[From Alan Macfarlane, The Savage Wars of
Peace; England, Japan and the Malthusian Trap (Blackwell, 1997)]
p.1
Introduction
This book attempts to solve part of a problem
that has haunted me for over
thirty years. My first memory of being really
stirred by the question of
the origins of industrial civilization, and in
particular the relations between
population and economic development, was as an
undergraduate reading history
at Oxford when writing an essay on the causes of
the industrial revolution in
England. Surveying the state of the argument as
to whether it was rising birth
rates or falling death rates which had led to the
surge of population in England
from the middle of the eighteenth century, it
appeared that scholars were almost
equally divided on the degree to which population
growth was a cause or a
consequence of the industrial revolution in
England, and what caused that
growth. I still remember my excitement at
discovering a problem which was so
clearly a puzzle to some of the best historians
of the period.
It
seemed obvious that mortality was dropping, yet all the theories to explain
why this happened were clearly inadequate.
'Higher living standards' seemed
to be important, but what these were was left
vague; of particular medical
changes, the disappearance of plague was
mentioned though it was not clear why
this had happened; changes in the habits of lice,
better nutrition, absence of
war, improvements in hygiene, medical
improvements, even a change in the
virulence of disease were canvassed. Scholars
appeared to be circling round a
large problem yet unable to resolve it - better
at knocking down theories than
building them up. It was possible for me as an
undergraduate to show that the
decline of plague had happened too early (it
disappeared two generations before
the rapid growth of population); that there was
no evidence of viral changes; that
the medical improvements were insignificant, with
the possible exception
of smallpox inoculation, that the nutritional
improvements were very
questionable, as were improvements in hygiene.
2
Then there was a similar puzzle in relation to
fertility. An almost equal
number of authors believed that this was the
crucial variable. But what caused
the rise in fertility? The only reasons given
were that it was due to the same
rising living standards which affected fertility,
perhaps by allowing people
to marry younger. Yet again the arguments and
evidence seemed weak and
inconclusive.
Part
of the difficulty appeared to be caused by the fact that data on mortality,
nuptiality and fertility was so poor, as it was
based on aggregative analysis
(totals of baptisms, marriage and burials from
parish registers). I did not then
know that French demographers were developing a
new technique, 'family
reconstitution', which would transform our
understanding of the past by giving
much more precise statistics on marital
fertility, infant mortality and age at
marriage. The method was first applied to English
data by E.A.Wrigley in his
work on Colyton in Devon. Along with the
exploration of early listings of
inhabitants by Peter Laslett, this made the
period of the mid-to-late sixties an
enormously exciting one in English historical
demography. The academic work
was given practical relevance by a growing
awareness of ecological and demo-
graphic problems at a world level.
Some
of the results of these new findings were summarized in my first
publication, an article in New Society (10 Oct.
1968) in which I wrote that 'We
are discovering that there was birth control in
Stuart England; that Europe had
a "unique marriage pattern", combining
high age at marriage with a large
proportion of never married persons; that the
small "nuclear" family predo-
minated in most of the pre-industrial west; that
one of the major factors permit-
ting the accumulation of capital and hence
industrial expansion in the late
eighteenth century was late marriage and the
consequent slow population
growth - roughly one quarter of I per cent per
annum in the 200 years before
industrialization.'
Despite
the new data and frameworks, the questions I had encountered in the
early 1960s were still wide open. It seemed
difficult to proceed any further in
solving the large question about the relations
between industrialization and
population by remaining within the European
context. This was one of the
lessons to be drawn from the great step forward
taken when, in 1965, John
Hajnal published his essay on the European
marriage pattern. (1) By setting the
west European marriage data alongside that for
eastern Europe and Asia, he was
able to see both the major peculiarities of the
west (late age at marriage and
selective marriage) and the fact that there was a
pattern or system. On a more
limited scale a number of other demographers made
such contrasts within
Europe, for instance Wrigley between France,
England and Scandinavia.
Thus it became clear that only through a wider
method of contrast would many
(1) Hajnal, Marriage Patterns.
3
of the central features of the English
demographic past become visible at all.
In order to broaden my framework into a
comparative one I went to Nepal in
December 1968 for fifteen months, to work as an
anthropologist among a people
called the Gurungs.
