Sex, Revenge, and the Social Fabric

The imperious drive of sex is capable of impelling individuals, reckless of consequences while under its spell, toward behavior which may imperil or disrupt the cooperative relationships upon which social life depends. The countless interpersonal bonds out of which human association is forged, complex and often delicately balanced, can ill suffer the strain of the frustrations and aggressions inevitably generated by indiscriminate competition over sexual favors. Society, therefore, cannot remain indifferent to sex but must seek to bring it under control – George Murdock, Social Structure, 1949

nam fuit ante Helenam cunnus taeterrima bellī causa – Horace, Satires, 35 BC

Social living necessarily entails certain conflicts of interest. All societies require norms and institutions to sustain general peace and cooperation among its population, as within even the most cohesive groups individuals’ needs and preferences will frequently diverge. Often, such conflicts will occur in domains that are quite comprehensible; over resources, status and personal relationships, or reproductive matters. By necessity, every surviving society developed cultural traditions (with variable success) to regulate behaviors of significant social consequence—like theft or violence—and few behaviors are more consequential than the act of sex.

Some of the ways that sex is regulated appear to be universal, or nearly universal, across cultures. All societies have particular taboos regarding incest, for example. I know of no traditional small-scale societies where sexual relationships or marriage between a parent and a child, or between siblings, is considered socially acceptable (though there are some examples from large-scale historical societies, such as in ancient Egypt). Psychologist Norbert Bischof notes that “Exceptions to this rule are extremely rare, when they do occur it is mostly a) in the form of privilege of small groups (e.g. royal families), or b) in conjunction with certain rituals.” There is some reason to think this near universality of the incest taboo may at least partially stems from certain biological foundations, as inbreeding avoidance is well documented across a wide variety of animal species.

On the other hand, the incest taboo is often simply one part of a larger system for classifying kin and mediating social relationships. Long-standing social traditions tell you whose name, and perhaps property, you inherit, who your close and distant relatives are, who you are allowed to—or forbidden from—marrying or mating with, and what will happen to your own name and property when you die. Such social proscriptions are not always followed, of course, but these kind of traditions represent guidelines for navigating complex social dilemmas, even if they are not always optimal ones. When we look at the most common social norms and traditions across cultures, we might expect that the most widespread practices tell us not only something about the biological foundations of human behavior, but also the common ways social systems have evolved to regulate conflict.

In all societies, people form pair bonds, and in most societies the pair bond, often formally recognized through marriage, comes with the presumption of significant or complete sexual exclusivity. In his work Social Structure (1949), anthropologist George Murdock remarks that, “Taboos on adultery are extremely widespread,” noting that they appear in 120 of the 148 societies in his sample, and that even among most of the 28 exceptions it is only conditionally permitted by special circumstances, such as ‘wife lending’ between male allies. Adultery is also widely viewed with moral disapproval across modern nation states. A 2014 Pew Research survey found that a median of 78% of people across 40 nations considered a married person having an affair to be morally unacceptable, and only 7% of people considered it morally acceptable. This raises the question of why adultery should be such a widely condemned behavior across a diverse array of societies.

To some degree, this probably reflects underlying human instincts towards pair bonding and mate guarding: in other words, people are opposed to cheating because they don’t want to be cheated on. At the same time, this doesn’t necessarily explain why people would care about other people cheating on each other. For this, we might want to consider the effects that adultery—and unrestrained competition for mates in general—can have on a social group.

