I’ve accumulated a number of interesting readings over the last few weeks, most related in at least some way to ladybusiness, and I thought I would give my readers a chance to procrastinate too.
- PhD in Parenting: 4 Ways Parents Can Help Break Down Society’s Gender Assumptions. This is the fourth in a four-part series on society, gender and kids. Annie does a great job being thoughtful about where parents can intervene, and how to have a healthy perspective on what we can and cannot do about kids’ need to conform. As a parent to a four year old girl, I’ve got a bit of a post related to these topics brewing myself.
- Geek Mom: Mayim Bialik, You Disappoint Me. Marziah explains what it means to be a role model, and the difference between passive, personal beliefs and pushing them on others. A post I hope Bialik reads before continuing to promote not vaccinating her children.
Delight in science
- The Science and Entertainment Exchange: How I Learned to Stop Worrying (About Science Accuracy) and Learned to Love the Story. Phil Plait shares the moment he realized he was getting too focused on picking on science accuracy, and forgot the great ways that science in movies can inspire.
- Cross-Check: What Thomas Kuhn Really Thought About Scientific “Truth.” John Horgan revives and edits a 1996 interview piece on Thomas Kuhn. As someone who only struggled through part of The Structure of Scientific Revolutions before giving up, this was an interesting read.
- The Mermaid’s Tale: You, scientist, we want you to get ahead… but not too FAR ahead! Ken Weiss writes on a recent piece in BioEssays on the pitfalls in science around trying to have transformative ideas. The comment thread is also great.
- Open Culture: Neil deGrasse Tyson Delivers the Greatest Science Sermon Ever. A great speech by one of my biggest science-crushes.
- Big Think Blog: “Breast” Behavior: A Q&A with Katie Hinde. Kayt Sukel interviews brilliant lactation biologist Katie Hinde (I can say this because she is a friend and book co-editor, and also because it is true). Katie shares her perspective on the current breastfeeding Mommy Warz.
- The Primate Diaries: Out of the Mouth of Babes. Eric Michael Johnson also covers this current topic, providing some comparative depth by looking at some of our primate relatives and their breastfeeding practices. Nathaniel Gold also made the fantastic chimpanzee Time cover.
Don’t look away (for two very different reasons)
- Wine & Bowties: Where Children Sleep. Provocative, often jarring images of the conditions in which children across the world sleep.
- Io9: The mouth of a child is a terrifying thing to behold. Am I weird that I found this picture fascinating? I can’t wait to show this to my kid, because she is really interested in teeth right now. Oh, before you click, I should tell you it’s the skull of a small child with part of the jaw cut away so you can see the adult teeth sitting on top of the baby teeth, ready to descend.
- Think Progress Alyssa: Study: Women are Objects, Men are People. Alyssa Rosenberg (who I think I taught when I was a grad student at Yale) breaks down a recent study showing that a sample of people processed images of women as objects and images of men as people.
- The Nation. Year of the (Young) Woman. A great piece by Jessica Valenti (if I have a science-crush on Tyson, I have a feminist-crush on Valenti) engaging with current events around reproductive justice, and the way young women have been at the forefront of these discussions.
- Hell Yeah Scarleteen: 60 Percent Of Young Adults Misinformed About Birth Control As Abstinence-Only Education Flourishes: Study. The folks at Scarleteen report on a recent study. And if you don’t know who they are, well, you need to find out.
- Whatever: Straight White Male: The Lowest Difficulty Setting There Is. John Scalzi writes something only a straight white male can safely write, and does it brilliantly.
Posters are one of the first ways junior scientists learn to communicate information. In high school students use those three-part poster boards for science fairs. In undergrad research symposia and beyond, scientists make a single flat poster, the dimensions varying by the conference but usually in a horizontal layout. The research poster is how much research is presented, and it’s a great way to get feedback from your colleagues, since you’re standing right next to it while they pore over the text and images as you try to decide whether it’s the right time to introduce yourself to Dr. Famous.
