ArticlePDF Available

Food habits, social change and the nature/culture dilemma

Authors:
  • French National Centre for Scientific Research and Ecole des Hautes Etudes en Sciences Sociales
http://ssi.sagepub.com/
Social Science Information
http://ssi.sagepub.com/content/19/6/937
The online version of this article can be found at:
DOI: 10.1177/053901848001900603
1980 19: 937Social Science Information
Claude Fischler
Food habits, social change and the nature/culture dilemma
Published by:
http://www.sagepublications.com
On behalf of:
Maison des Sciences de l'Homme
can be found at:Social Science InformationAdditional services and information for
http://ssi.sagepub.com/cgi/alertsEmail Alerts:
http://ssi.sagepub.com/subscriptionsSubscriptions:
http://www.sagepub.com/journalsReprints.navReprints:
http://www.sagepub.com/journalsPermissions.navPermissions:
http://ssi.sagepub.com/content/19/6/937.refs.htmlCitations:
What is This?
- Dec 1, 1980Version of Record >>
at East Carolina University on June 1, 2014ssi.sagepub.comDownloaded from at East Carolina University on June 1, 2014ssi.sagepub.comDownloaded from
937
Anthropology
of
food
Anthropologie
de
l’alimentation
Claude
Fischler
Food
habits,
social
change
and
the
nature/culture
dilemma
Homo
sapiens
is
an
omnivorous
species.
The
omnivore’s
freedom
of
choice
(provided,
of
course,
there is
a
choice)
implies
a
capacity
to
adjust
to
many
environmental
shifts,
hence
the
possibility
of
moving
from
one
environmental
setting
to
another.
However,
the
omnivore’s
diet
has
to
meet
one
important
constraint,
that
of
varie-
ty.
The
various
nutrients
that
his
metabolism
requires
must
be
ex-
tracted
from
a
wide
range
of
foods
(Rozin,
1976).
The
human
omnivore
uses
his
freedom
of
choice
in
a
most
peculiar
way.
One
of
his
specific
features
is
that
he
is
amazingly
particular
-
even
finicky
-
about
his
food.
Man
feeds
not
only
on
proteins,
fats,
carbohydrates,
but
also
on
symbols,
myths,
fan-
tasies.
The
selection
of
his
foods
is
made
not
only
according
to
physiological
requirements,
perceptual
and
cognitive
mechanisms,
but
also
on
the
basis
of
cultural
and
social
representations
which
result in
additional
constraints
on
what
can
and
cannot
be
eaten,
what
is
liked
and
what
is
disliked.
As
Levi-Strauss
puts
it,
things
must
be
&dquo;not
only
good
to
eat,
but
also
good
to
think&dquo;.
This
paper
was
presented
at
the
Fifth
International
Congress
of
the
International
Organization
for
the
Study
of
Human
Development
held
at
Campione
(Italy),
5-8
May
1980.
The
theme
of
the
Congress
was
&dquo;Food,
nutrition
and
evolution
-
Food
as
an
environmental
factor
in
the
genesis
of
human
variability&dquo;.
Publication
of
the
Proceedings
is
planned
for
1981
(Masson
International).
at East Carolina University on June 1, 2014ssi.sagepub.comDownloaded from
938
It is
not
clear
whether
such
cultural
requirements
are
functional
or
dysfunctional
from
a
nutritional
point
of
view,
nor
from
other
points
of
view,
although
it
is
quite
clear
that
they
are
of
utmost
im-
portance
to
any
individual,
if
only
to
the
extent
that
he
is
part
of
a
group
that
shares
them.
However,
the
issue
raised
here
is
that
of
the
relationship
between
human
needs
and
wants.
All
living
creatures,
including
Homo
sapiens,
have
a
wisdom
of
the
body,
i.e.
a
certain
physiological
capacity
of
maintaining
steady
states
in
the
organism
(Cannon,
1963).
The
problem
with
man
is
that
much
remains
unclear -
to
say
the
least
-
as
to
what
the
interactions
are
between
such
’wisdom’,
behaviour,
and
social-cultural
representations.
’Wisdom
of
the
body’
and
’wisdom
of
culture’
That
humans,
not
only
animals,
possess
a
kind
of
nutritional
wisdom
seems
to
derive
from
various
data
and
observations,
which
need
not
be
reviewed
at
length
here.