In Despotism and Differential Reproduction (1983) anthropologist Laura Betzig cites a significant amount of ethnographic evidence demonstrating the link between violent conflict and sex—particularly in men’s attempt to obtain and control it;

Notoriously, the major precipitating cause of club fights among the Yanomamo is: conflict over women (e.g., Chagnon, 1983:119). Disputes over women “stand apart” among modern Turks, invariably calling for violence (Stirling, 1965:270); elopements may lead to physical fighting among the Mohla in the Western Punjab (Eglar, 1960:18); adultery is regarded as the most serious crime among the Semang (Schebesta, 1928:22-80); and over 90% of Tiwi disputes were matters in which women were somehow involved (Hart and Pilling, 1960:90). Among Kapauku, Pospisil noted that most Wars start because of violations of a husband’s exclusive sexual rights (1958:167); Linton found Marquesan killings followed two motives: sexual jealousy and revenge (1939:21-76). Among the Saramacca of the upper Suriname River basin, quarrels over women were more frequent than any other kinds of disputes (Kahn, 1931:97); and among Trumai, “the chief source of conflict in the village was sex” (Murphy and Quain, 1955:58).

Independent of direct fights over access to women or adultery, males may also behave violently—either opportunistically, or in more formal, socially appropriate contexts—to signal their courage, status, ability to protect, or other desirable qualities in order to attract coalition partners and marriageable women. Anthropologist DA Turton noted that among the Mursi pastoralists of Ethiopia that, “There is no doubt that dueling is associated, first and foremost, with unmarried men... [they] are highly motivated to take part in ceremonial dueling because it is the principal culturally valued means by which a young man seeks to attract the attention of unmarried girls.” Dueling systems like these may be one way of regulating in-group male-male competition in a less socially costly fashion than if it were expressed in less restrained ways. Conversely, it may promote and help maintain more aggressive behaviors that a society might otherwise want to keep in check.

A Mursi dueling bout in progress. From ‘The Social Organisation of the Mursi: a pastoral tribe of the Lower Omo Valley, South West Ethiopia’ by D.A. Turton

Sometimes women may implicitly or explicitly encourage such violent behavior on the part of the men, particularly when it is directed against outsiders. Ethnologist Charles Hose writes that, “The Iban women urge on the men to the taking of heads; they make much of those who bring them home, and sometimes a girl will taunt her suitor by saying that he has not been brave enough to take a head; and in some cases of murder by Sea Dayaks, the murderer has no doubt been egged on in this way.” Similarly, anthropologist Bruce Knauft notes that among the Asmat of New Guinea, “women disparaged and were loath to marry men who had not proven themselves by taking heads in warfare.” In The Cattle Brings Us To Our Enemies (2010), anthropologist J. Terence McCabe writes that, “Young women will sing songs about young men who are successful raiders, and such individuals often receive the benefits of their adulation.”

The pursuit of sex can be a motivator to engage in violence, and successful application of force to obtain social or political power may provide extensive reproductive benefits. In their paper ‘The evolutionary foundations of revolution’, sociologist Joseph Lopreato and F.P.A. Green write that, “ruling powers, including successful revolutionaries and their entourage, typically have sexual access to a disproportionate number of mates and therefore contribute an extraordinary number of offspring, legitimate or otherwise, to the population pool.” The reproductive benefits that can be conferred to males through conquest and the acquisition of power are also reflected in genetic data. In his book Who We Are and How We Got Here (2016), geneticist David Reich notes a common trend of sex-biased admixture across many human populations, writing that, “This pattern of sex-asymmetric population mixture is disturbingly familiar... the common thread is that males from populations with more power tend to pair with females from populations with less.”

Of course, while fitness considerations are key to understanding why sex should be such a prime source of conflict—as I discussed here, here, here, and here—there is also a social process at work that requires explanation: namely why sexual violations should be so commonly met with an act of revenge.

