Ever wonder why you don't see corn in the wild? Ever see a dog too pitiful for the test of nature? This kind of thing has fascinated me for some time. That is, (gasp) the Neolithic has fascinated me.
One of the hardest things to come to terms with in Paleo is that there is almost nothing we can eat that "our ancestors ate." You hear it a lot -- hell, it's a sales pitch on the covers of half the paleo books out there ("Eat what your ancestors ate") -- but the truth is that what we eat is a faint genetic echo of what our ancestors ate.
But before I get off topic, I want to point out what's truly fascinating about all of this: it's evolution at play. And it helps to refine exactly what we should mean when we say 'Paleo'.
In May of this year, the New York Times ran an article tracing the ancestry of corn back 9,000 years to the "cradle of Maize" in southern Mexico. It reads like a palegomaniacal wet dream:
The study that the article is based on ultimately concludes that rather than the multiple-origins theory, all forms of maize originated in a single location. There are two things worth interpreting here.
In May of this year, the New York Times ran an article tracing the ancestry of corn back 9,000 years to the "cradle of Maize" in southern Mexico. It reads like a palegomaniacal wet dream:
"For most of human history, our ancestors relied entirely on hunting animals and gathering seeds, fruits, nuts, tubers and other plant parts from the wild for food. It was only about 10,000 years ago that humans in many parts of the world began raising livestock and growing food through deliberate planting. These advances provided more reliable sources of food and allowed for larger, more permanent settlements. Native Americans alone domesticated nine of the most important food crops in the world, including corn, more properly called maize (Zea mays), which now provides about 21 percent of human nutrition across the globe.
But despite its abundance and importance, the biological origin of maize has been a long-running mystery. The bright yellow, mouth-watering treat we know so well does not grow in the wild anywhere on the planet, so its ancestry was not at all obvious. Recently, however, the combined detective work of botanists, geneticists and archeologists has been able to identify the wild ancestor of maize, to pinpoint where the plant originated, and to determine when early people were cultivating it and using it in their diets."
The study that the article is based on ultimately concludes that rather than the multiple-origins theory, all forms of maize originated in a single location. There are two things worth interpreting here.
First, the example of corn highlights the fact that even among a tremendously diverse range of genetic expressions, genetic heritage can be strikingly simple (one place, one time, relatively recent). What this means is that all the human beings around you are not only remarkably different from each other, but they are remarkably different from their common ancestors, Evolutionary Adam and Evolutionary Eve (that's National Geographic's verbiage for our East African Savannah-dwelling ancestors from 60,000 years ago, not my words). This doesn't mean that we're so different as to render 'paleo logic' useless, because the adaptive pressures of the last several thousand years are identifiable (more on this below). On average, we got short, pale, and weak at the same time that we got smart, adventurous, and innovative. But we still can't chronically consume pizza without consequences.
Second, note the rapid pace of neolithic evolution. Go ahead and take another look at the corn/teosinthe picture above. That's just 9,000 years of artificial selection (reproductive selection by man, rather than by nature). Melissa McEwen's recent post on the book, The 10,000 Year Explosion, went over how human evolution was 100x faster in the Neolithic than in the Paleolithic. Now, that's still three million years of paleo versus ten thousand years of neo, but neolithic evolution can't just be dismissed. Plant and animal domestication, sedentary living and farming, and the rise of civilization should be considered as part of the big picture (NeoPaleo Diet, anyone?).
Another helpful example of neolithic evolution is the animal component of domestication. Take dogs, for example. Just like corn, all domesticated dogs descend from a single ancestor, but this time it's an ancestor way more badass than teosinthe: the gray wolf. Even wild wolves today have been tamed, but it's difficult. The reason that some dogs are easy to tame and train is because those genetic traits (friendly, social, smart) were artificially selected for by humans over thousands of years, just like the traits of big, tender, and sweet were selected for corn. Notice that friendly, social, and smart are non-physical traits. Most people think of evolution as physical change, but genetic variation includes psychological/neurological triggers too (emotion, intellect, etc.). The question is: how does this apply to humans? Well, get ready, because I'm about to coin a phrase.