It is
difficult to analyse the effects of this experience, and of nine further
trips between 1986 and 1995, in altering the way
I approached the English past.
Much of the influence was at a deep level of
perceptual shift which alters both
the questions one asks and the implicit
comparisons one has in mind when
evaluating evidence.
Witnessing
the perennial problem of disease, the sanitary arrangements, the
illness of young children, the difficulties with
water, the flies and worms, the
gruelling work and the struggle against nature in
a mountain community made
clear to me, In a way that books or even films
alone could never do, some of the
realities which the English and Japanese faced
historically.(2) Of course it was
different. Each culture is different. But to feel
in the blood and heart and to
see with one's eyes how people cope with a much
lower amount of energy,
medical care and general infrastructure makes one
aware of many things.
Without this experience I know that I could not
have written this book. Trapped
in late-twentieth-century western affluence it
would be impossible to feel or
know much of what has been important to the
majority of humans through
history. Watching and studying a village over the
years also makes one more
deeply aware, as does all anthropological work,
of the interconnectedness of
things, the holistic view of a society.
It is
important to stress this experience, for in the body of this text Nepal is
scarcely mentioned despite the fact that much of
what I have seen when exam-
ining England and Japan has become visible by
setting them against a backdrop
of Nepal. De Tocqueville once explained, my work
on America.... Though
I seldom mentioned France, I did not write a page
without thinking of her, and
placing her as it were before me.' (3) Nepal
helped me to understand the Japanese
case, which I shall shortly describe, and Japan
helped me to get England into
perspective. A straight, two-way, comparison of
either England-Nepal or Japan-
England would not have been enough.
At the
theoretical level, the Nepalese experience enabled me to look at
England, and indeed the whole of western Europe,
from the outside and to see
more clearly its demographic and economic
peculiarities. In the last chapter of
my book Resources and Population I tried to
characterize these peculiarities by
developing a model which incorporated both the
work of European historical
demographers and my Nepalese data. The model,
further modified in chapter 1
(2) My general account of the society is in
Macfarlane, Resources; a preliminary account of the medical situation is
in Macfarlane, Disease.
(3) De Tocqueville, Memoir, 1, 359.
4
of this book, differentiated between what I
called 'crisis' regimes, such as that in
Nepal in the past, where the rapid rise in
population over the last hundred years
was due to the elimination of war, famine and
epidemic disease, and 'homeos-
tatic' regimes, such as England in the past,
where fluctuation in population were
mainly due to changes in fertility rates.
When I
returned with a whole set of new data, the English historical world
began to look different. The work of Wrigley, Laslett
and others inspired me to
undertake my own family reconstitution studies to
help resolve the puzzles.
But since it was clear that demography was
embedded in the wider economic
and social context, Sarah Harrison and I
developed a technique of 'total
reconstitution' which used all the surviving
documents of a community .(4) This
enabled us to reconstruct the parish of Earls
Colne and to a lesser extent Kirkby
Lonsdale in Cumbria. A number of the factual
questions were resolved by this
method and one could make some progress.
The
combination of a large data collecting and analysis exercise and the
pressures of starting to teach anthropology meant
that I only came up for air
in 1977 and it was then that I explicitly
realized that my perception of English
history had completely changed. Using the
comparative anthropological
framework, I suspected that much of the theory
which had been developed to
understand English history since the 1950s needed
revision.
In
1977, 1 was tugged away from the themes of marriage, family and fertility
about which I had long been brooding and felt
compelled to write The Origins of
English Individualism which represents a
re-assessment of aspects of English
history in the light of my Nepalese experience
and of my growing immersion in
comparative anthropology. Hardly had the main
writing of this book been
finished when I returned to the subject of
English fertility, in particular
reflecting on what effects my shift of
interpretation of the English past had on
my understanding of that part of the demographic
puzzle concerned with
fertility.
Looking
back, my book on English individualism helped to break a deadlock
in my own thought. Wrigley and Hajnal had shown
that the marriage and
fertility side of the English situation were very
important. But the puzzle of why
there was this unusual marriage pattern remained.
It seemed that peasantry, or
a domestic mode of production, was deeply
association with high fertility and a
low age at marriage. Yet England deviated from
this. The assumption that the
English had been 'peasants' in the normal
anthropological sense appeared to be
wrong. The general theory connecting high
fertility and peasantry remained, it
was just that England might well be an exception.