Anthropologists have long known that reciprocity is an important mechanism governing cooperation in many traditional societies. In his classic work The Gift (1925), Marcell Mauss writes that,

In the economic and legal systems that have preceded our own, one hardly ever finds a simple exchange of goods, wealth, and products in transactions concluded by individuals. First, it is not individuals but collectivities that impose obligations of exchange and contract upon each other. The contracting parties are legal entities: clans, tribes, and families who confront and oppose one another either in groups who meet face to face in one spot, or through their chiefs, or in both these ways at once. Moreover, what they exchange is not solely property and wealth, movable and immovable goods, and things economically useful. In particular, such exchanges are acts of politeness: banquets, rituals, military services, women, children, dances, festivals, and fairs, in which economic transaction is only one element, and in which the passing on of wealth is only one feature of a much more general and enduring contract. Finally, these total services and counter-services are committed to in a somewhat voluntary form by presents and gifts, although in the final analysis they are strictly compulsory, on pain of private or public warfare

Of course, there is a corollary to this, which is that the logic of reciprocity will also, on occasion, demand retribution. Thus, “To refuse to give, to fail to invite, just as to refuse to accept, is tantamount to declaring war; it is to reject the bond of alliance and commonality.” Anthropologist Ernst Halbmayer notes that among the Yukpa horticulturalists of northwest Venezuela, the various subgroups, “generally see each other as enemies... Their relations have been characterized by negative reciprocity, war and wife-stealing.”

Revenge and fights over women and sex are the prime motives for warfare across Amazonia. Anthropologists Robert S. Walker and Drew H. Bailey write that,

In order of importance, the tallied motives for killings (including multiple responses) were revenge for previous killings or other wrong-doings like adultery or sorcery (n=63 or 70% of responses), jealousy over women (n=16 or 18% of responses), gain of captive women and children (n=6 or 7% of responses), fear or deterrence of an impending attack (n=3 or 3% of responses), and lastly the theft of material goods (n=2 or 2% of responses).

In 54% of the external raids recorded in Walker and Bailey’s sample, at least one woman was captured.

This social logic of negative reciprocity, which may perpetuate long-running feuds between groups, also often leads men to take extreme measures to protect their honor and status within their group. In his book Blood Revenge (1984), anthropologist Christopher Boehm writes that, “To fail to retaliate homicidally in many contexts used to result in severe damage to one’s honor, in that the disapproval of the tribal moral community was so intense that it became almost intolerable.” Boehm noted that most feuding between families among the Montenegrins began with an insult to honor, and that the commonly noted causes are “abduction of a maiden to marry her, seduction of maidens, adultery, runaway wives, and a breach of betrothal agreements, as well as disputes over pastures.”

Anthropologist E. Adamson Hoebel writes that, “A Comanche male who had suffered a legal wrong was under social obligation to take action against the offender. For a man not to do so was not looked upon as an act of social grace; indeed, such behavior was a social disgrace.” As if to drive home what one of the most consequential wrongs a man could suffer was, Hoebel adds that, “Adultery and taking another's wife were direct attacks upon the prestige of the wife's husband. Both acts were unmistakable challenges which could not be ignored by the man who would maintain enough face to make life livable.”

In his book on the Yanomami, anthropologist Napoleon Chagnon gives an example of the way a man unable to protect his honor by force might expect to be treated in some societies;

Although Rerebawä has displayed his ferocity in many ways, one incident in particular illustrates what his character can be like. Before he left his own village to take his new wife in Bisaasi-teri, he had an affair with the wife of an older brother. When it was discovered, his brother attacked him with a club. Rerebawä responded furiously: He grabbed an ax and drove his brother out of the village after soundly beating him with the blunt side of the single-bit ax. His brother was so intimidated by the thrashing and promise of more to come that he did not return to the village for several days. I visited this village with Kaobawä shortly after this event had taken place; Rerebawä was with me as my guide. He made it a point to introduce me to this man. He approached his hammock, grabbed him by the wrist, and dragged him out on the ground: “This is the brother whose wife I screwed when he wasn’t around!” A deadly insult, one that would usually provoke a bloody club fight among a more valiant Yanomamö. The man did nothing. He slunk sheepishly back into his hammock, shamed, but relieved to have Rerebawä release his grip (Chagnon 31).

Of course, we can also think of the ways the logic of negative reciprocity may successfully prevent some conflicts. If you know with a great deal of certainty that any social violation on your part will be met with extreme retribution, you may be less likely to act out in the first place.