Suffice
it
to
recall
that
we
know
of
cases
of
’specific
hungers’
which,
in
certain
situations
and/or
individuals,
tend
to
correct
nutritional
imbalances
(Rozin,
1976).
Above
all
we
know
of
Clara
Davis’
famous
experiments
car-
ried
out
as
early
as
the
nineteen
twenties
and
thirties.
Children
were
weaned
in
a
hospital
and
placed
for
several
months
on
a
so-
called
cafeteria
diet,
which
consisted
of
trays
containing
twenty
or
more
different
foods.
Children
went
through
phases
of
marked
preference
for
specific
foods,
but
in
the
longer
term
these
’binges’
tended
to
be
balanced
by
other
choices.
By
and
large,
the
net
result
was
an
impressively
balanced
diet
(including
for
instance
a
constant
17
percent
calories
from
proteins)
(Davis,
1928
and
1939).
Thus
in
the
case
of
the
children
in
the
Davis
experiments,
it
does
seem
that
food
preferences
were
to
some
extent
effective
and
reliable
nutritional
cues.
At
the
individual,
biological
level,
it
seems
that
tastes
can
indeed
give
good
guidance.
But
of
course,
most
of
human
food
selection
occurs
in
totally
different
situations,
for
it
is,
as
we
have
seen,
subject
to
collective,
socio-cultural
pressures.
How
do
these
come
into
play?
In
quite
a
number
of
instances,
there
does
seem
to
be
something
we
may
call
nutritional
’wisdom
of
culture’,
i.e.
a
set
of
culturally
transmitted
practices
-
culinary
or
other
-
which
tend
to
correct
some
nutritional
imbalance.
For
instance,
a
specific
way
of
cooking
a
food
may
result
in
detoxifying
it,
or
in
making
available
some
re-
at East Carolina University on June 1, 2014ssi.sagepub.comDownloaded from
939
quired
nutrient
(Katz
et
al.,
1974).
Other
types
of
anthropological
hypotheses
tend
to
interpret
cultural
patterns,
and
particularly
food
habits,
as
a
result
of
conscious
or
unconscious
cost/benefit
evaluation,
in
terms
of
ecological
and/or
economic
balance
(Har-
ris,
1977).
But,
by
and
large,
these
instances,
convincing
or
striking
as
they
may
sound,
seem
to
raise
more
questions
than
they
solve.
We
do
have
a
fair
hint
of
how
new
practices
can
appear
and
spread
in
animal
feeding
behaviours,
thanks
to
the
famous
observations
on
Japanese
monkeys
(Itani
and
Nishimura,
1973).
In
September
1953,
on
Koshima
Island,
Kawamura
observed
a
young
female
macaca
fuscata
taking
a
sweet
potato
to
a
stream,
washing
it,
and
eating
it.
This
behaviour
then
became
slowly
but
steadily
diffused
among
the
troop.
In
195~,
eleven
individuals
had
become
’washers’.
By
1962,
thirty
six
individuals
out
of
a
total
of
fifty
nine
in
the
troop
(73.4
percent
of
the
monkeys
over
one
year
of
age)
had
acquired
the
habit.
Subsequently,
some
individuals
developed
the
’technique’
of
washing
their
potato
in
sea
water,
thus
salting
it
(’seasoning
behaviour’).
In
the
early
sixties,
Kawai
(1965)
attempted
an
analysis
of
the
process
of
diffusion.
He
found
that
two
phases
could
be
distinguished.
In
the
first
period
the
behaviour
pro-
pagates
from
younger
to
elder
individuals.
In
the
second
one,
in-
fants
apparently
learn
the
habit
from
their
mother,
as
a
normal
feeding
behaviour.
A
quick
diffusion
can
therefore
take
place
from
elder
to
younger
individuals.
Nevertheless,
no
matter
how
fascinating
the
Japanese
observa-
tions
are,
they
concern
animal
feeding
behaviours
of
apparently
no
direct
nutritional
relevance
(with
the
possible
exception
of
the addi-
tional
salt
intake
due
to
the
’seasoning’).
In
other
cases,
we
do
know
that
the
feeding
practice
under
consideration
has
definite
nutritional
consequences,
but
we
have
no
idea
as
to
how
the habit
has
spread
and
how
it
has
been
fixed.
In
more
than
one
instance,
we
do
not
even
know
if
the
new
habit
is
based
on
actual
preferences
as
to
flavour
or
texture.
