Albert Somit and Steven Peterson, Darwinism, Dominance and Democracy: The Biological Bases of Authoritarianism, Westport CT: Praeger (1997)
©Politics and Life Sciences, 19: 103-108 (2002)
In the famous (some would say infamous) final chapter of his discipline-defining volume, Sociobiology: The New Synthesis (1975), biologist Edward O. Wilson invited us to consider humankind as if we were zoologists from another planet. In this light, Wilson said, “the humanities and social sciences shrink to specialized branches of biology” (p. 547). One of the functions of the new discipline of sociobiology, Wilson suggested, was “to reformulate the foundations of the social sciences…” (p. 4). Wilson cautioned, however, that it “remains to be seen” whether or not the social sciences can be “truly biologized” in this fashion.
Almost a quarter of a century later, it still remains to be seen. In his latest book, Consilience (1998), Wilson keeps the faith. But he concedes that we still know relatively little for certain about the biological foundations of “human nature.” Of course, there are some important exceptions. We do know that many mental and physical diseases (over 1200 to date) have genetic bases, and many of these are tied to the effects of a single gene. We also know that individual differences in cognitive abilities and personality traits are significantly influenced by genetic differences (although we still do not know precisely how). We know that there are many behavioral “universals” in the human species that strongly suggest a biological basis, from facial expressions to parent-infant bonding and language acquisition. And yet, we are still in the dark about the precise genetic bases of “normal” human behaviors. Wilson notes that the science of human behavior genetics is “still in its infancy.” In time, “a clearer picture of human nature will emerge” (p. 147).
One implication is that we should be extremely cautious about biologizing human behaviors, especially when it involves something as complex and overlain with cultural influences as democracy. So it is disconcerting, to say the least, to see two of the leaders in the so-called “biopolitics” movement, political scientists Albert Somit and Steven A. Peterson, boldly go where Wilson fears to tread. In their recent book, Darwinism, Dominance and Democracy: The Biological Bases of Authoritarianism (1997), Somit and Peterson provide us with an important cautionary tale. Their book is significant both for what it says and for what it fails to say about the nature and nurture of democracy.
Somit and Peterson’s “predictably unpopular thesis” — as they disarmingly put it — is that “the most important reason for the rarity of democracy is that evolution has endowed our species, as it has other primates, with a predisposition for hierarchically structured social and political systems.” Humankind, they assert, has “a genetic bias toward hierarchy, dominance, and submission.” In other words, authoritarianism is in our genes.
However, Somit and Peterson assure us that we need not view this as “a counsel of despair” or a prophesy of ultimate doom for the democracies. Our hope for the future, they claim, lies in the fact that humankind is also unique among the primates, or any other species for that matter, in being able to adopt beliefs and practices that run “counter” to our genetic self-interests — from celibacy to monogamy to, yes, even democracy. The key to this countervailing influence is another biologically-based propensity in humankind — our “indoctrinability.” (Somit and Peterson acknowledge that this term is “lamentably awkward.” To me, it is also lamentably constricted and insufficient; I’ll come back to this point.)
Accordingly, Somit and Peterson see themselves as engaging in an act of political “consciousness raising,” to borrow a phrase from their implicit nemesis, Karl Marx. Once we acknowledge our innate authoritarian tendencies, then we can take appropriate steps to resist them. In actuality, this is a line of reasoning among conservative Darwinians that dates back at least to “Darwin’s Bulldog,” Thomas Henry Huxley, in the 19th century, and it is echoed in the writings of various contemporary biologists, including George Williams, Richard Dawkins, and Richard Alexander. In his legendary Romanes Lecture of 1893 (reprinted in Nitecki and Nitecki 1993), Huxley claimed that nature is indeed “red, in tooth and claw,” as poet Alfred Lord Tennyson so nicely put it, but that humankind can transcend “the cosmic process” and substitute the “state of art” for the “state of nature.” Huxley’s Deus ex machina (to borrow a phrase from an altogether different realm) has always begged the question, then and now: why bother? If hierarchy accords with nature and, after all, best serves the genetic interests of our species, why not just go with the evolutionary flow? Why fight the cosmic process?