Absent social norms and institutions that enable effective conflict prevention and resolution, a never-ending game of tit-for-tat becomes an increasingly likely outcome.

The Politics of Chimpanzee Societies

Book Review: The New Chimpanzee by Craig Stanford. Harvard University Press. 2018.

In his 1982 book Chimpanzee Politics, primatologist Frans de Waal made the then-provocative argument that much of human’s political behavior stems from the evolutionary heritage we share with chimpanzees. Describing the similarities humans have in common with chimps in domains such as coalition building, status competition, and sex differences, de Waal concluded that, “What my work [studying chimpanzees] has taught me…is that the roots of politics are older than humanity.”

In The New Chimpanzee (2018), anthropologist Craig Stanford offers a worthy successor to de Waal’s classic, integrating the latest research to expound not just on the many similarities we share with our relatives of the forest, but their own unique traits and behaviors as well. While Stanford does an admirable job of conveying just how fascinating and distinct chimpanzees are in their own right, it is nonetheless striking how humanlike many of their behaviors seem to be.

Following de Waal, Stanford gives particular attention to chimpanzee status competition and ‘political’ behavior. Stanford notes that male chimpanzees that are higher ranked in dominance hierarchies have better reproductive success (more children) and live longer than lower ranked males, and he connects this to research in humans showing that higher status males also tend to be healthier and have greater reproductive success. Stanford suggests that “there might be an ancient origin for the relationship between human life expectancy and social status.” This may be due to direct effects, such as access to better nutrition, or “it could also be due to indirect effects: being high ranking may carry psychological perks that promote long, healthy lives,” Stanford writes.

Some of the similarities Stanford describes when it comes to political behavior end up being quite humorous. Stanford tells the story of the alpha chimpanzee, Ntologi, who lived at Mahale National Park in Tanzania. Stanford writes that Ntologi, “shared meat liberally as he rose in rank.” However, once he achieved alpha status, Ntologi’s “generosity dropped, and he began sharing meat mainly with those whose political support he still needed most.” This behavior so closely mirrors that of many of our own politicians it feels almost cliché. Political leaders supplying resources or favors to allies to maintain their support is well documented in social science research. In their 2003 book The Logic of Political Survival, political scientist Bruce Bueno de Mesquita and his colleagues write that “The survival of leaders and of the institutions or regimes they lead is threatened when they are no longer able to provide sufficient resources to sustain political support.”

As with humans, no single chimpanzee can maintain power on their own. Stanford writes that, “In my own field studies, there was always a single alpha male, but his power at a given moment was highly dependent on those around him.” For humans, the authors of The Logic of Political Survival write, “Make no mistake about it, no leader rules alone. Even the most oppressive dictators cannot survive the loss of support among their core constituents.” It’s difficult not to be impressed with how strategic, and even rational, chimpanzee political behavior and status competition is.

Similarly, we see strategic elements in chimpanzee hunting behavior. Chimpanzee males at many sites engage in cooperative hunts, seeking out prey such as red colobus monkeys. At the site of Ngogo at Kibale National Park in Uganda, Stanford writes that, “Male bonding and male efforts to rise in rank by currying favor with the right higher-up were major motivating forces in obtaining meat in the first place.” More than simply seeking out subsistence, hunting for male chimpanzees is often part of building alliances and jockeying for political power.

There is a risk when studying chimpanzees in ascribing uniquely human characteristics and behaviors onto them. Yet learning about chimpanzees can lead us to greater insight in understanding our own behaviors and evolutionary history. Sensitive to these issues, de Waal writes that, it would not “be correct to accuse me of having, either consciously or unconsciously, projected human patterns onto chimpanzee behavior. The reverse is nearer the truth; my knowledge edge and experience of chimpanzee behavior have led me to look at humans in another light.” While Stanford gives appropriate emphasis to our similarities with chimps, he also gives due attention to how intriguing chimpanzees are in their own right, writing that he hopes “readers will appreciate chimpanzees for what they are— not underevolved humans or caricatures of ourselves, but perhaps the most interesting of all the species of nonhuman animals with which we share our planet.”