In
essence, I began to understand why fertility was often low and attuned to
(4) Macfarlane et al., Reconstructing
Historical Communities, and for the documents themselves, published and
indexed in full, the Earls Colne microfiche.
5
the needs of a market economy in England. In true
'peasant' societies, based on
the domestic mode of production, to expand family
size was rational. In
England, with its early concepts of private
property and individual rights, there
were considerable 'costs' in having children.
These ideas were expanded and
published in my book on Marriage and Love in
England 1300-1840 (1986) in
which I attempted to explain the reasons for the
unusual demographic history of
England and in particular that part concerned
with restrained fertility.
It had
become obvious since Hajnal's work that the key lay in the European
marriage system and in particular a late and
selective marriage pattern which
could be varied in some sort of complex relation
to the economy. I explored the
various pressures which lay behind a system which
Thomas Malthus recognized
in his discussions of the 'preventive check' in
the second edition of his Principles
of Population. In the final chapter
I attempted to show how marriage was linked
to economic growth, and arose out of the early
capitalist and individualistic
nature of English society which I had described
in Individualism. With this book
I felt I had come to grips with the conundrum
which Wrigley had identified -
how did the marriage system work and what were
its correlates.
The
other half of the problem, that concerning mortality, had not been
addressed. I had noted that historically English
mortality patterns seemed to
be unusual. (5) Yet I had made no progress in
analysing this other side of the
demographic puzzle. This was partly because the
difficulty of solving the
problems in the field of mortality were even
greater than those in relation to
fertility. With fertility, the mechanism of how
certain levels were maintained in
Western Europe had become clear after Hajnal's
paper. In the case of mortality
none of the arguments put forward to explain the
sudden decline in English
mortality from the middle of the eighteenth
century carried conviction. We
knew that it happened, but we did not know either
how or why it happened.
With fertility, one is mainly out in the open,
dealing with visible human
motivations and institutions. With mortality, the
solutions are less visible,
involving complex chains of bacteria and viruses
affected by many human and
non-human forces.
Apart
from posing fresh questions by suggesting a great contrast between the
English and Asian case, the Nepalese experience
did not really help in its
solution. Nepal's rapid population growth from
the middle of the nineteenth
century confirmed that medical improvements were
not needed for population
growth to occur. It showed that the elimination
of war and famine was enough
to let natural fertility cause a doubling of the
population in each generation. But
none of this really helped with the English
puzzle. I had come to an insurmount-
able obstacle and it was only a chance invitation
to visit Japan in 1990 that
opened up another way of approaching the problem.
(5) Macfarlane, Culture, 15,5-6.
6
I had
long been struck by the similarity of England and Japan. Both were
islands, both passed through an authentic
'feudal' period, both were noted for a
puritanical form of world religion, and both
became pioneers of industrialization
in their respective regions. As I studied and
re-visited Japan in the 1990s, the
similarity in the shape of the population graph
in England and Japan and the fact
that both seemed, early on, to have separated
production and reproduction
suggested that it might be worth investigating
the matter further.
What
was particularly intriguing was that there now seemed to be two
exceptions to the 'normal' population patterns,
as represented by Nepal. By
investigating these two cases side by side, might
it be possible to resolve some
of those problems which still baffled historians
and demographers?
The possibility of real advance was made more
likely by the rapid
developments in social and demographic knowledge
in both England and Japan.
The general shape of what had happened in England
was becoming much
clearer, especially through the publication in
1981 of E.A.Wrigley and Roger
Schofield's Population History of England.
Furthermore, the work of a number of
Japanese and foreign scholars, who had applied
the methods of European
demographers to the voluminous Japanese records,
particularly that of
Hayami, Saito, Yamamura, Hanley, Thomas Smith
and, more recently in
relation to epidemics, Jannetta, now made a real
comparison possible for the first
time.
In this
book I start by looking at the major problem to be solved: how were
some nations able to break out of the Malthusian
trap of war, famine and
disease? War and famine are the obvious starting
place since their containment
was the foundation upon which any sustained
development would be built. If a
country is subject to war or constantly ravaged
by famine, or, more often, by
both, there is little chance of proceeding to a
level where the next threat,
epidemic disease, can be overcome.