Somit and Peterson express a personal preference for democracy, though they don’t spell out exactly why. Indeed, they’re even somewhat cynical and disparaging about what the term democracy means, since it has been used, and misused, in so many different ways. Yet they also take pains in their penultimate chapter to propose various policies and actions that might bolster the prospects for democracy. Unfortunately, their prescriptions are not very compelling since they cannot also tell us why it is important to foster democracy. Why should we resist the nepotistic depredations of the Suharto family, or the heavily-armed dominance behavior of the drug lords, or the “ethnic cleansing” in Bosnia and Kosovo for that matter? Where is the ethical anchor for the ship of state? (This is another point that we will return to below.)
Nevertheless, it would be dangerous — a wanton act of “denial” — to reject Somit and Peterson’s thesis just because we don’t like it, or because we find their defense of democracy inadequate. In opposition to those who would like to believe that democracy is the more “natural” state of affairs and that authoritarianism is a culturally-evolved aberration, Somit and Peterson marshall an array of contrary evidence. It includes: (1) the research literature on social behavior in other species, especially our primate relatives, in which dominance hierarchies are ubiquitous; (2) the large body of supportive research in social psychology, including Stanley Milgrim’s famous and much-replicated experiments on obedience to authority; (3) the history of the past 6,000 years or more, which has been heavily weighted in favor of authoritarian regimes; (4) the writings of the great philosophers, who have seldom come out in favor of full-fledged democracy and have frequently denigrated it; (5) the fragility of most democratic experiments in recent decades (it seems that an array of favorable cultural and economic circumstances may be ineluctable prerequisites); (5) the relative infrequency even today of “true” democracies (yes, there is a difference it seems), despite the fact that democracy is currently the reigning ideology in global politics and is paid lip service even by tyrants.
So what’s wrong with Somit and Peterson’s argument? If their thesis about human nature and hierarchies may have some merit, then what’s missing from this picture?
In a nutshell, what is missing are (1) some other, countervailing elements of human nature, and (2) a more adequate conception of the role of “nurture” in political life. Somit and Peterson acknowledge the importance of an “interaction” between nature and nurture; it’s the party-line among sociobiologists these days. But they reduce nurture to the truncated concept of “indoctrinability” — which implies, perhaps unwittingly, a biological susceptibility to external manipulation by political operatives (or perhaps political science professors). In reality, “nurture” is a large and complicated domain that has many dimensions and plays a far more potent role in shaping human societies than Somit and Peterson suggest. Moreover, nurture is also a part of human nature — a part of our evolved biological heritage — although its precise content is obviously highly variable.
To begin at the beginning, our hominid ancestors diverged from the rest of the primate line more than five million years ago, and we have undergone a radical psychological make-over since then. Our primate instincts are overlain with a large, calculating (“Machiavellian”) neo-cortex, as well as a greatly intensified degree of sociality — propensities for social cooperation, sensitivity to social “approbation” (in Darwin’s term) and even ethical sensibilities — that are also biologically-grounded. As a rule, humans are neither exclusively competitive and hierarchical nor egalitarian and cooperative but an inextricable admixture of both. Moreover, the precise mix depends upon the context, including the influence of biologically-based personality differences — which makes any gross generalizations about human nature extremely slippery.
Thus, our behaviors are also greatly affected by “peer pressures,” “social pressures” and the expectations of others (including the norms of groups and organizations), not to mention personal calculations of potential costs and benefits. We may kowtow to the boss, or the President, not because we are following our irresistible primate instinct for submission but because the person in authority will fire us — or kill us — if we don’t. Furthermore, the boss, or President, may be inspired to assert dominance behaviors not by virtue of his/her innate biological superiority but because he/she is empowered by a socially-recognized set of behavioral expectations that are backed by social, economic, even physical sanctions (or at least by well-armed henchmen).
Conversely, we may follow a “leader” not because of an innate urge to be subservient but because it is in our self-interest to do so; we may recognize that somebody else can be more effective than we are in mobilizing and leading our group/organization/polity. (Why, after all, does anyone work for somebody else’s election?) Or maybe we’re just too busy; we’re glad to let somebody else take on the burden of running the PTA or serving on the City Council. In fact, the “economics” of political dominance and submission — the potential costs and benefits to all concerned — are of crucial importance in making sense out of political hierarchies in modern societies. This often implicit calculus is, after all, the basis for such important terminological distinctions as “consent”, “coercion”, “legitimacy”, “subjugation”, “despotism” and “tyranny” — distinctions that are the very meat and potatoes of political science.
