Action Anthropology

Author(s): Sol Tax

Source: Current Anthropology , Dec., 1975, Vol. 16, No. 4 (Dec., 1975), pp. 514-517
Published by: The University of Chicago Press on behalf of Wenner-Gren Foundation
for Anthropological Research

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 2
Action Anthropology'
by Sol Tax
THE CENTRAL CONCEPT of anthropology has always been that
which we call culture. As the world is discovered, it becomes
compelling to notice that peoples live by different standards,
in different ways. The particular way of life of a population
we call its culture. We know that cultures pass down in a
community from one generation to the next; that they persist
at the same time that they change. We sometimes talk about
culture as the social heredity of man. Anthropologists have
developed a tremendous volume of data on the cultures of the
world, past and present. The data-descriptions of the cultures
that man has developed on this planet-are indeed so volumi-
nous that it has become impracticable to compile or summarize
then in a single work. They require a library, no less, from
which we may select; and we are on the way to using the great
computing machines to make this possible. Out of the bewilder-
ing variety of cultural forms that we see-the variety is so
great that we sometimes wonder if any custom we can imagine
has not in fact been practiced by men somewhere-out of this
variety we have in the past 120 years since the founding of our
discipline hammered out a great many generalizations about
man and culture and about cultures and societies of men.
The theory of cultural and social anthropology becomes
enlarged and modified, and enriched, as do the theories of all
sciences, with each passing year, decade, generation. We
gather our fads and novelties, probing and playing as all
scientists must. We also develop a lot of new words, which
come in and out of fashion; and in the profession we fuss and
fume about them, and even call names.
I recall for example when I was a graduate student the great
word was functionalism; people were or weren't functionalists,
and some who were supposed to be denied it. It turned out of
course that the label covered many things, and was a different
symbol for different people. After all, a community of scholars
and scientists is a community and subject to variations of the
same cultural and social processes as other communities.
I have come here this afternoon to speak about something
called action anthropology. It is a phrase which appears to be
my invention-first used publicly in 1951. I do not know how
widely it is being used, and what it means to all those who
may use it-nor whether in some circles it may not even be a
bad word. There is a growing circle of anthropologists who
have worked together at the University of Chicago; and what I
propose to do here is try only to make clear what we mean by
the phrase, and how we have been practicing action anthro-
pology.
1 This paper was originally an address given at the University of
Michigan, Ann Arbor, Mich., U.S.A., March 20, 1958. It was
printed in the Journal of Social Research (Bihar, Ranchi, India) in
March-September 1959 and is reprinted here by permission of
the publishers.
514 CURRENT
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The first thing to make clear is that we are theoretical
anthropologists who are part of the tradition of cultural
anthropology. Culture is our central concept, and everything
else depends upon it. We see that American Indians for example
have ways of looking at the world and themselves different
from the ways characteristic of the general society which
surrounds them. The Indian groups with which we have been
working are generally not comfortable in situations where they
are expected aggressively to get ahead of the next person; our
idea of success, which we take for granted, they must learn
about-and when they learn about it they often do not like it.
It runs counter to a moral system of their own. This moral
system respects the individual so much that majority rule is
hard to accept, implying as it does that the views of some
people are less valuable than the views of other people, and
can be ruled out. At the same time the individual feels that
he exists only as part of a community of him and neighbors,
and that the harmony of the group is the most important value.
The individual personality generally developed in Indian
cultures is different from that generally valued and developed
in ours. These are propositions well-known to anthropologists,
developed as part of the general body of information and theory.
Action anthropologists are heavily involved in this kind of
cultural difference. We take for granted that wherever in the
world we are likely to work we shall be faced with the proba-
bility that the value systems of two peoples in contact are very
different. We use. this theory and it is our object to help
develop it.