Stanford concludes by noting that chimpanzees act “as ambassadors between our own evolutionary history as apes and our present selves, the technologically advanced humans of this century who grow more divorced from our heritage with each passing generation.” Chimpanzees are an impressive species: fundamentally unique, while also offering us an avenue to better understand ourselves and our own history. For those interested in learning about chimpanzees and their relationship to humans, Stanford’s work is bound to satisfy.

Editor’s note: This article was first published in French at Phébé par Le Point.

Initiation Prelude [Fiction]

In the late 19th century, an explorer working with the Dutch colonial administration in Papua New Guinea heard a portion of a men’s initiation ceremony while he was temporarily staying with the people of a small, unnamed community. Apparently being familiar with the region and the local language, he translated and transcribed the words allegedly spoken at this event. His notes were found as loose pages in some unspecified archive by an anthropology professor of mine, who provided me with a translated, annotated copy. The explorer did not seem to have had a view of the inside of the spirit house where this initiation occurred, but he could hear them from the temporary hut situated nearby that this group had gifted him.

In some cases, terms were used that the explorer did not provide a direct translation for, which my professor seems to have substituted with his own translations in brackets. In the interest of better reconstructing the event, my professor also indicated where the explorer’s notes described additional details about the initiation, such as prolonged periods of silence, or where unheard comments were made. Unfortunately, due to the explorer’s use of short-hand, not all of his writing was legible.

Due to the paucity of details about the society, where they lived, or the specific expedition the Dutch explorer was part of, my professor stressed to me that he cannot vouch for the veracity of this account, and I want to convey the same caveat to you.

…

[Illegible]…of course it would be you. You, young seeker of power – you have the ambition to be a [spirit leader] but have you developed the requisite skills? What do you offer us?

[There was a prolonged period of silence here.]

You: still so young, we have noticed your accomplishments in [the hunt], but have you crafted your first dagger from the bones of the cassowary? Have you produced great works of art for the interior of the [spirit house]? You have no pigs yet, young man—how can you host a feast when your garden is as empty as our bellies? Too inexperienced to stand guard at the local watchtower; hands too shaky to sew the sacred armbands; too ignorant to decipher the entrails of swine—you leave the [omens] undeciphered! [He was shouting.] What do you offer us?

[Another period of silence.]

You must visit the sorcerers to the west for training in magic. They are [“monstrous cannibals”] but it is they who hold the [powerful shells] that grant our success in battle. You will take to them these bundles of bananas and taro and they will give you what is required. [There was some inaudible back and forth conversation here between the elders.]

You have felt the sting of our nettles, and known the fear induced by our capricious [great spirits], but until the dirt of battle has known your blood or that of your foe you are not a man. Like the women bury their blood in the taro gardens to enrich its feminine spirit, the roots of our tribe are nourished by the blood of men on the battlefield! You must learn what is required of you, boy.

[He began speaking quietly] It is [we, the elders of men, descendants of the founding lineage] that are the guardians of our great society. You wish entry into our powerful community, and we may grant it if you demonstrate your worth.

You have not violated the [sexual taboos]. You maintained your silence in the face of the questions from the women and children, demonstrating your tact, and again you maintained your silence in the face of the torture from us men, demonstrating your resolve. When you were a child you did women’s work but now you are a man! A man needs a wife: she will tend to your garden.

If you return from your travels with the goods I require, my [sister’s youngest daughter] will be your wife. This is a gift and I ask for nothing in return, though you will recompense me when you are able.

Learn from the [sorcerers to the west] their [ritual leader] is my [2nd wife’s cousin? Maybe some other relative]. He will see my [sacred armband] on your arm and the magic of him and his people will not be able to harm you. Here. Take it.