Often,
it
seems,
it
is
not
(Katz
et
al.,
1974).
If
and
when
it
is,
one
is
then
faced
with
the
absence
of
definite
answers
to
the
questions
which
arise.
Do
tastes
induce
cultural
shifts?
Or
is
it
culture
that
determines
changes
in
’natural’
preferences?
Probably
both;
but then
we
have
no
cues
as
to
precise-
ly
how
representations
can
be
’mapped’
into
sensations,
as
to
what
exactly
the
’missing
link’
is
between
physical-chemical
structure,
sensation
and
representation
(Piattelli-Palmarini,
1979).
at East Carolina University on June 1, 2014ssi.sagepub.comDownloaded from
940
Cultural
arbitrariness
When
surveying
the
vast
realm
of
symbolism
and
cultural
represen-
tations
involved
in
human
food
habits,
one
has
to
accept,
I
believe,
the
fact
that
a
great
part
is
really
difficult
to
ascribe
to
anything
other
than
an
intrinsic
coherence,
to
some
extent
arbitrary.
The
complex
systems
of
norms,
rules
and
representations
associated
with,
and
partly
shaping,
human
food
selection,
often
cannot
at
first
sight
be
related
to
anything
biologically
functional.
As
Mary
Douglas
(1979)
points
out,
in
several
cultures
including
our
own,
dog
and
fox
are
never
eaten,
let
alone
liked.
The
reason
for
this,
she
writes,
is
not
that
we
cannot
digest
or
assimilate
fox
meat.
Nor
is
it
that,
in
terms
of
cost/benefit
analysis,
we
are
simply
better
off
not
eating
it.
The
reason,
according
to
structuralist
anthropology
(Douglas,
1966;
1979),
lies
in
the
order
which
the
culture
we
belong
to
tends
to
see
in
the
universe,
and
the
place
that
particular
culture
assigns
to
things,
animals
and
people.
The
human
mind
shapes
categories
and
tends
to
force
reality
into
them.
Mary
Douglas
has
shown
that
the
notions
of
purity
and
pollution
(and
consequently
the
borderline
between
edible
and
non-edible)
are
rooted
in
our
culture’s
specific
cosmology
and
the
kind
of
taxonomy
it
develops
and
imposes.
Take
a
plant,
or
an
animal;
see
if
it
fits
into
the
global
pattern.
If
it
does,
if
it
is
consistent
with
the
underlying
order
in
the
pattern,
then
the
chances
are
it
will
be
classified
as
pure
and
edible.
If
it
does
not,
the
likelihood
is
that
it
will
be
considered
the
op-
posite.
It
is
disorder
that
gives
rise
to
pollution.
It
is
quite
obvious
that
such
taxonomies
have
little
in
common
with
scientific
classifications.
Nevertheless,
they
are
often
remarkably
resistant
to
change,
even
in
cases
which
imply
disastrous
nutritional
consequences.
In
a
significant
number
of
in-
stances,
one
has
to
admit
that
the
tribute
paid
to
cultural
pressures
is
such
that
it
suggests
nutritional
’madness’
rather
than
wisdom.
In
a
recent
paper,
de
Garine
(1979)
reviewed
cases
of
culturally
deter-
mined
nutritional
aberrations,
coming
to
the
conclusion
that,
as
far
as
food
habits
are
concerned,
it
is
difficult
&dquo;to
state
an
opinion
on
the
adaptive
value
of
cultural
behaviors&dquo;.
One
of
the
most
puzzling
facts
anthropology
has
to
deal
with
is
that
there
are
instances
where
cultural
traits
seem
to
prove
more
rigid
than
biology.
The
body
is
often
forced
to
adjust
to
cultural
constraints,
whereas
culture
and
social
organization
are
not
always
at East Carolina University on June 1, 2014ssi.sagepub.comDownloaded from
942
The
‘neo-Rousseauist’
assumption
One
spontaneously
dominant
type
of
answer
to
this
question
could
be
summed
up
in
the
proposition
that
’culture
perverts
nature’.
In
such
a
’neo-Rousseauist’
statement,
it
is
supposed
that
-
in
the
very
words
of
a
physiologist
(Beidler,
1975)
-
&dquo;cultural
patterns
have
overridden
man’s
natural
ability
to
balance
his
diet
and
his
calorie
expenditure
in
the
most
beneficial
way&dquo;.