In addition, a case can be made for the assertion that democracy (properly defined) is also consistent with human nature and Darwinian principles; hierarchy and democracy are not incompatible opposites. Here the argument gets more subtle and complicated, so I ask for the reader’s patience.
We need first to address an important preliminary issue. What is democracy and why bother to defend it? Why should we care? Broadly speaking, there are two polar views on the subject. The more “liberal” view is based on the notion of individual “equality” and civil rights. In ancient Greece, where the term democracy was coined, it meant direct participation in government and a share in the decisions and actions of the community, or the “polis”. (Of course, in Aristotle’s day, political equality did not extend to women, or slaves, or to landless peasants. Universal suffrage came much, much later.)
The “conservative” view of democracy, on the other hand, is based on the assumption that people are not “equal”, either in terms of their talents and abilities or their station in life. Societies will always have “elites” and hierarchical relationships, and government will always be disproportionately influenced by the interests of the powerful few. Accordingly, for many theorists, democracy should be defined more narrowly in terms of participation by those who are qualified to do so. Indeed, the illiterate masses have often been distrusted by elitist democrats. Moreover, as societies have grown in size and complexity beyond the small, intimate city-states of ancient Greece, which numbered only a few thousands or tens of thousands, the notions of “indirect democracy” and “representative democracy” have evolved apace; government has become an increasingly elaborate component of ever larger and more complex division of labor in modern societies.
Despite the differences between them, the common denominator in both liberal and conservative theories of democracy is the idea that the citizenry, or at least the “weightier part” (as Marsillio of Padua put it), must possess the collective ability ultimately to determine the course of government, to constrain abuses by the rulers and, perhaps, to peaceably remove and replace the rulers if they fail to meet their fiduciary responsibilities.
Another way of looking at the matter is in terms of the science of cybernetics. A unique feature of a cybernetic system is that it is goal-directed; it has a “purpose”. But equally important, the behavior of a cybernetic system is directly influenced by “inputs” of various kinds and by “feedbacks” from the environment. Feedback is critical. It involves the ability to guide and ultimately to control the behavior of the system in order to keep it on course toward the realization of its goal(s). The classic example is the way a household thermostat works, but most cybernetic systems are more elaborate.
The point here is that government is quintessentially a complex cybernetic system. To oversimplify a bit, modern mass democracy can be viewed as an array of mechanisms and practices that are explicitly designed to exert or facilitate feedback controls. (To be sure, there may also be goal-changing, or system-changing feedbacks, as well as “feed forward” and a variety of other cybernetic elements, but these are not essential to our argument.) Many of the specific institutions of modern democracies, from universal suffrage and free competitive elections to the “rule of law” and civil rights are culturally-evolved “tools” that have been created to undergird the basic objective of a democratic system. These tools give the citizenry the means to control the controllers; call it the cybernetic model of democracy.
From a cybernetic perspective, therefore, the concept of a “hierarchy” is not opposed to democracy (read feedback controls). Nor is hierarchy equivalent to authoritarian rule. Hierarchical organizations — from football teams to automobile manufacturers, political parties and armies — are not simply reflections of dominance competition and, implicitly, of reproductive competition. Hierarchical organization is also a functional imperative — a cybernetic requisite for any organization with collective goals and a division (or combination) of labor. (Somit and Peterson gloss over the distinction between dominance and “leadership”, which are different from one another both functionally and psychologically.)
Somit and Peterson also discount the argument that the establishment and spread of democracy in the past few millennia reflects a trajectory of cultural learning and political evolution. They do not give much weight to the invention of “law” and legal systems, the rejection of hereditary rule and the “divine right” of kings, the subordination of rulers to the rule of law, the rise of an independent judiciary, “empowered” legislatures, secret ballots, fixed terms of office, freedom of speech, checks and balances and other political “inventions” that represent important instrumentalities of cybernetic control. But perhaps this is because their theory is monolithic; in their view, the hierarchies that are everywhere to be found in human societies are primarily a reflection of dominance competition. The contrary view suggested here is that there has been a dualistic causal dynamic at work; there may be both personal dominance relationships (and power struggles) and functional reasons for the hierarchies that are ubiquitous in complex human societies. In fact, there is often an interplay between these two great shaping influences.
