Cultural Anthropology is arguably the mightiest fortress of postmodernism. Or it used to be.

As part of this discipline's modus operandi, in all of the universities of the developed world, if a person really wants to pursue the field, get a doctorate, do research, write articles, etc., then she/he is expected to do field work. Get out into the world, find a people with a culture that is different from your own, and live among them. Gather personal impressions, hard data, film, and interviews until you have some material that you can really write about and then present these people to the world. 

But - and here is the discipline's prime directive - do not compare these people to other cultures, and especially do not compare them to the developed world. In fact, you should do all you can to protect them from integration with the so-called "civilized" world. Even the most isolated of these tribes, as far as we know, have some knowledge of us. The anthropologist's policy should be that these tribes must be allowed to make their own choices about whether they will contact the "civilized" world. Until then, we should keep the world, as much as possible, away. Every culture is morally correct in its own setting, and we can only hang onto our moral decency if we do our best to respect a tribe's right to choose. 

So goes the postmodernist creed in Anthropology.  

I found a documentary on Netflix last night that was interesting and apropos here for the position it takes on this very controversial and paradigmatic matter of contact with "lost" tribes. 

The film is called "First Contact: Lost Tribe of the Amazon". I found it fascinating because its thesis is crucial to the whole debate in Cultural Anthropology and in Postmodernism more generally. There are many articles about the film easily accessible online. Here's a link to an online screening of the full documentary. 


https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=MMhMov-1VqU


The film centers largely around a young man named "Xina", a leader of a "lost" tribe. and even more around an aging Brazilian anthropologist named "Carlos Meirelles".    

The point at the end of the documentary is quite simple. On behalf of the Brazilian government, which tried for a long time to do the politically correct thing, Meirelles has done all he could to keep the largely uncontacted tribes of the Upper Amazon from contact with the outside world - until they choose it. He tried very hard to bring these tribes and their plight to the world in order to build political capital for his larger project which was to halt development of these people's homelands by those who would log the area, mine for metals, drill for oil, and build dams. These are the ways of the "evil" whites, who in Xina's people's lore were the ones they most feared. The stories of Xina's people tell of how white men once came, talking on radios and wearing Western clothes, and killed Xina's people with Uzis. Whether these legends are true is unclear at this time, but they well could be.  

These people have suffered so much already at the hands of whites: Christian missionaries, disease, enslavement (during the days of the rubber plantations), etc. Meirelles spent years trying to exercise a bit of decency and let these people live as they choose to live, engaging with "civilization" only if and when they choose. 

But the film shows Meirelles, at the end, sadly admitting, that the process of engagement with the outside world simply can't be stopped. By the film's end, the members of Xina's tribe are wearing clothes and living in a more and more Westernized manner with each month that passes. They have become ashamed of their former nakedness and express a clear wish not to return to it. And all facets of their change can be traced to the influences of the "civilized" world in one form or another.  

For me, what I was watching was simply more confirmation of one of my most deeply held beliefs: cultural detachment is not only impossible, it is really a kind of moral suspension. And the results of that policy are inevitably tragic. While decent, educated people are following a "hands off" policy, the more unsavory elements of the West are free to exploit and murder if they can elude the authorities, and how does a "civilized" nation police a largely unpopulated rain forest the size of Ireland?  

You tell your kids about sex as soon as they are old enough to ask. You tell your friends, when you're in private, and they ask, what you really think. ("That person does not love you. You will only get your heart broken.") You tell your spouse when you really don't like an outfit. 

If you love people, you don't lie to them. Tact is good, but it is possible to be tactful and also honest. In the end, sheltering people "for their own good" is manipulative and condescending. In plain words, wrong. 

If you love people, you don't lie to them. You may turn out to be wrong. Your friend may break off the relationship with you. But at least you said what you meant and meant what you said. I think it is often wise to add something like, "This matter is is up to you. It's personal. You need to decide for yourself, take ownership of that decision, and live with the consequences, whatever they may be." But if you are asked honestly for your honest opinion, you honestly give it.

Postmodernism pretends to a moral high ground it simply does not have. No one does. Those tribes can't make an informed decision until they know the choices before them in detail. That's the bottom line, as Meirelles is sadly discovering after a lifetime of work.  

We're going to have a hard time fixing our world. Climate change. Nuclear disarmament. Racial integration. The end of sexism, racism, and homophobia. But until we tell the truth, we have no chance of fixing it at all. That's the core of my problem with postmodernism. It is a moral muddle. It permits secret agreements, policies, and agendas and even moral suspension. Who are we to take such moral high ground? It's only patriarchy in fresh cosmetics.  

On the hopeful side, however, I will leave you with a quote from Canadian philosopher, Marshall McLuhan: 

“There is absolutely no inevitability as long as there is a willingness to contemplate what is happening.”

In the shadow of the mushroom cloud, nevertheless, friends, have a lovely day.