Bipedal
Locomotion
Baboons survive today because their ancestors evolved a
successful approach for living on the savannah.
They did this by organizing into powerful bad ass gangs. Like all other non-human animals, baboons still
survive by living in the manner for which evolution has fine-tuned them, free
from addictions to crutches like fire or complex weapons. They stayed in their tropical homeland, and
could possibly remain there for another million years, if the human turbulence
in their ecosystem mercifully mellowed out.
Unlike baboons, our ancestors took a radically different
approach to surviving on tropical savannahs.
They quit knuckle walking, evolved an upright posture, and became
bipedal — standing, striding, and sprinting on two legs, not four. This transition reduced or eliminated their
ability to quickly scamper up trees, where they were less vulnerable to
predators. So, a new category of
primates was born: hominins — bipedal ground-dwelling primates.
The earliest bipedal primate is the subject of
controversy. It may have lived as early
as 6 million years ago. By about 4
million years ago, our ancestors’ feet had become less useful for grasping
(climbing trees), and more attuned for walking smoothly.
In Tanzania, 3.6 million years ago, two bipedal ancestors
left their footprints in wet volcanic ash.
In 1978, at the Laetoli site, scientists discovered 70 of their
fossilized footprints, in a sequence that was 88 feet long (27m). These ancestors
were probably Australopithecus afarensis.
Why the shift to bipedal travel? Over time, as climate change expanded
grassland, the distance between groves of trees increased. Knuckle walking is OK for short trips, but
striding is more comfortable and energy efficient for longer journeys. Standing upright provided a better view of
the surroundings. It also made them more
visible to hungry predators. It freed up
their hands for carrying things like food, water, infants, embers, and tools.
For brief high-speed getaways, hominins were far slower than
galloping chimps. Alfred Crosby noted
that bipedal striding is like walking on stilts, and it increases the odds for
falling down. Four-legged critters
(quadrupeds) like canines, cats, or horses move in a manner that is far more
graceful, stable, and speedy.
On the savannah, evolution typically selected for prey
animals that were better high speed escape artists. Consequently, it also selected for the
predators that were more effective at killing them. If prey gradually got larger, predators
gradually got larger. If prey got
faster, so did the predators. If prey
got too good at surviving, they would overgraze the savannah and starve. If predators got too good at hunting, they
would eliminate their prey and starve.
The ecosystem was an endless bloody evolutionary soap opera.
With regard to our ancestors, evolution advanced an unusual
mutation. Instead of size or speed, it
selected for heat tolerance and long distance running. Compared to four-legged critters, standing
upright exposed less of their bodies to hot sunbeams, and their bushy hairdos
provided extra heat protection. Their
nearly furless bodies, equipped with three million juicy sweat glands, allowed
them to shed body heat better than other savannah mammals.
Tree-dwelling primates enjoyed a diet majoring in fruit,
which grew all around them, all year long.
On the savannah, there was less fruit, so foraging required travelling
farther, and finding other things to eat.
Some believe that our ancestors became bipedal to improve their success
at scavenging — beating competitors to fresh carcasses. Bernd Heinrich wrote that at Yellowstone
Park, dead animals are reduced to a pile of bones in just seven hours. In Africa, hyenas devour the bones too.
The person you see in the mirror has a body that is optimized
for running, not walking. Your toes and
heel tendons provide a bounce when your foot hits the ground, improving energy
efficiency. Your legs and spine are
fine-tuned for jogging, keeping your head and eyes steady. Skilled runners gracefully glide along,
lightly skimming across the land.
The shift to bipedal locomotion resulted in some radical
changes in our ancestors’ skeletons.
Notably, the pelvis got narrower, which reduced the size of the birth
canal — the passageway through which fetuses pass during birth. This challenge was dealt with in two
ways. (1) Birth occurred earlier, when
brains were smaller and less mature.
This extended the duration of childhood, the spacing between births, and
the need for extended parental oversight.
(2) Since bipeds no longer slept in the trees, they could grow heavier
and bigger. Increased size was an asset
for hunting and defense. Longer legs
enabled longer strides, which boosted running speed. Larger bodies retained water better, delaying
dehydration.
Bipedal locomotion was an unusual evolutionary
experiment. Few if any humans still live
in the manner for which evolution fine-tuned us, a practice known as
persistence hunting.
Persistence
Hunting
On the savannah, predators made speedy attacks, and their
prey attempted quick getaways, but both soon had to find shade and chill out,
because bursts of high exertion promptly led to overheating. Consequently, predator attacks were resolved
quickly. If a charging lion failed to
promptly take down its target, the attack ended, and the prey might live to see
another day.
Our ancestors gained the ability to engage in steady
long distance running, hour after hour, in the oven-like midday heat of
tropical savannahs. Once a chase began,
the prey animals immediately scattered.
The hunter quickly selected an animal that was less strong and speedy,
and began trotting after it. Even when
the prey was miles ahead, the hunter would doggedly follow its trail, reducing
its ability to rest and cool off.