By the same token, Somit and Peterson tacitly discount the role of coercive power in establishing and maintaining authoritarian rule. Forget the “whisperings within,” as the biopsychologist David Barash so elegantly put it. The masses of humankind often submit to tyranny, not because they are following their primordial primate instincts but, more important, because they are making the best of a bad lot: better to survive in poverty and subjugation than to be tortured and killed by El Grande’s thugs. However, if you give them a choice…
Indeed, it is possible to put an entirely different spin on Somit and Peterson’s historical “evidence” for an authoritarian bias in human history. Authoritarianism often succeeds because coercive power of some sort is an essential tool for maintaining internal order and (most often) for external defense, in virtually every society. It does not take a very great leap of imagination for a leader to recognize that military or police power can also be used to pursue personal, family, ethnic or factional advantages — or simply to suppress political opposition. In other words, authoritarian regimes often have both the incentives and the means for perpetuating themselves in power and exploiting it for their own purposes, and democratic institutions are often “murdered” because those who control coercive power naturally do not want to be constrained by cybernetic feedback controls, much less removed from office. So authoritarianism may also arise from the “pure” calculus of self-interest. (It should also be pointed out that the philosophers of antiquity who so often disparaged democracy were mostly writing for the literate and powerful few, not the powerless and illiterate masses; their intended audience was not likely to have been very open-minded on this subject.)
But why, after all, should democracy matter? If authoritarianism is in any case hard to resist and democracy is more fragile and precarious, why bother trying shore it up — much less trying to improve its chances of success? Here I believe we can get some help from Darwin himself, and from some supportive research literature in sociobiology, primatology, anthropology, psychology, and even the management sciences.
In The Descent of Man (1874), Darwin tentatively outlined what he believed to be “some of the probable steps” in human evolution. He argued, in essence, that three distinct evolutionary “levels” were involved: (1) reciprocity and what would now be called “reciprocal altruism” or “mutualism” between individuals (2) “family” selection (now called “kin selection” and “inclusive fitness”) and (3) “group selection.” To quote Darwin:
In the first place, as the reasoning powers and foresight of the members became improved, each man would soon learn that if he aided his fellow-men he would commonly receive aid in return. From this low motive he might acquire the habit of aiding his fellows; and the habit of performing benevolent actions certainly strengthens the feelings of sympathy which gives first impulse to benevolent actions….But another and much more powerful stimulus to the development of the social virtues is afforded by the praise and blame of our fellow-men…and this instinct no doubt was originally acquired, like all other social instincts, through natural selection. At how early a period the progenitors of man in the course of their development became capable of feeling and being impelled by the praise or blame of their fellow-creatures we cannot of course say….[However], a selfish and contentious people will not cohere, and without coherence nothing can be effected. A tribe rich in the above qualities would spread and be victorious over other tribes…Thus the social and moral qualities would tend slowly to advance and be diffused throughout the world (pp., 146, 147, 148).
The precise patterning and sequence of human evolution remains a matter of continuing debate. Nevertheless, Darwin correctly identified one crucially important factor — the role of functional interdependency. In so doing, Darwin also pinpointed the bottom-line answer to the “why bother” question. Except in some pathological cases, an organized society may be characterized as a “collective survival enterprise;” we depend upon one another in a myriad of different ways for the meeting of our various survival and reproductive needs. Moreover, the collective performance of the group may also greatly affect the chances of any individual member’s survival and reproductive success, especially in the context of competition with other groups. Indeed, we very often do things together as “teams” (or “tribes”) and have even evolved a psychological propensity to enjoy cooperation (not coincidentally). In other words, rulers and followers generally need each other. Both natural selection and various cultural “mechanisms” may work together to constrain dominance behaviors and dominance competition (both “ultimate” and “proximate” causes, in evolutionary jargon). And, as societies have become ever more complex, the cultural constraints have become increasingly powerful; a prime corollary of system complexity is a high degree of functional interdependency among the “parts”.
This is not just a “theory”. There is considerable evidence in the research literature on social animals (especially the primates and social carnivores) that such constraints and cybernetic controls do in fact exist. Significantly, these constraints are most notable among species with a high level of functional interdependence (savanna-living baboons, wild dogs, wolves and the like) — the very species whose adaptive strategies most nearly resemble the likely pattern in evolving hominids. (Among the many references on this point, see especially Kummer 1968, 1971; Wilson 1975; Lopez 1978; Strum 1987; Dunbar 1988; Harcourt and de Waal 1992; Wrangham 1995.)