Posters are hard to get right. How much text is too much? What color schemes will draw people to your poster rather than make them cringe? Dr. Zen Faulkes has a series of posts over at his blog called The Zen of Presentations that provides some great insight; I regularly send my students his way. But I also wanted to develop a hands-on way for my students to think about how to communicate their science in poster form.
Earlier this semester, inspired by a talk by Neal Lerner on science communication where he did a similar poster exercise, I used half of my upper level reproductive ecology seminar to work with my students on how research is presented. First, I sent them off to the main hallway in our building that displays biological anthropology and archaeology posters, asking them to find the posters that were the most visually striking, the most interesting, and the least striking or interesting, and bring that information back. It was apparently going very well, because I eventually had to go find them to bring them back to the classroom.
Once we returned to the classroom, I asked students to share what they liked and didn’t like. Why was one poster successful where another wasn’t? In a few cases disciplinary biases impacted the posters they liked, but most of the time their preference was driven by design features. The posters that were striking, confident and accessible were the clear favorites.
In his talk, Lerner described four major design features one must consider in poster presentation: contrast (of color, space or size), repetition (repeating visual elements), alignment (each element should have a visual connection to each other) and proximity (items that relate to each other should be near each other). We talked about those posters that succeeded with these features, and how one would produce a poster that respected them.
Then the fun began.
Justin Bieber’s Hair
Once I was confident that my students understood the importance of poster design, I broke the class two groups. Their task? To provide an argument, and design a poster, based on this rather interesting correlation:
For the last few years, one of the running jokes in my lab has involved a striking physical (or rather, follicular) similarity between biological anthropology researcher Dana Ahern (now a University of Illinois graduate!) and multi-platinum pop superstar Justin Bieber. I thought this observed correlation would make an excellent foundation to help students think about how to demonstrate causality, present a convincing argument, and visually represent their ideas. So I gave the two groups about ten minutes to discuss and sketch out their posters.
Here is what they came up with.
Group 1 not only came up with an interesting argument for the relationship between Bieber and Ahern hair, the poster represented the inaugural research of the new University of Illinois Department of Celebrity Studies, of which these students are of course the founding co-chairs.
These co-chairs argue that Ahern and Bieber are long-lost twins. Plotting the major life events of the two individuals in question (note when Bieber met Usher, and when he “gained a sultry voice”), they claim the two have matured in eerily similar ways (well, except Ahern never met Usher that we know of, but her voice is surely sultry).
For the purposes of this exercise though, the design features are the most important. The poster authors came up with a compelling title, used the university logo in a top corner, and the traditional three column format. The authors also do a nice job with their image: a timeline is a great choice given their argument about long lost twins, and centering it on the poster draws the eye. In all, it was a thoughtful contribution to the exercise.
Group 2 had a conflict of interest in their project because Ahern was a participant, but I let it slide since their grade was again based more on the design features of the poster. This group argues that Justin Bieber has been secretly spying on Dana Ahern and stealing her style. They demonstrate that each of Ahern’s haircuts has preceded Bieber’s by as much as a week. They also claim that Bieber’s stolen hairstyle is largely responsible for his rise to fame, and indicate that Ahern then deserves a share of his profits.
As for design features, this group also chose a great title, used the three column format, and also have a timeline, though it falls along the bottom of the poster. This poster’s images are also in the center of the poster. I would have liked to see the Ahern and Bieber images side by side rather than separated by a glossary, and the glossary moved to a less prominent position. But again, I think these students did a great job thinking about format and style in putting together a poster in only minutes.
The most gratifying part of this exercise is that three of the seven students in this class went on to have posters in our university’s undergraduate research symposium (alas, none on Justin Bieber), and we workshopped early versions of those posters in later weeks. The final versions were all clear, strong, and compelling presentations of their work.
And to think, a great learning session on science communication that all started with Justin Bieber!