We are interested in developing this theory in a fairly
restricted context. All over the world there are communities of
people under pressure to change their ways. In anthropology
this is often called the acculturation situation. I am happy to
use the term provided there is no implication that the inevitable
result of the pressure of large societies on small will be the
disappearance of either the small society or its culture. Cultures
are always changing, of course, but they do not always change
in the direction of another culture. When demands are made
on a community to do things which it deems wrong, even
impossible, the demands frequently are simply not met. People
stubbornly want to change in their own directions; and an
impasse results. American Indian communities are good
examples close at hand. They are not conservative except if
you call it "conservatism" when people won't change the way
you want them to change. In aboriginal times the American
Indians were notoriously able quickly to adjust to new environ-
ments and new circumstances. In the early days of European
contact they made rapid and constructive adjustments. It is
only when they could not freely adjust in their own way-
and would not give up what seemed to them essential-that
the impasse developed.
This is a world-wide syndrome, we believe; and it is what
ANTHROPOLOGY
we are more specifically studying. We think that the general
method and theory has applicability to a wide variety of
situations, of course; I am willing to discuss in these terms
teen-age behavior under the pressure of adult norms, or the
interrelations in a Chicago neighborhood of urban middle-
class people and the new immigrants from the rural south.
But we are satisfied to confine action anthropology to the
syndrome I have described where peoples of radically different
cultures are in contact, with a relatively small community
under pressure of a power-laden larger society which has
technical and political advantages. In these situations we are
more comfortably in the anthropological tradition.
In the anthropological tradition, we study such a situation
at first hand. We are field researchers. Indeed I cannot imagine
action anthropology except in the context of field work. We
go to the field to learn something new about the circumstances
in our context of change and of resistance to change. This
requires that our field work include in a single purview all of
the people involved in the contact situation-a native tribe
and the missionaries, traders, or government representatives
and the residents of other cultures with whom they have
contact. Therefore, in our project with the Fox Indians of
Iowa (for example) we have had to deal with selected people
and organizations not only of Tama County, but of the whole
State, and also of course Washington, D.C., and to understand
the cultures and the needs and wants not only of the Indians
but of the government bureaus and others who are part of
their situation.
All anthropologists studying processes in the so-called ac-
culturation situation probably must extend their field of study
in this manner.
A major characteristic of the action anthropologist in the
same situation is that we have adopted what might be called a
clinical or experimental method of study. We do not conceive of
ourselves as simply observing what would happen "naturally";
we are willing to make things happen, or to help them along,
or at least to be catalysts. We believe we can learn many things
in this way that we could not learn in any other way. So we
are anthropologists interested in anthropological problems,
but we pursue them in a context of action. Hence the phrase
action anthropology.
And now inevitably we come to the philosophical context in
which we work. We have had to adopt and develop a philos-
ophy of science and also a general philosophy-a value position
if you wish-which fits the kind of work we do, and makes it
possible.
We think our philosophy of science is quite within the major
historical tradition of the discipline. Anthropology has roots
rather in natural history-like geology, biology, and the like-
than in the kind of positive science that Comte pronounced for
the origin of sociology. In all of our disciplines there are the
more scientistic and the less scientistic wings; anthropology
has its scientistic wing too, but I think it is not as large as in
sociology and psychology, for example. The philosophy of
action anthropology is on the less scientistic side. We try to
learn, and we try to be as exact as possible, and to know why
we think we know something. But we could not do what we call
action anthropology if we did not have a great tolerance for
ambiguity. One simply cannot wait to act until he knows
enough to calculate the statistical probabilities that he knows
what he is doing. So we have cast off the straightjacket of a
model of science that looks like high-school physics as at least
it was once taught, and accept one that is a little more clinical.
We are in general disturbed by the use of the means-ends
formulation; in this we recall John Dewey, doubtless. The end
cannot justify the means for us; and science cannot justify
anything. From the very beginning therefore we have defined
action anthropology (Tax 1952:103-6) as
Vol. 16 * No. 4 *
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Tax: ACTION ANTHROPOLOGY
an activity in which an anthropologist has two coordinate goals, to
neither one of which he will delegate an inferior position. He wants
to help a group of people to solve a problem, and he wants to learn
something in the process. He refuses ever to think or to say that the
people involved are for him a means of advancing his knowledge;
and he refuses to think or to say that he is simply applying science
to the solution of those people's problems.