Support for the notion that social constraints on dominance behavior are an important part of our evolutionary heritage can also be found in anthropology, a discipline that Somit and Peterson apparently overlooked. What Christopher Boehm (1997), director of the Jane Goodall Research Center at USC, calls the “egalitarian syndrome” is fairly common among the small hunter gatherer societies that are found in remote areas of the world — the very societies whose “life-style” most nearly resembles that of our Pleistocene ancestors. Boehm’s term refers to a pattern of social pressures that serve to dampen status rivalries, encourage cooperation, facilitate consensual decision making and police “free-riders.”
To cite one example, the !Kung San (Bushmen) hunter-gatherers of Africa’s Kalihari Desert have elaborate means for exerting social pressure on any member who gets too pushy, or arrogant, or selfish. The group will act collectively to admonish and restrain the individual, with the ultimate (painful) sanction being banishment from the group.
The work of primatologist Franz de Waal and various colleagues on “coalitions” and “alliances” in chimpanzees and other primates also reinforces this argument (Harcourt and de Waal 1992). De Waal (1996) maintains that “egalitarianism” in general and coalition behavior in particular are important counterweights to dominance behaviors, in animal and human societies alike. Submission to a dominant animal is primordial, de Waal points out. But, “we need to know what’s in it for the subordinate.” De Waal’s answer amounts to a seconding of Darwin’s motion: “The advantages of group life can be manifold…increased chances to find food, defense against predators, and strength in numbers against competitors….Each member contributes to and benefits from the group, although not necessarily equally or at the same time….Each society is more than the sum of its parts” (pp. 9, 102).
This paradigm is also consistent with a large and important body of research both in psychology and in the mental health field on what is variously called “personal autonomy,” “self-determination,” “competency,” “self-efficacy” and “personal empowerment.”1 Although there are some differences of emphasis associated with each of these terms, the common core has to do with a basic psychological need in humankind that is antithetical to the proposition that supine submission to authority is more consistent with human nature and thus requires an offsetting cultural “indoctrination.” Just ask the parents of a teenager about dominance and submissiveness among the offspring that carry their genes! Moreover, there is much evidence that the suppression of personal autonomy, self-control, efficacy or whatever may have significant functional, health and even reproductive consequences. (There is, in fact, a large research literature on the subject of “learned helplessness.”) Submission to authority, I contend, has a very large component of “nurture” associated with it — from parental sanctions to the menace of a police-state’s gestapo.
Finally, there is a large and compelling literature in the management sciences on what has been called the “new paradigm” of organizational effectiveness, much of which traces its roots to the pioneering work of management guru W. Edwards Deming on “quality management” back in the 1950s and 1960s. (Deming’s influence was particularly important in the development of the Japanese management model, which emphasizes consensus building and quality improvement “teams”). Again, there are a number of variations on this theme: “Total Quality Management” (TQM), “servant leadership,” “self-managed teams,” “flattened organization,” “decentralized decision-making,” “worker empowerment,” “team leadership,” “consensus building,” and so on.2 In practice, there may be discrepancies between what managers say they will do and what they actually do. But the overall results of this movement have been impressive. Over the past decade, American industry has made major improvements in productivity and product quality under the general heading of “process redesign.” We are now ahead of many other countries in this respect, and it could not have been achieved without “teamwork”.
In sum, modern-day authoritarian regimes bear no resemblance to the small, egalitarian and mostly kin-based groups that characterized our evolving hominid ancestors; the relationship between contemporary authoritarian governments and the “Darwinian” criterion of reproductive success is problematical to say the least. Moreover, even in industry — a traditional bastion of authoritarianism — the “hierarchical model” of organization has proved to be less effective than something that is more “democratic” and participatory. Therefore, it could be argued that modern authoritarianism involves a distortion of human nature, and that the “machinery” of modern democracy amounts to a set of evolved cultural analogues for the informal, personal feedback controls that existed among our Pleistocene progenitors.