Once a week I get four allergy shots and then sit in a small waiting room for thirty minutes to make sure I don’t have any adverse reactions. Today, my husband came along to spend some time with me and make use of the free wi-fi. We chatted quietly while he did some service work and I finished up my grading.
I noticed an older white woman, fifty or sixtysomething, balancing her checkbook while sitting at the kids table a few feet from us. She couldn’t seem to resist commenting on each patient as they came in to sit down (To one man: “Are you Egyptian? You’re dark!” To a probably male newborn: “What a strong boy you’ll be!” To my husband: “You must be smart, I don’t know all the words you are saying!”).
Eventually, a young woman enters with a little boy in tow. She starts to read to her child in a singsong voice. “Now can you find the TREE?!?!?” she almost screams. “How about the bird? DO YOU SEE THE BIRD?!?!?”
The older woman interrupts the book. “That’s so good that you read to him. How old is your boy?”
“And he already likes to read! That’s amazing. You must stay at home with him.”
“I sure do. I have three boys.”
“Yes, I quit medical school to be with them.”
“Oh well, yes, that is good. You know, God blesses mothers who stay at home.”
My jaw tenses, but I continue to grade.
“Yes, it’s where I should be. My husband is studying to get his MD/PhD, so it makes more sense for me to stay at home with the boys.”
My teeth begin to grind, but I continue to grade.
“That’s good, dear. School can always wait but your children cannot. I wish more mothers knew that. The children always turn out better when the mother stays at home. I used to be a teacher so I know.”
The mother nods and goes back to reading to her child. “Is that Oscar the Grouch? What COLOR is OSCAR?!?”
I try not to fantasize roller derby hip checks, and continue to grade.
The older woman’s time is up before mine and she leaves, which I regret. Because when it’s my turn to have my injections checked, I turn to my husband, calling him loudly. “Come on, FELLOW WORKING PARENT, it’s time to go!”
And I storm out.
* * *
In the car on the way to work, my husband and I talked about how often I come across this perspective, that there is a higher value in mothers who stay at home, and how he never hears from colleagues or friends that he would have higher value if he were to stay at home. But rather than enter into some debate that tries to place a working or non-working mother on the higher pedestal, I think it’s worth noticing that all mothers have help. All of them. Childcare and babysitting, school, camp, government support, a partner with a paycheck, family members’ time or money, all of these things support a mother as she raises a child. No mother does it alone, which means a mother who stays at home is not automatically more blessed or noble than one who does not.
Perhaps more importantly, our ancestral mothers did not stay at home and watch their children alone, the TV or radio the closest thing to adult company. My last post discussed the concept of pooled energy budgets, which requires cooperative breeding and transfers of labor and energy to maximize reproductive success. Our ancestral mothers likely got help from fathers (Marlowe, 2004), other mothers , lovers, friends, community members (Hill and Hurtado, 2009), grandmothers (Hawkes et al., 1997), even younger siblings (Kramer et al., 2009). Entire books have been written on this topic (Hrdy, 2009; Kramer, 2005), and conversations have bridged across genetics, anthropology, psychology and biology (Burkart and Van Schaik, 2010; Fox et al., 2010; Kramer, 2010; van Schaik and Burkart, 2010).
There is substantial evidence to support the idea that in our evolutionary history, mothers who had helpers did far better than those who did not, and that the social and cognitive skills needed to give and receive help are part of what make us uniquely human and intelligent (Burkart and Van Schaik, 2010; Kramer, 2010; van Schaik and Burkart, 2010). When children receive allocare it helps their development of social coordination and tolerance as well as positive social behaviors, and when those allomothers (which I’m trying to use in a gender neutral way) learn to care for children it helps them build attentional biases and responsiveness to others. Allomothering, to some researchers, is the foundational mechanism for what has made us a socially intelligent species.
So today, soon after Mother’s Day, I want to celebrate Allomother’s Day and thank all of my allomothers.