[The explorer indicates here that he began to hear the sounds of flutes playing, as well as a series of loud whirring sounds, which seemed to be coming from the forest. This appears to have created a great commotion among the women and children, who went into their residential homes, while the men stuck around lazily.]

You will leave tomorrow. Tonight we have work to do. There are lessons that must be learned.

To be part of our great society is to serve [the local deity]. The accomplishments of men please [the deity]. When you do not violate the taboos, when you kill our enemies, when you make the necessary sacrifices during our ceremonies, when you host feasts in [the deity’s] honor. As a man you please [the deity] with your deeds and achievements, but you must not come into conflict with us or be jealous of our achievements. You must respect the elders. [Illegible]

[The explorer mentions that the flutes and whirring stopped, but the women and children have not returned to the communal areas and remain in their homes.]

There are things… [Illegible]

[The explorer’s account was interrupted here as a few young men from the community entered his hut and started inspecting his lantern and cookware. The explorer tolerated their curiosities for a few minutes before trying to convey to them that he wanted to be alone. They nodded like they understood but kept playing with his things.]

Omens of War and the Promise of Prophecy

And to seal his prayer, farseeing Zeus sent down a sign.

He launched two eagles soaring high from a mountain ridge

...All were dumbstruck, watching the eagles trail from sight,

people brooding, deeply, what might come to pass...

Until the old warrior Halitherses,

Master's son, broke the silence for them:

the one who outperformed all men of his time

at reading bird-signs, sounding out the omens,

rose and spoke, distraught for each man there

– Homer, The Odyssey, 8th century BC.

Uncertainty is embedded in the practice of warfare. The potential rewards can be great, yet the cost of failure is incalculably grave. While war is a cooperative endeavor, often undertaken to benefit a larger social group, wars are fought by individual people with their own interests and motivations. The instinct of self-preservation, the anticipation of potentially disastrous consequences, and extreme feelings of fear may act as constraints on the engagement of aggressive conflict. To mitigate these limitations, cultures developed beliefs and practices to reduce the fear of warriors, and increase their willingness to fight on behalf of the group. Many such traditions purport to offer nothing less than protection and approval from the gods themselves.  

Societies throughout history have always played close attention to the clues offered by the divine. As archaeologist Bruce Trigger notes in his cross-cultural study of the kingdoms of ancient Egypt, Mesopotamia, Shang China, the Aztecs, Maya, Inca, and the Yoruba: “Ascertaining the will of the gods through reading omens and practicing divination was highly elaborated in all the early civilizations.” The ubiquity of these beliefs and practices, and their association with powerful and long-lasting regimes, hints towards a functional component, particularly in the domain of warfare.

Rituals play an important role in warfare across numerous societies, as anthropologist Luke Glowacki notes in a recent commentary on the cultural evolution of war rituals. Glowacki writes that,

Although cultural systems contribute to incentivizing participation [in warfare] (Glowacki & Wrangham 2013; Zefferman & Mathew 2015), humans also adopt superstitious beliefs and behaviors to overcome anxiety and fear and increase self-confidence. Warriors in numerous societies carry amulets or use drugs and alcohol to mitigate fear (Goldschmidt 1994). With astonishing frequency, many of these interventions purport to make enemies unable to see or harm the warrior.

Importantly, such beliefs and practices can reduce the perceived cost of engaging in warfare. If you believe you cannot be harmed by conventional means you may be less hesitant about participating in a raid on a rival group.

Related to the practice of rituals that reduce fear, omens and prophecy can fulfill a similar function. The uncertainty of conflict is reduced substantially if one can foretell the outcome. Across many societies, dreams, the movement of animals, the position of stars, and the proclamations of prophets were believed to offer tantalizing hints of a momentous future.