Persistence hunting requires no weapons. Hunters must possess a deep understanding of
animal behavior, great skill in the art of tracking, an intuitive mind, a
healthy body, and sufficient water and nutrients for a long run. Kalahari people had exceptional tracking
skills. Women were as good as men, or better,
at interpreting spoor. At the end of a
successful pursuit, the prey might collapse from exhaustion or heat stroke, or
simply stop running. If the hunter found
it still alive, he could suffocate it or bonk it on the head.
Liebenberg was maybe the first civilized person to
participate in persistence hunting (he nearly died from heat stroke). He observed a six and a half hour chase that
covered 21.7 miles (35 km), on a day when the temperature ranged between 89°F
and 107°F (32°C and 42°C).
He noted that tracking encouraged wild people to develop
heightened abilities for intuitive thinking, because the tracks of their prey
were rarely clear and complete. Knowledge
of animal behavior helped to fill in the blanks and suggest the most likely
escape route. The mental process was
fast, automatic, effortless, and often unconscious. Intuition also enhanced social
relationships. Wild people were far more
sensitive to each other than folks in the modern world, whom Liebenberg saw as
being severely handicapped by shallow or dysfunctional relationships.
Maybe our ancestors learned persistence hunting from hyenas,
who hunt in packs, using their super-sensitive noses to follow animals until
they are exhausted. Or, maybe they first
learned by chasing small, slow moving critters.
Somehow, maybe several million years ago, our hominin ancestors learned the
clever trick of using overheating and exhaustion as deadly weapons — and the
keys to survival.
Every gardener who has experienced backaches or sore knees,
is painfully aware that evolution did not fine tune hominins for spending long
hours on their knees or bent over, engaged in tedious repetitive movements —
digging, cultivating, planting, weeding, picking, threshing, grinding, and so
on. What you see in the mirror is a body
optimized for long distance pursuits across hot African savannahs — a
meat-loving hunter and forager.
Bears have never forgotten their identity, consequently they
confidently continue to live like bears, which is why they remain perfectly
sane, and have no need for psych meds.
The same can be said for all the wild animals alive today. The glaring exception is a super large mob of
modernized persistence hunters who have become extremely disoriented by memory
loss.
Young children, even in the deepest darkest McMansion
suburbs, are fascinated by bears, lions, horses, bunnies, piggies, and
others. They play with teddy bears,
pretend to be horses, and love looking at animals in picture books. The kids are animals, and their hominin
ancestors have been fascinated by animals for six million years. Sadly, most will spend their lives in a
reality where most of the animals they’ll closely experience will be thoroughly
domesticated critters purchased for companionship or status display.
Jung said that we still retain unconscious memories of our
arboreal past, when falling out of trees caused big fear. Many of us have suddenly awakened with a gasp
when a dream included a sudden plunge.
Nightmares commonly involve being chased or attacked by dangerous
predators. In crowded movie theaters,
when the woman is about to be stabbed by a psycho killer, the hall explodes
with loud squeals and screams, like our primate ancestors in a distant
rainforest.
Over the last six million years, every species of bipedal
primate has gone extinct, except one — and almost all of us have abandoned
persistence hunting as a routine component of basic survival. Don’t worry.
Close your eyes and imagine what humans might become if we spent the
next 200,000 years sitting on couches, staring at glowing screens, washing down
greasy pizza with fizzy sugar water.
Running
Goes Global
By and by, as hominins spread far beyond the savannahs of
tropical Africa, so did persistence hunting.
It spread around the world, because it works, and because evolution
fine-tuned us for doing it. For almost
the entire hominin saga, we lived on our feet.
Running was a key factor in our ancestors’ survival, until we got
wheels, four legged slaves, and other weird and troublesome things.
Tim Flannery reported that the Aborigines of Western
Australia would pursue an individual kangaroo until it was overheated and
exhausted. The chase could take several
days. Johann Kohl wrote that the Ojibway
would often run down elk, especially in the winter, when deep snow soon wore
out the animal. Hunters on snowshoes
could pursue the animal for hours. Kohl
also mentioned a Sioux hunter who chased a bear to exhaustion.
Bernd Heinrich wrote about the Penobscot tribe chasing down
moose, and the Navajo and Paiutes wearing out pronghorn antelopes. In Southern Africa, hunters chased steenbok,
gemsbok, wildebeest, zebras, and others.
Wendell Bennett wrote about the Tarahumara people of Mexico pursuing
deer and turkeys until they collapsed.
Peter Nabokov noted that some Tarahumara lads could run 170
miles (273 km) without stopping.
Mexicans would hire them to capture wild horses, sometimes chasing them
for two or three days, until the horses could run no more — while the men
remained fresh. Nabokov quoted a Hopi
man: “Long ago when the Hopi had no sheep, no horses, no burros, they had to
depend for game-capturing on their legs.”