- Thank you to my husband, who brings home a salary, shares equally in housework and childcare, loves our child tenderly and fiercely, and is my staunchest supporter.
- Thank you to my salary as well, for helping us to afford food, shelter, care, and fun stuff for our daughter.
- Thank you to my sister, who lived in Illinois with us for a year and a half when our daughter was younger, and watched the kiddo many an afternoon or evening.
- Thank you to my parents, who shower the kiddo with gifts, hugs and kisses and who help with pick ups and drop offs when they visit.
- Thank you to my husband’s parents, who introduced the kiddo to Fancy Nancy and Angry Birds, and who cook up many inventive games when they visit.
- Thank you to my roller derby leaguemates, who keep my kid out of danger, out of seeing when I get hurt on the rink, who take her to the potty, and who help to tire her out so she sleeps well. They have done this without being asked, out of sheer kindness and love, over and over again.
- Thank you to our many babysitters who have loved our kiddo, taken her to the park, fed her dinner and tucked her into bed.
- Thank you to the kiddo’s amazing, progressive, loving preschool teachers, who have taught her more social and emotional skills in two semesters than I ever thought possible, all while keeping her safe, building her motivation, and getting her to stick up for herself.
- Thank you to our daycare provider, who loves the kiddo like her own and teachers all the children she watches to love and nurture one another.
- Thank you to my friends and neighbors, who have taken the kiddo on play dates to their house when they see the haunted look in my eyes that I am behind at work, and who have said they will be my family and my backup because I live so far from my parents and in laws.
- And finally, thank you to my internet posse, who provides emotional support even though I’ve met so few of you in person.
These kindnesses bring me to tears whenever I stop and think about it. It’s hard for someone like me who, though a potent swirl of genes and environment, has become a very, very independent person who does not like to rely on anyone. I have learned a lot about building a network and trusting others because of the cooperative breeding in my life.
Burkart JM, Van Schaik CP. 2010. Cognitive consequences of cooperative breeding in primates? Animal cognition 13(1):1-19.
Fox M, Sear R, Beise J, Ragsdale G, Voland E, Knapp LA. 2010. Grandma plays favourites: X-chromosome relatedness and sex-specific childhood mortality. Proceedings of the Royal Society B: Biological Sciences 277(1681):567-573.
Hawkes K, O’Connell JF, Blurton Jones NG. 1997. Hadza women’s time allocation, offspring provisioning, and the evolution of long postmenopausal life spans. Current Anthropology 38(4):551-577.
Hill K, Hurtado AM. 2009. Cooperative breeding in South American hunter–gatherers. Proceedings of the Royal Society B: Biological Sciences 276(1674):3863-3870.
Hrdy SB. 2009. Mothers and others: The evolutionary origins of mutual understanding: Belknap Press.
Kramer K. 2005. Maya children: helpers at the farm: Harvard Univ Pr.
Kramer KL. 2010. Cooperative breeding and its significance to the demographic success of humans. Annual Review of Anthropology 39:417-436.
Kramer KL, Greaves RD, Ellison PT. 2009. Early reproductive maturity among Pumé foragers: implications of a pooled energy model to fast life histories. AMERICAN JOURNAL OF HUMAN BIOLOGY 21(4):430-437.
Marlowe FW. 2004. What explains Hadza food sharing. Research in economic Anthropology 23:69-88.
van Schaik CP, Burkart JM. 2010. Mind the gap: cooperative breeding and the evolution of our unique features. Mind the gap: tracing the origins of human universals:477-497.
Who makes your food? Do you live alone and do everything yourself, or are you part of a partnership, roommate situation, or extended family where food is shared? Most likely, the more complicated your living situation, the more complicated the food allocation. Perhaps one person buys the food and another cooks it, or everyone shares in the acquiring and making but you don’t all like the same stuff, so sometimes you have to make an extra peanut butter and jelly sandwich for the kid who hates curry night.