Natural selection: the reproductive preference of certain genetic traits, selected for by nature.Artificial selection: the reproductive preference of certain genetic traits, selected for by humans.Semi-natural selection: the reproductive preference of certain genetic traits, selected for by civilization (the Neolithic's version of nature).
The Implications of Semi-Natural Selection and Neolithic Evolution
We've been evolving rapidly over the last 10,000 years while we thrived and multiplied on corn and wheat, so we evolved to eat them right? The answer is a general no, but a partial yes.
Some people today have tremendously negative reactions to neolithic foods (gluten, for instance), and it's sensible that the most severe cases at the turn of the Neolithic may have resulted in the removal of those genes from the gene pool (death, I mean), especially in times of challenge (food scarcity, disease, etc). The number of people who suffer immediately after grain consumption is small (celiacs, for instance), but the number who suffer from chronic grain consumption is high (obese, autoimmune?, diabetic).
Beyond acute suffering, the adaptive pressure to digest neolithic food wanes due to the time scale required. The chronic diseases take so long to develop that they don't significantly affect health until after reproductive age. So all the genes that lead to chronic health conditions stay in the gene pool. This is one major reason why we are not evolved to tolerate neolithic food on a chronic basis.
With the fall of hunting tribes and the rise of unstable societies, the reproductive advantage shifted away from the physical and toward the intellectual. In a Neolithic world of monetary systems, socio-political hierarchy, and generally unprecedented complexity, the genes that fared better in survival/reproductive terms were not the ones with advanced physicality, but those with advanced intellectuality. Political and social maneuvering, mastering advanced professional specialties, and innovative ideas were required for reproductive success and, in many cases, survival. Anthropologists universally confirm that we got shorter and weaker, but the paleo community seems to only attribute this to a less nourishing diet of Neolithic foods. I would add the dwindling importance (adaptive pressure) of physicality to that hypothesis.
As social success shifted away from the tribe, Neolithic evolution saw new genetic traits that were favored and thereby selected for through what I call semi-natural selection (see above). The development of a monetary system created a zero-sum world, one based on materials, wealth, and economic status. Clearly, the genes that win out in this world are ones that are not only intelligent, but conniving, selfish, and over-competitive to the point of deceit. To be clear, I am arguing that the Neolithic world may inherently favor those that are individualistic rather than social, autonomous rather than empathetic, and competitive rather than cooperative, for the adaptive pressure of the Neolithic world has shifted, however slight or profound, in these directions. I covered the adaptive pressure of empathy in the Paleolithic. It's reasonable to surmise that the same mechanisms of evolution would apply to the Neolithic if the adaptive pressures sufficiently changed.
It is vitally important to note the influence of geography on Neolithic evolution, because almost all variation in the species today is the result of geographic-specific adaptation. The reason that skin color changed among humans was because of an adaptation to low UVB levels in latitudes away from the equator. In order to manufacture more Vitamin D from UVB rays, skin lightened and became more sensitive to the less available light. The reason that Eskimos have more subcutaneous fat on their cheekbones and lips is because their evolutionary process took place in very cold climates. The reason that higher rates of Northern Europeans retain the ability to digest milk is because they developed lactase persistence (through Neolithic evolution), which is the enzyme that breaks down lactose. They do so remarkably better than people across the globe, and even better than they did themselves 4,000 years ago. They were among the first humans to rely on dairy as a substantial nutrient source; the Northern European climate provided significant adaptive pressure due to the lack of stable food alternatives, unlike other dairying cultures. Again, the pace of evolution is strikingly clear. Evolution occurs as fast as genes can vary, but as slow as the adaptive pressures dictate.
We can also run with the idea of geographic-specific Neolithic adaption in order to shed light on modern anthropology. For sure, many folks hinge hypotheses (and even conclusions) on the anthropological study of remote hunter-gatherer tribes. However, there is no doubt that geographic-specific adaptation has taken place for these modern hunter-gatherers. Looking at the carb-loading, coconut fat-gorging Kitavans can definitely be a helpful example for exploring a healthy lifestyle, but you have to take this information with a grain of salt, because you can't assume that your body will react the same way their geographically adapted bodies will. This isn't to discount anthropology. We're simply broadening our thought process to include Neolithic evolution in the consideration of what constitutes the big picture.