Anthropologist George Murdock, who helped compile many of the large cross-cultural databases still in use today, such as the Ethnographic Atlas and the Standard Cross-Cultural Sample, provides multiple examples across societies where omens and visions had an important role in the practice of warfare. Murdock writes that in native Samoa, before battle:

A feast is held, and the village gods are consulted by divination. If the auspices seem favorable, the war party starts out; it returns immediately, however, if any bad omen, like the squeaking of rats, is observed... By observing the behavior of the animal incarnations of the war gods, the success or failure of a military expedition can be predicted. If, for example, an owl, heron, kingfisher, or other fetish bird of a war god flies ahead of an advancing party, it is an omen of victory; if, however, it flies across the path or toward the rear, it is a bad omen, and the party immediately retreats (Murdock 81).

Often, the insight of specialized professionals is required to interpret or act on an omen. Among the Crow American Indians, Murdock writes that, “Any man may organize a war party. But he must first have a vision, or else purchase medicine and receive the details of a vision from a war shaman”. Murdock also notes that among the Haida hunter-fisher-gatherers of British Colombia, a shaman would always accompany war expeditions to read omens.

A ritual or divinatory specialist who plays a prominent role in preparing for battle is found in many societies. Anthropologists Mathies Osterle and Michael Bollig write of the importance of prophets in war planning among Pokot pastoralists of Kenya, “Before the men congregate in a huge final ritual (kokwö luk)…[they] consult a prophet (werkoyon), a ritual specialist who forecasts future events on the basis of his dreams. Only if his visions for the attack are promising will the raid go ahead.”

Among the Mursi pastoralists of Ethiopia, men with divinatory skills examine the intestines of a stock animal to predict the location and severity of future battles. Like the Samoan societies mentioned above, the flight patterns of specific birds are believed to convey information about upcoming battles. Anthropologist David Turton writes;

It is a common occurrence during the dry season for warnings to be sent to the cattle camps from the Omo by older men who “know about birds”, warnings which certainly have the effect of increasing the vigilance of the herders, and, in particular, of persuading them to engage in the irksome and generally unpopular task of scouting in the Mago Valley.

The intestines of a stock animal are examined during Mursi divination. From ‘War, Peace and Mursi Identity’ (1979) by David Turton.

The way the bird omens are responded to by Mursi men, with their increased vigilance and scouting patrols, indicates how such beliefs may promote collective action in socially important domains, such as defense in war. Absent the increased threat hinted at by the omen, men may be more inclined to shirk on scouting duty.

When it comes to the professional prophets and seers, we might expect them to be particularly perceptive individuals—or, perhaps in some cases, persuasive charlatans—with a keen ability to anticipate future events. While repeated false predictions risk a loss of credibility or faith in the omens themselves, the literal accuracy of individual predictions is less important than their ability to induce confidence in potential recruits, increasing participation and a willingness of—perhaps unwitting—self-sacrifice on the part of warriors.

In her work on the kingdom of Buganda in Uganda, anthropologist Lucy Mair describes the organizational role played by prophets and prophecy in assembling for battle. Mair writes that,

The one activity in which magic exercised a positive organizing force was warfare…[I]n the conduct of the war itself the prophet played a more influential part than the general. But it was not only over the course of the actual fighting that they predominated. The time and place of the war, the selection of the general, and probably also the districts whose inhabitants were to stay at home “to guard the king”, were decided by them in answer to inquiries.

The proclamations of prophets can also have significant propaganda value to affirm existing rulership and promise future success in conquest. Apolo Kagwa, former prime minister of the kingdom of Buganda, describes the grandiose assurances given to the new king by his obsequious priests,

Finally the king asked Kinyoro to ask all the gods to prophecy for him. The priests were brought and stood before the king. They said. “You will live longer than all the other kings. You will be the father and all your subjects will love you dearly. Love the gods. They will defend your cause. Love your kingdom and be just. You will be more prosperous than the other kings and whenever you wage war you will win.” This was the introduction of the prophets to the king. They were all given gifts and then the king left for Nakere’s for the final ceremonies.

A similar history can be found in classical Greece. Plutarch describes Alexander the Great hectoring the Oracle at Delphi until she proclaims him invincible. Afterwards, Plutarch writes that, “Alexander taking hold of what she spoke, declared he had received such an answer as he wished for, and that it was needless to consult the god any further.”