Nabokov provided numerous accounts of Indian messengers
traveling great distances. One ran 50
miles in six hours. A Mojave lad ran 200
miles (322 km) in 24 hours. Seven days a
week, a Tarahumara man ran a 70 mile (112 km) route, carrying a heavy
mailbag. After running 15 miles (24 km),
Zuni runners still had a slow heart rate and no signs of fatigue. Men in their seventies continued to have
tremendous endurance, as well as low blood pressure.
For wild people in open country, running was essential for
communication, warfare, hunting, ceremonies, and rituals. Apache boys of 8 to 12 years old regularly
ran to improve their endurance and pain tolerance. They ran carrying big loads, and they ran up
mountains. Apache warriors were much
stronger and braver than the U.S. Army lads sent to exterminate them.
Nabokov wrote that 4-year old Navajo boys had to get up
before sunrise every day and run four miles before having breakfast. Speed and strength were essential when
attacking enemies, or being attacked. No
one will help you in this world, you must run to get strong. Your legs are your friends.
I spent many years sitting indoors at school desks, learning
reading, writing, and arithmetic, loading my brains with the ideas necessary to
be an obedient, punctual, productive cog in the industrial society that’s
pounding the planet to pieces. Wild
Native Americans, during the years of their youth, were being taught to be
strong, brave, and extremely healthy.
They learned the skills needed to survive in their ecosystem, in a low
impact manner. During their entire
lives, they sent nothing to landfills.
6 comments:
I love your blog. It's one of my favorites and I'm looking forward to reading your book. Your blog and the books from your blog that I've read have helped to change the way that I look at the world.
I'm raising two boys. I've come to the conclusion over the last two years that the way I'm bringing them up is not how I should be. I'm more or less setting them up for the world that i grew up in and due to resource depletion it is not going to be possible for them to enjoy what i enjoyed. At least over the long haul anyway.
We've got lots of field guide books in our bookshelf on all sorts of topics except the one that I need the most. How to raise happy resilient children in the face of culture that is totally insane.
I thought i knew how to raise my children. I thought i knew how to prepare them for the world. Having read some of your books on how stone age people raise their children I'm no longer so sure.
I hope your book contains a chapter or three on the topic.
Regards Perran
PS I wish I didn't continue the Santa Claus myth. It's nothing but consumerism gone nuts. Why did I let my kids believe some b#@$/_*t story about a fat man in a red suit flying around the world giving out presents.
Hi Perran! Yes, I also hate Christmas. A million trucks rolling down the highways, hauling merchandise to stores, which will be purchased by the devoutly religious and taken home, and then shipped off to landfills in the following months and years. Staggering waste, for no good reason.
I have no plans for a chapter on raising kids. I have no offspring. I get spooked and saddened by kids who spend every waking minute riveted to technology. I think that nature is far more important — growing up in a place where seeing a variety of wild animals is a common experience, a place where it’s safe to wander and explore. I devote a fair amount of attention to my love of nature in my first book, What Is Sustainable. Here are a few more suggestions:
I reviewed Jean Liedloff’s classic book, The Continuum Concept, HERE
I reviewed Jay Griffiths’ book, Kith, HERE
I posted into on Jon Young and nature connection HERE
The following is a link to a long and fun essay on the role of play in wild cultures. The section on education begins on page 30 of the PDF (page 505 in the original document). HERE
Thanks for the links. I pulled the antenna the tv 12 months ago. The iPad got taken away not long after. I came to the realisation some time ago that a love of nature in childhood doesn't come about by spending endless hours in front of a screen. Unfortunately I've also come to the realisation that screen time is only one of a whole raft of bad behaviors/habits that need to be chucked into the rubbish bin.
Perran
Actually, I will be including a chapter on how wild people connected to the family of life around them. It will have almost nothing in common with raising kids in the 21st century consumer society. If you snatch away the kids’ screens, it might cause make them look like oddballs in the eyes of their peers.
I love Colin Turnbull’s book, The Human Cycle. HERE
Paul Shepard is also a deep thinker. On my blog sidebar is a “List of Reviews and Rants” link. Peek at these:
Coming Home to the Pleistocene by Paul Shepard
Encounters with Nature by Paul Shepard
Nature and Madness by Paul Shepard
The Others by Paul Shepard
Thinking Animals by Paul Shepard
The Tender Carnivore by Paul Shepard
Where We Belong by Paul Shepard
Rick, I just read this aloud to Connie and (of course!) we both loved it.
You're a great writer, my friend! And the content is fabulouso, too!!
Big new year cyberhug,
~ M & C
Hi Michael! Thanks! As I was biking to the library this morning, I was thinking about Connie. I was wondering if “blitzkrieg” was a misleading term with regard to the New World megafauna extinctions. Hitler’s 1939 blitzkrieg took weeks, but the extinctions must have taken more than a thousand years, and were likely not even noticed by the many generations that lived and died.
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