It is
not too difficult to see how, through the chance of islandhood, England
and Japan escaped from the interlinked curses of
war and famine. But though
this gave them an advantage it is still very
difficult to understand how they
increasingly avoided epidemic disease. While it was
known that a number of
diseases did decline in England from the later
seventeenth century, and in Japan
some centuries earlier, none of the possible
causes for the decline seemed
convincing.
There
seemed few grounds for believing that the mortality decline could be
the result of medical improvements, of
environmental changes, of changes in the
virulence of disease organisms, or even
improvements in nutrition. It was much
easier to prove that each cause was insufficient;
even combined they could not be
shown to lead to the decline that was to be
explained.
In
attempting to find an explanation I have adopted several strategies. Having
dealt with war and famine as two parts of the
mortality pattern, I decided to
7
distinguish the various classes of disease. The
obvious division was between the
ways in which diseases were transmitted. Here I
followed Macfarlane Burnett's
distinction between three of the major branches
of infectious diseases: those
passing through water and food, those borne by
insect or other vectors, and
those travelling through the air.(6)
By
examining each class of disease in parallel in England and Japan I found
that a new set of questions emerged. For
instance, the absence or presence of
certain diseases in Japan threw light on the
situation in England and vice versa.
It became clear that the differences were the
result of material and cultural
features of the environment. The shock of
difference led the search towards a
number of aspects of the environment which would
have remained largely
invisible if one had remained within one culture
area.
I felt
that the way to proceed was to see which environmental factors were
associated with each of the major branches of
disease. This approach worked
reasonably well with those bacterial diseases
which are directly affected by
human practices such as the keeping of animals,
the nature of clothing, eating,
washing and so on. Yet even when an explanation
was given of how a certain set
of environmental factors caused the rise or
decline of a disease, there was often
an area of cultural practice which in turn needed
explanation. In the final section
on disease I deal with those diseases which are
most difficult to explain, namely
the air-borne epidemics where the direct
environmental approach seemed less
likely to be fruitful.
The
lowering of mortality was only one part of the escape. Having achieved
less than maximum mortality a country was faced
with the second of the
Malthusian traps - runaway population growth.
Malthus had foreseen that
humans sometimes achieve, through a windfall
resource or a new technology, a
temporary lowering of their death rate for a
generation or two. But this would
shortly be offset by a rapid rise in population
as the perennial high fertility rate
operated. This would in turn bring them
face-to-face with war, famine and new
kinds of disease. How could this second trap be
avoided?
Having established that English and Japanese fertility seems to have
been
kept well below the theoretical maximum over long
periods at a time when
wealth was increasing, I examine the three ways
in which this could be achieved.
I begin with exposure to sexual intercourse, that
is the pattern of marriage and
sexual relations which brings women and men
together. I then look at the
impediments to conception, in other words the
biological factors (such as sick-
ness, work strain, lactation) and contraceptive
technologies which prevent
conception in the first place. I then look at the
third area, that is the treatment
of unwanted conceptions, in particular abortion
and infanticide. Yet even
when I had established the different mechanisms
used in the two countries
(6)
Burnett, Infectious, ch.8.
8
which led to their lowered fertility, there was
still the question of motivation,
which I discuss in relation to heirship.
The
difference between research and writing creates a contradiction which it
may be helpful for readers to be aware of. As I
proceeded I became more and
more aware of the symbiotic relations between all
aspects of what I was studying.
This was true of the relations between different
types of disease, for instance the
vector-borne and water-borne diseases. It was
true of the relation between
mortality and fertility, for example the ways in
which infants were fed was
important in both respects. The interrelations
between war, famine and disease
were equally strong. The connections and mutual
inter-effects of housing,
clothing and hygiene were very powerful. My
central theme became the
complex set of links between hitherto apparently
rather remotely connected
phenomena.
Yet the
book has to 'murder to dissect', to split apart in order to be read
sequentially. Only in the conclusion is it
possible to bring all the threads
together by considering the chains of cause and
consequence which led to the
unusual outcome whose effects we see around us
now. I make some conjectures
about the extent to which the developments
suggest conscious design or random
chance, in other words how far they indicate the
Darwinian process of 'blind
variation and selective retention'. Thus,
starting with Malthus we end with
Darwin.