So the other half of Somit and Peterson’s half-truth amounts to this: Although we may have a deep evolutionary legacy of behavioral proclivities and biases, these are complex in nature and are ultimately of less importance in understanding the interplay of authoritarianism and democracy in today’s world than are the many cultural influences — from child-rearing practices to “socialization”, peer pressures, social customs, the political culture, the mass media, economic conditions, institutional protections, and, not least, the “power” resources and decision “calculus” of both the rulers and the ruled.
Thus “indoctrination” — Somit and Peterson’s prescription for preserving democracy — will not suffice to ensure its future. (The sad lesson here is that Somit and Peterson became the captives of their categories.) We are still left with Plato’s dilemma: quis custodiet ipsos custodes? — who will guard the guardians? More specifically, how can we build and maintain political institutions and practices — and public respect for them — that are strong enough to constrain the rulers and protect the ruled, sometimes under very difficult economic and social conditions and very often at the expense of the rulers and/or some powerful political faction? This is the primary challenge for democracy, as it always has been. Perhaps we should also keep it in mind that democracy is not simply an old family recipe that can be mixed up on the spot, whenever the right ingredients happen to be present. It is an evolved and evolving cultural institution with many facets — an unfinished work in progress. Moreover, each new instantiation involves a “learning curve” as new institutions, rules, norms and practices are developed, or mimicked (or both) in what had previously been an alien environment. We should also keep in mind Winston Churchill’s famous judgment: “Democracy is the worst form of government — except for all the others.” Somit and Peterson themselves quote this quintessential bit of Churchillian word-play in their volume, but it is buried in one of their footnotes. They might have served us better if they had made it the frontispiece for their book.
The research literature in these two closely related fields is vast. Still relevant is R.W. White’s seminal article “Motivation Reconsidered: The Concept of Competence” in the Psychological Review (1959); also Stanley Coopersmith’s classic The Antecedents of Self-Esteem (1967). Among the many more recent publications in this area, the research of psychologists Edward Deci and Richard Ryan is especially notable; also the writings of Donald Vickery, Kenneth Pelletier and Kate Lorig.
Among the many references in this area, some standouts include Peter Senge’s The Fifth Discipline (1990); Warren Bennis’s Why Leaders Can’t Lead (1990); Robert Greenleaf’s much acclaimed and re-printed Servant Leadership: A Journey into the Nature of Legitimate Power and Greatness (1991); Russel Ackoff’s The Democratic Corporation (1994); and, of course, the prolific outpouring of volumes by management icon Peter Drucker. A good overview of this subject can be found in the edited volume by Michael Ray and Alan Rinzler, The New Paradigm in Business (1993).
Ackoff, R.L. (1994) The Democratic Corporation. New York:Oxford University Press.
Bennis, W. (1990) Why Leaders Can’t Lead. San Francisco, CA:Jossey-Bass.
Boehm C. (1997) “Impact of the Human Egalitarian Syndrome on Darwinian Selection Mechanics.” The American Naturalist, 150:100-121.
Coopersmith, S. (1967) The Antecedents of Self-Esteem. San Francisco:W.H. Freeman.
Darwin, C.R. (1874) The Descent of Man, and Selection in Relation to Sex. New York:A.L. Burt.
Dunbar, R. (1988) Primate Social Systems. London:Croom Helm.
Greenleaf, R. (1991) Servant Leadership: A Journey into the Nature of Legitimate Power and Greatness. Mahwah, NJ:Paulist Press.
Harcourt, A.H., and F.B.M. de Waal, eds. (1992) Coalitions and Alliances in Humans and Other Animals. New York:Oxford University Press.
Kummer, H. (1968) Social Organization of Hamadryas Baboons: A Field Study. Chicago:University of Chicago Press.
Kummer, H. (1971) Primate Societies: Group Techniques of Ecological Adaptation. Chicago:Aldine-Atherton.
Lopez, B. (1978) Of Wolves and Men. New York:Scribner.
Nitecki, M., and D. Nitecki (1993) Evolutionary Ethics. New York:State University of New York Press.
Ray, M., and A. Rinzler. (1993) The New Paradigm in Business. New York, NY:J.P. Tarcher/Perigee.
Senge, P. (1990) The Fifth Discipline. Doubleday.
Somit, A., and S.A. Peterson (1997) Darwinism, Dominance and Democracy: The Biological Bases of Authoritarianism. Westport, CT:Praeger.
Strum, S. (1987) Almost Human: A Journey into the World of Baboons. New York:Random House.