Whether action anthropology is a variety of applied anthro-
pology, or something quite different, depends on one's conception
of applied anthropology, which is itself changing rapidly. If
applied anthropology presupposes a body of scientific knowledge-
compendent empirical propositions-developed by theoretical
anthropologists and awaiting application to particular situations
when we are asked to do so by management, government, ad-
ministrator, or organization, then action anthropology is far
different. For one thing, the action anthropologist can have no
master; he works as a member of the academic community. For
another, the action anthropologist realizes that his problem is less
the application of general propositions than the development and
classification of goals and the compromising of conflicting ends or
values. In fact, the action anthropologist finds that the proportion
of new knowledge which must be developed in the situation is very
great in comparison to old knowledge which he can apply. He is
and must be a theoretical anthropologist, not only in background
but in practice.
But of course the action anthropologist eschews "pure science."
For one thing his work requires that he not use people for an end
not related to their own welfare: people are not rats and ought not
to be treated like them. Not only should we not hurt people; we
should not use them for our own ends. Community research is thus
justifiable only to the degree that the results are imminently
useful to the community and easily outweigh the disturbance to it.
When the theoretical anthropologist publishes his report of a
literate community, he changes the name and disguises it as well
as he can-and perhaps keeps away from the place. The towns-
people may resent his having used them for some purpose not their
own. Sometimes they suppose he has made millions off them. The
action anthropologist on the other hand characteristically would
not only not publish anonymously but his report is likely to be part of
the program itself, participated in by the community. In any case,
he has moral justification for expecting the community which gains
from his scholarship to help the development of neW knowledge
that may be used to help others. One may characterize action
anthropology by saying that the community in which it works is
not only its subject of study but also its object.
The action anthropologist disclaims pure science also because
his method is what I call clinical, perhaps experimental, in the
sense that a physician continually improves his diagnosis with
tentative remedies. Theory in the field of socio-cultural dynamics
requires that we understand not simply the "culture" and its
personality characteristics, and the functional interrelations of
institutions, but also the perceptions by people of the alternatives
which face them in changing situations. Such perceptions critically
influence the ultimate reaction of the society and culture to a
change. The best if not only way to test a hypothesis concerning a
group's perception of a situation is to change the situation in terms
of the hypothesis. Indeed, one may say that description of the
culture itself (in such terms) requires a program of action in the
same way that diagnosis of a sickness often requires treatment. The
interplay between understanding of the situation and doing some-
thing about it and understanding it better is so intimate in theory
concerning the dynamics of acculturation that simple observation
is a wholly inadequate tool.
Moreover, I must emphasize that in this work current theory is
never enough. The basic problem that the action anthropologist
deals with is community organization, and his chief tool is educa-
tion. If a teacher in a simple classroom situation must add art and
experience to science, and must forever try and change and try
again, how much more so must this be true of the action anthro-
pologist who is intent on affecting a total situation that includes
perhaps a dependent people, itself split into factions; a bureaucracy
which represents power; and surrounding communities of different
culture; each with its personalities and its history, its expectations
and its views of the others! In such a complex situation his ever
increasing storehouse of proved knowledge is useful but never
December 1975 515
sufficient. He must guess and improvise, and in some degree always
play by feel. In order to learn, he must therefore teach; and thus
deny himself the simple role of observer, or even participant
observer. He becomes in a sense a more responsible scientist,
playing "for keeps" in the development of his theory; with the
consequences of error a burden heavy upon his own work, his
future, his conscience. Lost then is the comfortable familiarity of
objectivity, and the mantle of science as it is usually understood.
Not only is the action anthropologist faced with an array of
difficult problems in his work, but he may be suspected by col-
leagues of deserting the common ideal of building an edifice of
theory in terms of tested general propositions of some kind. It is
difficult to get funds for work; familiar research patterns are
violated. Perhaps it is also difficult to get theses written and
accepted.