Humans share both food and labor. To some extent, we allocate food based on status (“The Big Piece of Chicken” from Chris Rock’s Bigger and Blacker – warning, profanity (and a splash of sexism) ahead!):
Maybe you’re the parent who always gets the big piece of chicken, or maybe you’re the roommate who always seems to have his leftovers stolen. The question is, why? What implications does this have for your own stress and energy stores, and ultimately your reproductive success?
The concept of pooled energy budgets
A series of papers over the last few years by Karen Kramer, Meredith Reiches, Peter Ellison and others raises exactly this question. In particular, they take on the paradox of slow human life histories – the fact that we take a long time to grow up, mature, be fully independent and have our own offspring – with fast reproduction – once we can have kids we are capable of having many overlapping, dependent offspring (Kramer and Ellison, 2010).
Consider that the age at first birth among many hunter-gatherer populations is in the late teens (Kramer et al., 2009), yet individuals in these populations often aren’t fully competent hunters and foragers until their thirties (Gurven et al., 2006; Kramer et al., 2009; Walker et al., 2002). Among industrialized populations, our average age at first birth is in the mid to late twenties (and here are CDC stats for the US only), but our average full financial independence equally late (that’s not to say there aren’t many teens and young adults fully independent from parents, but also many folks into their twenties and thirties are still getting loans, help with down payments, or gifts that help financially).
This gap would not do among non-human primates: most primates become independent foragers very early in their lives, and so what they collect, they eat. If they can’t get enough food to survive, they certainly won’t be allocating any of that energy towards reproduction, and so their reproductive success will be low or zero.
How do we handle the years between age at first birth and full independence? How do we take so long to mature, using up parental resources all the while, yet still manage to have a decent number of babies? Humans manage to circumvent our very slow and dependent juvenile period, and therefore have plenty of energy for reproduction, through transfers of energy (food, or in industrial societies money for food) and labor (especially childcare) between individuals.
When individuals hunt or forage, many are able to bring in more than they themselves will eat, and this gets shared among their family or community. Individuals in different reproductive states may even contribute more to their households to increase their indirect fitness, as has been found with grandmothers in Hadza foragers (Hawkes et al., 1997), and in suitors (Hawkes et al., 1997) or fathers (Marlowe, 2001), perhaps to offset potentially lower foraging capabilities of a pregnant or breastfeeding mother. And many increasingly agree that humans are a cooperatively breeding species (Hrdy, 2008), meaning that labor transfers of childcare can happen pretty often.
It’s great that we share, and that foraging and childcare behavior is responsive to one’s context and in the context of one’s family. This means that one’s social environment may play a significant role in the amount of energy and time you have for survival and reproduction (Reiches et al., 2009).
Why pooled energy budgets are cool
Understanding where our energy comes from – who has it easy and who has it hard in the daily labor of food acquisition – can help us understand a number of interesting things that vary among human populations. For instance, lighter juvenile workloads can contribute to faster juvenile growth. I’ve talked about the Pumé foragers before as an example of a population with relatively early reproduction. Kramer et al (2009) have shown that Pumé girls reach menarche and first birth earlier than most foragers (check out the first image in this post). These girls tend to have lower foraging expectations placed on them, which indirectly increases their energy budgets, as what would have gone towards foraging effort can now go towards maintenance and reproduction. This contributes to how they achieve faster growth and earlier reproductive maturity.
Understanding the nature of energy transfers can also help us understand cooperative breeding. In populations where pregnant and breastfeeding mothers’ foraging workloads are still high, are they getting respite from childcare to offset these costs? Who helps more: peers, fathers, maternal grandmothers or paternal grandmothers? What factors drive variation in allocare between populations? I wonder how varied these behaviors are even within a population: perhaps some mothers prefer foraging to childcare, or vice versa, and so find themselves doing more of one or the other. And I wonder if any of this could have an ultimate effect on reproductive success, depending on the environment and difficulty foraging.