The
issues
at
stake
here
are
no
less
than
these
of
the
co-evolution
of
biology
and
culture,
the
nature
and
function
of
culture.
If
one
accepts
the
-
to
me
reasonable
-
assumption
that
culture
does
not
live in
thin
air
by
itself,
that
after
all
it
consists
of
practices
and
representations
occurring
in
and
among
live
creatures;
if
one
accepts
as
a
possible
consequence
that
cultural
evolution,
though
distinct
and
obeying
rules
largely
different
from
those
governing
biological
evolution,
cannot
yet
be
totally
autonomous;
if
there
is
such
a
thing
as
biocultural
co-evolution;
then
one
may
wonder
whether
indeed,
in
the
contemporary
situation,
it
is
’Culture’
that
disturbs
the
proper
functioning
of
the
physiological
hardware,
and
what
could
possibly
have
made
such
a
dysfunction
possible.
Obviously,
from
such
an
interrogation
arise
more
questions
than
answers.
One
outcome
is
that
the
’neo-Rousseauist’
assumption
ap-
pears
highly
questionable
under
such
light.
Two
series
of
points,
I
believe,
have
to
be
made
against
the
’culture
perverts
nature’
proposition.
I.
Instead
of
the
situation
being
regarded
as
’culture
perverting
nature’,
it
ought
to
be
analyzed
as
the
breakdown
of
the
%it’
be-
tween
human
biology
and
the
environment,
the
latter
having
been
radically
modified
by
social
evolution.
We
are,
biologically
speak-
ing,
not
very
different
from
our
hunting-gathering
ancestors.
Our
genotype
is
millions
of
years
old,
but
we
live
in
an
industrial
society
which,
as
Lionel
Tiger
(1978)
points
out,
has
not
yet
reached
its
se-
cond
century
of
age.
Examples
are
available
to
illustrate
and
support
this
statement.
The
first
one
is
that
of
the
taste
for
sweets.
The
’sweet
tooth’
is
shared
by
a
great
many
species
and
there
is
good
evidence
that
it
is
largely
innate.
Human
newborns
show
a
clear
preference
for
sweetened
solutions
over
pure
water.
Increas-
ing
the
concentration
of
sugar
(sucrose)
results
in
an
increased
in-
at East Carolina University on June 1, 2014ssi.sagepub.comDownloaded from
943
take.
Also,
the
addition
of
sugar
makes
bitter
or
salty
solutions
ac-
ceptable
(Desor
et
al.,
1973;
1975;
Maller
and
Desor,
1974).
Satiety
thresholds
are
higher
for
sweets
than
for
other
foods,
which
may
account
for
the
fact
that
dessert
is
usually
taken
at
the
end
of
the
meal:
when
satiety
is
attained,
sugar
remains
desirable
(J.
Le
Magnen,
personal
communication).
Some
major
historical
developments
are
related
to
the
sweet
tooth:
as
early
as
the
sixteenth
century,
the
extension
of
the
col-
onies
and
of
sugar
cane
cultivation
in
the
newly
conquered
ter-
ritories
went
hand
in
hand
with
the
extension
of
slavery
(Aykroyd,
1967;
Deer,
1950; Tannahill,
1974).
In
traditional,
agricultural
societies
with
a
diet
usually
based
on
a
staple
high
in
carbohydrates,
sugar
was
relatively
rare,
highly
priz-
ed
and
its
use
subject
to
strict
rules.
However,
after
the
’sweet
revolution’
caused
by
the
development
of
beet
sugar
at
the
begin-
ning
of
the
nineteenth
century,
sucrose
became
increasingly
abun-
dant
and
cheap.
Since
1900,
world
consumption
has
been
multiplied
tenfold,
and
today
Americans
eat
more
sugar
than
flour
(FTC,
1978).
Craving
for
sweetness
may
have
had
adaptive
value
as
long
as
fruits
and
wild
honey
were
the
only
available
sweet
foods,
for
they
are
a
quick,
convenient
source
of
calories.
But
in
a
world
submerged
by
cheap
and
often
’invisible’
sugar
(factory
prepared,
sugar-added
foods)
over-consumption
has
become
a
medical
pro-
blem :
the
sweet
tooth
has
become
maladaptive
and
we
find
ourselves
with
what
psychologist
Donald
Campbell
calls
an
’inborn
temptation
to
sin’
(Campbell,
1977;
Fischler,
1979a).