To some people action anthropology may even be confused with
social work. Indeed, we often find ourselves dealing with social
agencies, Rotary Clubs, missionaries, and the like. But it is not
social work. This brings me now to the other side of the coin. Just
as action anthropology cannot be pure science for reasons both
ethical and academic, so also-for reasons not dissimilar-it can
never simply apply knowledge to a practical social problem.
I have said that the corpus of knowledge that may be applied to
a situation always falls far short of the needs of effective action.
Application of what knowledge there is one takes for granted. Not
to turn about to replenish the common pot seems almost immoral.
Every situation has its unique elements, and should be reported.
One at least hopes that physicians report their cases, and we
expect the same of applied anthropologists of all kinds. But to
report applications is only the least that we expect. I have indicated
that the action anthropologist works relatively little in terms of
applying knowledge. He improvises and creates; he learns more
from his trials than he puts into them in the way of knowledge.
He cannot do his practical work unless he can create new knowl-
edge. Therefore he must be primarily a scholar, oriented to
academic ends, and part of the tradition and of the community
of scholars. In short, he must be a researcher, with all that this
implies.
As I have recently looked back on what we actually do, I
have reformulated our system of values as comprising three
that we live by-three that are in fact operational. In terms of
these three values I believe I can now summarize what we do
as action anthropologists (Tax 1958:18-19):
First, there is the value of truth. We are anthropologists in the
tradition of science and scholarship. Nothing would embarrass us
more than to see that we have been blinded to verifiable fact by
any other values or emotions. We believe that truth and knowledge
are more constructive in the long run than falsehood and super-
stition. We want to remain anthropologists and not become
propagandists; we'd rather be right according to canons of evidence
than win a practical point. But we also feel impelled to trumpet
our truth against whatever falsehoods we find, whether they are
deliberate or psychological or mythological. This would be a duty
to science and truth, even if the fate of communities of men were
not involved. But since some myths are part of the problem of
American Indians it is also a duty to humanity, and outraged
justice. Our action anthropology thus gets a moral and even
missionary tinge that is perhaps more important for some of us
than for others.
Second, we feel most strongly the value of freedom, as it is classi-
cally expressed and limited. Freedom in our context means
usually freedom for individuals to choose the group with which to
identify, and freedom for a community to choose its way of life.
Nothing would embarrass us more than to be shown that we are
for example encouraging Indians to remain Indians, rather than
to become something else, or trying to preserve Indian cultures,
when the Indians involved would choose otherwise. All we want
in our action programs is to provide if we can genuine alternatives
from which the people involved can freely choose- and to be
ourselves as little restrictive as is humanly possible. It follows,
however, that we must try to remove restrictions imposed by
others on the alternatives open to Indians, and on their freedom to
choose among them. We avoid imposing our values upon the
516 CURRENT ANTHROPOLOGY
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Indians, but we do not mean to leave a vacuum for other outsiders
to fill. Our program is positive, not negative; it is a program of
action, not inaction; but it is a program of probing, listening,
learning, giving in.
This requires that we remove ourselves as much as possible
from a position of power, or undue influence. We know that
knowledge is power, and we try hard to reject the power that
knowledge gives us. Perhaps this seems contrary to the functioning
of applied science? We realize that we have knowledge that our
Indian friends do not have, and we hope to use it for their good.
But to impose our choices on the assumption that "we know better
than they do what is good for them" not only restricts their freedom,
but is likely to turn out to be empirically wrong. The point is that
what is best for them involves what they want to be. But opera-
tionally this is knowable only by observing which alternatives they
actually choose. Hence we defeat ourselves to the degree that we
choose for them. Hence we find ourselves always discovering and
not applying knowledge.
So our value of freedom is partly an ethic and partly a way of
learning the truth. At least we see no contradiction between our
first two values.
