stated, we are passing from an age of individualism to one of association, there is no doubt that for decisive and effective action the individual still has the best of it. He will secure efficient results while committees are still deliberating upon the best method of making a beginning. And yet, if the need of the times demand associated effort, it may easily be true that the action which appears ineffective, and yet is carried out upon the more highly developed line of associated effort, may represent a finer social quality and have a greater social value than the more effective individual action. It is possible that an individual may be successful, largely because he conserves all his powers for individual achievement and does not put any of his energy into the training which will give him the ability to act with others. The individual acts promptly, and we are dazzled by his success while only dimly conscious of the inadequacy of his code. Nowhere is this illustrated more clearly than in industrial relations, as existing between the owner of a large factory and his employees.
A growing conflict may be detected between the democratic ideal, which urges the workmen to demand representation in the administration of industry, and the accepted position, that the man who owns the capital and takes the risks has the exclusive right of management. It is in reality a clash between individual or aristocratic management, and corporate or democratic management. A large and highly developed factory presents a sharp contrast between its socialized form and individualistic ends.
A large manufacturing company had provided commodious workshops, and, at the instigation of its president, had built a model town for the use of its employees. After a series of years it was deemed necessary, during a financial depression, to reduce the wages of these employees by giving each workman less than full-time work "in order to keep the shops open." This reduction was not accepted by the men, who had become discontented with the factory management and the town regulations, and a strike ensued, followed by a complete shut-down of the works. …During all of these events the president of the manufacturing company first involved, steadfastly refused to have the situation submitted to arbitration, and this attitude naturally provoked much discussion. The discussion was broadly divided between those who held that the long kindness of the president of the company had been most ungratefully received, and those who maintained that the situation was the inevitable outcome of the social consciousness developing among working people. The first defended the president of the company in his persistent refusal to arbitrate, maintaining that arbitration was impossible after the matter had been taken up by other than his own employees, and they declared that a man must be allowed to run his own business. They considered the firm stand of the president a service to the manufacturing interests of the entire country. The others claimed that a large manufacturing concern has ceased to be a private matter; that not only a number of workmen and stockholders are concerned in its management, but that the interests of the public are so involved that the officers of the company are in a real sense administering a public trust.
Which of the following inferences is most justified based on the author’s arguments concerning industrial relations?
Continue your practice
