History of anthropology

In Short

This book serves as the first historical survey of the field of anthropology, tracing its development from early anatomical studies and racial categorizations to the rise of sociology and comparative religion. By documenting the shift from anecdotal curiosity to rigorous scientific inquiry, the text captures the intellectual struggles of pioneers who sought to define what it means to be human. It remains a vital record because it preserves the foundational tensions, methodologies, and controversies that shaped the discipline, offering a clear window into how Western thought reconciled its burgeoning scientific knowledge with the diversity of human experience.

The Story

The inquiry begins with the "consciousness of kind"—the fundamental human impulse to recognize similarity and difference. Early observers, from the artists of the paleolithic caves to the writers of the ancient world, engaged in what the author terms "race discrimination." These early efforts were often crude or influenced by artistic desire rather than objective measurement, yet they established the baseline for later, more systematic study. As the centuries passed, the definition of anthropology shifted from a vague, philosophical interest in the soul to a rigorous, if sometimes obsessive, focus on the physical body.

The narrative arc reveals a central shift in the eighteenth century: the move from viewing man as a distinct creation, "a little lower than the angels," to linking him firmly to the natural world. This transition, fueled by the work of figures like Linnæus and Buffon, forced a reconsideration of human identity. Yet, this newfound scientific status brought intense friction. Anthropology became a battleground for religious and political debates, particularly concerning the unity of the human race. The monogenists, who argued for a single origin, clashed with polygenists who sought to explain human variation through multiple, separate beginnings. These disputes were not merely academic; they were often inseparable from the sociopolitical crises of the time, including the justification of slavery.

As the nineteenth century progressed, the focus moved toward empirical evidence. The "rage for skull measurements"—craniometry—demonstrated both the industry and the limitations of early anthropologists. Scholars like Retzius and later Broca attempted to categorize mankind through increasingly complex mathematical grids, only to find that human diversity defied simple, rigid schemes. Simultaneously, a monumental breakthrough in archaeology provided the "missing" history of our species. The discovery of flint implements in Brixham cave, alongside the remains of extinct animals, forced a reluctant world to accept that human history extended far beyond the reach of written documents.

The closing chapters trace the expansion of the discipline into the social and psychological realms. The author explains how thinkers like Auguste Comte and Herbert Spencer attempted to apply the laws of natural science to human society, shifting the focus from individual physiology to collective behavior. The study of folklore and comparative religion also blossomed, as scholars realized that the customs of "primitive" peoples provided essential keys to understanding the development of all human civilization. The journey concludes not with a settled answer, but with a refined set of questions. The author illustrates that while the "Cinderella" of the sciences has finally arrived at the ball, its pursuit is an ongoing, evolving dialogue that must constantly guard against its own past errors and prejudices.

How It Unfolds

The roots of discrimination The investigation opens by examining the ancient, intuitive urge to categorize human groups based on physical appearance and behavior. From cave art to the literature of the Vedas, the author shows that humanity has always sought to distinguish "self" from "other."

The shift to natural history A pivotal moment arrives when Linnæus and Buffon transition the study of man from theology to biology. This move embeds humanity within the natural order, fundamentally altering the way the species is classified and studied.

The era of measurement The text details the period of intense craniometry, where scientists attempted to quantify human differences through the precise measurement of skulls. This phase highlights the struggle to find universal types amidst the "infinite variety" of human biology.

The discovery of deep time The narrative moves to the crucial archeological breakthroughs, such as the Brixham cave findings, which definitively established the antiquity of man. This evidence irrevocably broke the hold of traditional, short-chronology history.

The turn to society and myth Finally, the focus widens to include the study of social structures, folklore, and religion. By moving beyond the physical, anthropology begins to analyze the symbolic and cultural forces that bind societies together.

The People

The history is defined by the tension between those who provided facts and those who sought "light." Linnæus emerges as a figure of rigorous, early classification, whose desire for order set the stage for all future taxonomy. In contrast, Buffon represents the effort to synthesize these observations into a coherent theory of climate and environment. Peter Camper provides a fascinating look at the intersection of art and science, as his quest to paint "accurate" features led to the development of the facial angle measurement system. Boucher de Perthes appears as the persistent advocate for the antiquity of man, whose patient collection of flint implements eventually forced the scientific establishment to discard its narrow timelines. Herbert Spencer and Auguste Comte represent the grander, more philosophical ambitions of the later period, as they attempt to map the laws governing human social evolution. Finally, Franz Boas appears as a voice of modern caution, reminding the reader that while human groups may differ, there is no scientific basis for asserting inherent racial inferiority, a point that grounds the book in a burgeoning sense of twentieth-century ethical responsibility.

In Its Own Voice

“The gregarious impulse of any animal receives satisfaction only through the presence of animals similar to itself, and the closer the similarity the greater is the satisfaction.”

This passage summarizes the author’s opening argument regarding the deep-seated psychological origins of human race discrimination.

“We possess what cannot be falsified by the scribe, and, although styled prehistoric, they are far more truthfully historical than the writing that no doubt was largely interfered with.”

This quote from Sir W. R. Wilde captures the shift in authority from traditional written history to the tangible, indisputable evidence of archaeology.

What It's Really About

The central argument concerns the transition of anthropology from a speculative, often biased pursuit into a disciplined science. The book explores the tension between "nature" and "nurture"—how much of human character and physical form is innate versus shaped by the environment. Beneath the chronological narrative lies the question of how human beings can objectively study themselves without being blinded by their own cultural, religious, or racial prejudices. It is a study of the evolution of thought, showing that as the tools of the scientist became more refined, the definition of the human species became simultaneously more complex and more inclusive. The text emphasizes that history is not a linear progression of facts, but a series of controversies that push our understanding forward.

Why Read It Today

Readers interested in the history of science will find this book an engaging, if dense, intellectual map. It is not a casual read; it is a serious, scholarly account written for an audience that respects the weight of its subject. You will feel the author’s genuine, mid-Edwardian effort to catalog a field that was still finding its feet, often acknowledging the limitations of the "living" researchers mentioned.

The book is particularly rewarding for its candor regarding the "difficulties" of the discipline—the reliance on now-outdated craniometry, the influence of colonial attitudes, and the occasional "preposterous" claims that permeated the early literature. Because the author writes from a 1910 perspective, the reader is granted a unique vantage point to observe how the discipline struggled to shed its Victorian baggage. You will be left with a deep appreciation for the fragility of scientific consensus and the way that our current understanding of humanity is built upon layers of both brilliant insight and profound mistake. It is an honest, warm, and precise look at the labor involved in learning who we are.