A third value-or is it a principle of operation?-is a kind of
Law of Parsimony which tells us not to settle questions of values
unless they concern us. This in a way is a value to end for us the
problem of values. In the beginning of our Fox program, having
decided to interfere for some good purpose, we were beset with
value problems. Some of us were for and some of us were against
the assimilation of the Indians; what a marvelously happy moment
it was when we realized that this was not a judgment or decision
we needed to make. It was a decision for the people concerned,
not for us. Bluntly, it was none of our business. This not only freed
us, but the particular instance was the beginning of the philosophy
of our action program. As I look back now I see that this has been
our general solution to value problems. When it became necessary
to decide which of conflicting values to choose, we eventually found
ourselves not deciding at all, and finding some way around it.
Perhaps it is time now to set this down systematically as an operat-
ing value.
People are always asking us whether we think cannibals have a
right to self-determination. With respect to cannibalism, wouldn't
we have to impose some value of our own? Now, I neither eat
human flesh, nor like the thought of being eaten; I am as revolted
as others in our culture by the whole idea. I have no notion what I
would do if I found myself involved in an action program on a
cannibal isle; I can only think of jokes to say. If I attempt to
answer seriously I am beset with all the value contradictions involved
in so-called cultural relativism. But whatever my personal position
on this, it has no significant bearing on what we should do tomorrow t
help the Fox Indians develop more constructive relationships within
their community, or with other Iowans.
I do not want to be interpreted now as anti-philosophical;
problems of values are intellectually and personally important to
all of us, and to anthropology. We need to discuss them. The only
question at issue is the degree to which they need to be resolved
before action can be taken. Clearly the answer depends upon the
actor, the problem, and the alternatives open. It must be different
for every case. The general rule that we have found useful is there-
fore only a limiting principle. It is that which, I understand,
underlies the operations of the Supreme Court of the United States.
The Court will not decide constitutional questions in the abstract,
but insists that a case be at issue; and even then it tries to decide
the case on technicalities if possible, and avoid as long as possible
deciding the general issues.
I take it this is wise and necessary because in human life issues
arise only when there are no good easy answers, and the decision
becomes a choice of evils. By definition it is good to postpone doing
something bad.
In the same way, and generally for the same reason, we too avoid
making decisions when (1) (as in the instance of Indian assimila-
tion) they are not clearly ours to make, and when (2) (as in the
instance of cannibalism) they can be postponed. This is a general
rule of action for us, to be followed-like all our rules-as well as
humanly possible. But I mention it here only in the context of the
problem of values itself, to the point that this rule of parsimony
puts a limitation on our liability for value judgments as they relate
to our programs of action.
 An issue that has lately arisen among us, for example, is whether Tax: ACTION ANTHROPOLOGY

we put freedom or self-determination as a higher value. What, we

ask, if a community wants to remain dependent? The book by
0. Mannoni [1956] recently translated into English as Prospero
and Caliban argues that Malagasy communities resist being given
independence, and the question arises: Does self-determination
include the right to determine not to be self-determining; and if so,
are we still for it? Or do we rather force freedom on a community?
This question seems critical only because some people think that
American Indians have become dependent in this sense, and that an
umbilical cord tying them to the government must be cut. Our
procedure in the face of this is (1) to forget about Madagascar-
we don't know if what Mannoni says is or is not true; we have no
way of finding out, by methods which satisfy us, except by going
there and working with a community in an experiment with
freedom; and (2) to re-examine the factual situation of American
Indians to make doubly sure that American Indian communities
can operate independently under given conditions that they help
choose. The result is a discovery that we have now answered the
question for purposes of action; we find we do not need to settle
the hypothetical problem or the general issue, and need no longer
be diverted from our task. Thus new data, new alternatives, new
value issues give rise to new problems for analysis and study-but
the problems are settled in the concrete instances where we operate
even though left unsettled forever in the abstract.
Perhaps now it is clear why whenever I talk about action
anthropology I begin-and perhaps end-by talking about
Indians, or some other concrete referent. We cannot separate
our theory from our problems and our programs; action
anthropology is all of these together.

Vol. 16 -No. 4 * December 1975 517

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