But what I find really interesting is that some individuals may get more or less food through these energy transfers based on status, kinship, and friendship. That is, who you know, who your mother or father is, the kind of culture you come from and whether it treats some kinds of people better or worse, this may all have an ultimate impact on an individual’s energy budget. This is on top of the already documented impact of social environment on stress and health (e.g., Albert et al., 2008; Kiecolt-Glaser et al., 2010; Miller et al., 2002). So there are at least two very significant ways in which our social environment affects wellness and reproductive success: an energy-based mechanism and a stress-based mechanism, and they are not mutually exclusive paths.
Starting from the pooled energy budgets model resolves a lot of the bickering that can occur about which ecological factor is “most” important to reproduction. The reality is, no matter how much I and others love to talk about inflammation, stress, immune function and other stuff, all of these factors ultimately impact the body through allocation of resources – through energy. The pooled energy budget concept gives a space for all these factors, and a useful framework to understand them.
Albert MA, Ravenell J, Glynn RJ, Khera A, Halevy N, de Lemos JA. 2008. Cardiovascular risk indicators and perceived race/ethnic discrimination in the Dallas Heart Study. American heart journal 156(6):1103-1109.
Gurven M, Kaplan H, Gutierrez M. 2006. How long does it take to become a proficient hunter? Implications for the evolution of extended development and long life span. Journal of Human Evolution 51(5):454-470.
Hawkes K, O’Connell JF, Blurton Jones NG. 1997. Hadza women’s time allocation, offspring provisioning, and the evolution of long postmenopausal life spans. Current Anthropology 38(4):551-577.
Hrdy S. 2008. Evolutionary context of human development: the cooperative breeding model. In: Salmon C, Shackelford T, editors. Family relationships: an evolutionary perspective: Oxford University Press.
Kiecolt-Glaser JK, Gouin J-P, Hantsoo L. 2010. Close relationships, inflammation, and health. Neuroscience & Biobehavioral Reviews 35(1):33-38.
Kramer KL, Ellison PT. 2010. Pooled Energy Budgets: Resituating Human Energy Allocation Trade-offs. Evolutionary Anthropology 19:136-147.
Kramer KL, Greaves RD, Ellison PT. 2009. Early reproductive maturity among Pumé foragers: implications of a pooled energy model to fast life histories. American Journal of Human Biology 21(4):430-437.
Marlowe F. 2001. Male contribution to diet and female reproductive success among foragers. Current Anthropology 42(5):755-760.
Miller GE, Stetler CA, Carney RM, Freedland KE, Banks WA. 2002. Clinical depression and inflammatory risk markers for coronary heart disease. The American Journal of Cardiology 90(12):1279-1283.
Reiches MW, Ellison PT, Lipson SF, Sharrock KC, Gardiner E, Duncan LG. 2009. Pooled energy budget and human life history. American Journal of Human Biology 21(4):421-429.
Walker R, Hill K, Kaplan H, McMillan G. 2002. Age-dependency in hunting ability among the Ache of Eastern Paraguay. Journal of Human Evolution 42(6):639-657.
Anthropology is an inherently interdisciplinary field. We draw from evolutionary theory, feminist theory, critical race theory, we compare within and between primates, we even manage to work with the occasional rodent or suid species. There are anthropologists who make models, anthropologists who theorize, anthropologists in the field and the lab, anthropologists who study those long dead, recently dead, living and even those not yet alive. You can find us in anthropology departments, sure, but you can also find us in biology, sociology, psychology, community health and education departments; in businesses, hospitals, museums, zoos, and non-profits, and countless other places I’m forgetting.
So it’s interesting to me that within anthropology we have four fields: biological, cultural, and linguistic anthropology, and archaeology. Then within those four fields we have further subfields: within bio we have human biology, primatology, paleoecology, morphology, genetics to name a few, and even within those are sub-sub-fields. Some of the subfields collaborate, and some never read each other. Part of the reason I was so excited to collaborate with Katie Hinde and Julienne Rutherford on Building Babies was that I would get more of a chance to read the non-human primate literature, something we human biologists are sometimes known to ignore more than is good for us.