While omens and prophecies do seem to provide some social functions, they also likely come with a cost. The use of divination in making important policy or military decisions can—at least in some cases—compound uncertainty, lead to contradictory decision making, and promote an undue focus on details unrelated to making informed choices on the battlefield.

For example, classicist William Kendrick Pritchett notes in The Greek State at War (1974) that Spartan military decisions were not infrequently influenced by the capricious and contradictory whims of the gods. Pritchett writes that,

it is not difficult to find examples where an unsatisfactory omen held back [an expedition]... The project of erecting a fort on the Argive frontier in 388 B.C. was abandoned in consequence of unfavorable [sacrificial omens]. Moreover, there are three examples in Thucydides (5.54.2, 5.55.3, and 5.116) where the Spartans abandoned proposed military expeditions because the sacrifices were not right (Pritchett 113).

While this devotion to omens might seem unproductive, the fifth century BC Greek philosopher Xenophon offers a strong case for why omens should be taken seriously enough to inform decisions in times of war:

If anyone is surprised that I have so often prescribed that one should act 'with the gods', it is certain that he will be less surprised if he often comes into danger, and if he realizes that in a war enemies plot against one another but seldom know whether these plots are well-laid. It is impossible to find any other advisers in such matters except the gods. They know everything, and give signs to those they wish to through sacrifices, birds of omen, voices and dreams.

The explanation given by Xenophon points to the role of omens in dealing with uncertainty. The decision-making process in the ‘fog of war’ can be so chaotic that giving credence to the ambiguous whispers of the gods may not always harm—and in some circumstances perhaps improve—the outcome of conflict.

At the same time, the practice of interpreting omens can come with significant flexibility. Spartan kings seem to have had considerable latitude in the decision-making process, and may have sometimes used omens as a way of selectively confirming decisions that were already made. As historian Robert Parker writes in his work on Spartan religion,

Above all, if the omens from a first sacrifice were discouraging, it was the king's decision whether to perform it again in hope of something better or to abandon the enterprise. Unless there were unusually strict restrictions on the repetition of crossing-sacrifices, they would always have come right in the end for a sufficiently determined leader. Divination, therefore, left room for manoeuvre even to the pious. What mattered above all was the king's strength of will and confidence in his cause… If, therefore, a plan or expedition was abandoned because of the lesser obstacle of discouraging sacrifices, the king must either have been unusually timorous, or have felt genuine doubt whether the proposed action was wise (Parker 203).

In a recent paper illustrating how introducing some (but not too much) randomness in a network of people can actually improve coordination, sociologists Hirokazu Shirado and Nicholas Christakis describe some of the beneficial aspects of having some noise within complex systems;

Prior theoretical work has suggested a surprising, even paradoxical, solution to the coordination problem: adding “noise.”13–15 Noise is usually defined as meaningless information, and it is often seen as problematic16. When it comes to optimization, however, noise can help a system to reach a global optimum. For example, mutation has an essential role in evolution17; error can facilitate search for information18; random fish schooling may enhance survival19; and cooperation may benefit from deviant behavior7

Similarly, economist Peter Leeson’s paper on oracles demonstrates how randomizing strategies that manage to coordinate individuals’ choices (through their acceptance of the oracles decision) can help solve ‘low grade’ interpersonal conflict. Analogously, perhaps the divine assurances of omens and prophecies help coordinate activity in war, where otherwise participants may have been more hesitant to join, or scattered in the midst battle.

In addition to acting as focal points for coordination, omens and prophecies can reduce the perceived risk of engaging in conflict, embolden participants in warfare, and confer increased legitimacy to existing rulers. While the amount of noise induced by giving undue credence to omens may lead to suboptimal decision making, in some circumstances—perhaps when access to information is quite poor, as in the ‘fog of war’—the randomness effect might in fact prove beneficial.