The
second
example
is,
in
more
ways
than
one,
linked
to
the
previous
one.
There
are
good
reasons
to
hypothesize
that
certain
forms
of
predisposition
to
obesity
could
be
ascribed
to
a
similar
kind
of
explanation
(Stini,
1980).
Obese
individuals
may
often
be
considered
as
’energy
savers’,
in
the
sense
that
their
metabolism
has
a
comparatively
greater
ability
to
store
calories
in
the
form
of
fat,
whereas
lean
individuals
are
’wasting’
energy
by
burning
their
calories
instead
of
storing
them
(Payne,
personal
communication).
Obviously,
the
’energy
saver’
would
be
at
a
considerable
advan-
tage
during
periods
of
cyclic
shortage.
Conversely,
constant
abun-
dance
and
lack
of
exercise
could
turn
him
into
an
obese
individual,
and
the
advantage
into
a
handicap.
II.
The
second
and,
in
my
view,
essential
argument
that
has
to
be
at East Carolina University on June 1, 2014ssi.sagepub.comDownloaded from
944
made
against
the
’neo-Rousseauist’
assumption
is
this:
the
recent
evolution
of
cultural
patterns
with
regard
to
food
and
eating
in
contemporary
urban
industrial
societies
shows
that
the
upsetting
of
the
nutritional
balance
seems
to
be
related,
not
just
to
cultural
pat-
terns
as
such,
but
rather
to
a
crisis
of
cultural
patterns.
Con-
siderable
changes
have
occurred
in
the
production,
distribution
and
consumption
of
food,
along
with
modifications
in
social
organiza-
tion
and
ways
of
life.
Modern
society
is
undergoing
accelerated
mutations
that
determine
a
general
crisis
in
the
framework
of
social
life
and
in
the
way
individuals
relate
to
each
other
and
to
society.
The
evidence
is
that
traditional
institutions,
socio-cultural
patterns,
scales
of
values
(Bejin,
1976)
are
subject
to
processes
of
disintegra-
tion,
be
it
in
the
field
of
sexuality,
family
life,
traditional
values,
or
of
course
food
habits.
Consequently,
if
something
is
to
be
learned
about
the
relationship
between
biology
and
culture
from
the
study
of
modern
societies,
it
should
not
be
forgotten
that
one
is
dealing
with
weakened,
not
strengthened
cultural
patterns
and
constraints.
Without
elaborating,
I
shall
briefly
examine
only
two
aspects
of
this
crisis.
The
first
one
derives
from
a
brief
comparison
between
tradi-
tional
rural
and
modern
industrial
societies.
In
the
traditional
societies,
say
France
and
Western
Europe
in
the
nineteenth
century
(and
well into
the
twentieth),
food
was
subject
to
powerful
con-
straints,
from
the
ecological,
economic
and
social
points
of
view.
Production
was
based
on
a
diversified
domestic
ecosystem
(Harris,
1969)
upon
which
consumption
almost
exclusively
depended.
Only
a
small
number
of
foodstuffs
came
from
outside
the
domestic
ecosystem,
for
instance
spices,
salt,
sugar.
Hence
the
diet
was
highly
repetitious,
monotonous,
except
at
times
of
feasts
and
celebrations,
when
’rich’
and
’rare’
foods
were
consumed.
It
was
also
cyclic,
in
the
sense
that
seasonality
was
a
capital
dimension.
In
such
a
situation
the
social
and
cultural
framework
of
eating
habits
is
remarkably
stable,
rigid,
almost
coercive.
There
are
religious
prohibitions
and
prescriptions,
all
sorts
of
ritualized
social
occasions.
There
is
a
fixed
number
of
meals,
each
with
a
precise
’grammar’
or
’syntax’
to
it.
There
are
particular
foods
for
par-
ticular
people
-
food
for
children,
for
adolescents,
manly
and
womanly
foods,
foods
for
pregnant
wives
and
lactating
mothers,
food
for
the
young
and
for
the
old.
How
do
contemporary
industrial
societies
compare
in
this
respect?
Modern
ecosystems
are
hyperspecialized
(Barrau,
1974)
in
at East Carolina University on June 1, 2014ssi.sagepub.comDownloaded from