Then there’s biocultural anthropology. Biocultural anthropology is not actually that new, and there are some truly excellent practitioners. But more recently there has been a spate of work in anthropology claiming to take a “biocultural approach” that does not appear to be derived from these folks. I had the chance recently to chat with some colleagues about recent work on the biocultural approach, and found I was not the only one stymied, perhaps even frustrated, by this work.
Some work that claims to be biocultural doesn’t really appear to be biological, nor is it cultural, because it is atheoretical and happens to use biological and cultural methods. Some of it leans in some sort of theoretical direction, but then the methods are inscrutable.
How is it that a field that is so good at being interdisciplinary cannot do a good job interdisciplinary-ing itself?
What Does It Mean to Be Interdisciplinary?
A few of these venting sessions with colleagues just happened to be followed by a talk by Dr. Liam Heneghan, co-director of the DePaul Institute for Nature and Culture, environmental science professor, and philosophy PhD student (also, a blogger!). Heneghan’s talk was sponsored by the University of Illinois Institute for Genomic Biology, where some of us are trying to be all interdisciplinary ourselves. The talk was titled: “Interdisciplinarity: is it necessary, possible, or useful – a discussion.” In addition to several interesting books that I am going to have to dig through this summer, Heneghan offered a very hopeful picture for interdisciplinarity. Here are a few of my takeaways, as applied to the problem of the biocultural approach.
Being interdisciplinary isn’t the same as being a little good at everything, consistent with the saying “jack of all trades, master of none.” Heneghan analyzed the footnotes of one of the most popular interdisciplinary works, The Ecological Thought by Timothy Morton, and found it represents typical biodiversity quite well: the strongest influences by a few fields with, as he says, “a trailing edge of rarer species.” At least one model of being interdisciplinary, then, is to be very good in one field, pretty good in a few more, and then conversant across others. Some of the work I’ve been reading never masters that first field. And so there is something less than ideal in how we are training our students.
Students who want to become good biocultural anthropologists must first become experts in biological or cultural anthropology. Scholars need a base from which to reach out to other disciplines. If you are not thoroughly trained as one or the other, you will have a lot of trouble bridging them, or using your critical thinking skills to help ease you into a new field. This also suggests being thoughtful about undergraduate and graduate curriculum: while initial coursework should make someone an expert in their first field, learning a mixed methods approach for research probably wouldn’t hurt.
We also need to identify the essential reading for biocultural anthropology. What is the canon? What do biological anthropologists need to read to become conversant in cultural anthro? What do cultural anthropologists need to read to become conversant in bio anthro? I can probably identify most of the biological readings, but certainly not the cultural, and hope my readers do.
Next, identify the core questions that a biocultural approach can tackle better than any other. If a bio or cultural approach would satisfy the question, but you are tacking on the other field because it seems sexy, your grant proposal or manuscript submission is unlikely to make it through. But if you can recognize a problem that only this approach can solve you will be able to better develop the theory.
Finally, be ambitious. When I suggest we should make sure students and junior colleagues develop high competency in one discipline first and then thoroughly read one if not several others, I am not trying to deter people away from a biocultural approach. It’s just that the field will be better served by rigorous, developed, thoughtful research. Be ambitious in your projects, your goals, your research trajectories, and encourage ambition in those you mentor. But the lesson I have learned the hard way over and over is that ambition, excitement yet not thorough training will get you burned. I want my students, and any other budding biocultural anthropologists, to be kicking my ass in five to ten years because they know the literature and methods better than me.
What am I missing? Am I being too hard on the field? What biocultural curricula are you a part of, and what is or isn’t working? This is really just the most preliminary version of my thoughts on this, and so I welcome your comments.