CHAPTER 2
A NATURAL EXPERIMENT OF HISTORY
ON THE CHATHAM ISLANDS, 500 MILES EAST OF NEW
Zealand, centuries of independence came to a brutal end for the
Moriori people in December 1835. On November 19 of that year, a
ship carrying 500 Maori armed with guns, clubs, and axes arrived,
followed on December 5 by a shipload of 400 more Maori. Groups of
Maori began to walk through Moriori settlements, announcing that
the Moriori were now their slaves, and killing those who objected.
An organized resistance by the Moriori could still then have
defeated the Maori, who were outnumbered two to one. However, the
Moriori had a tradition of resolving disputes peacefully. They
decided in a council meeting not to fight back but to offer peace,
friendship, and a division of resources.
Before the Moriori could deliver that offer,
the Maori attacked en masse. Over the course of the next few days,
they killed hundreds of Moriori, cooked and ate many of the bodies,
and enslaved all the others, killing most of them too over the next
few years as it suited their whim. A Moriori survivor recalled,
“[The Maori] commenced to kill us like sheep…. [We] were terrified,
fled to the bush, concealed ourselves in holes underground, and in
any place to escape our enemies. It was of no avail; we were
discovered and killed—men, women, and children indiscriminately.” A
Maori conqueror explained. “We took possession…in accordance with
our customs and we caught all the people. Not one escaped. Some ran
away from us, these we killed, and others we killed—but what of
that? It was in accordance with our custom.”
The brutal outcome of this collision between
the Moriori and the Maori could have been easily predicted. The
Moriori were a small, isolated population of hunter-gatherers,
equipped with only the simplest technology and weapons, entirely
inexperienced at war, and lacking strong leadership or
organization. The Maori invaders (from New Zealand’s North Island)
came from a dense population of farmers chronically engaged in
ferocious wars, equipped with more-advanced technology and weapons,
and operating under strong leadership. Of course, when the two
groups finally came into contact, it was the Maori who slaughtered
the Moriori, not vice versa.
The tragedy of the Moriori resembles many other
such tragedies in both the modern and the ancient world, pitting
numerous well-equipped people against few ill-equipped opponents.
What makes the Maori-Moriori collision grimly illuminating is that
both groups had diverged from a common origin less than a
millennium earlier. Both were Polynesian peoples. The modern Maori
are descendants of Polynesian farmers who colonized New Zealand
around A.D. 1000. Soon thereafter, a group of those Maori in turn
colonized the Chatham Islands and became the Moriori. In the
centuries after the two groups separated, they evolved in opposite
directions, the North Island Maori developing more-complex and the
Moriori less-complex technology and political organization. The
Moriori reverted to being hunter-gatherers, while the North Island
Maori turned to more intensive farming.
Those opposite evolutionary courses sealed the
outcome of their eventual collision. If we could understand the
reasons for the disparate development of those two island
societies, we might have a model for understanding the broader
question of differing developments on the continents.
MORIORI AND MAORI history constitutes a
brief, small-scale natural experiment that tests how environments
affect human societies. Before you read a whole book examining
environmental effects on a very large scale—effects on human
societies around the world for the last 13,000 years—you might
reasonably want assurance, from smaller tests, that such effects
really are significant. If you were a laboratory scientist studying
rats, you might perform such a test by taking one rat colony,
distributing groups of those ancestral rats among many cages with
differing environments, and coming back many rat generations later
to see what had happened. Of course, such purposeful experiments
cannot be carried out on human societies. Instead, scientists must
look for “natural experiments,” in which something similar befell
humans in the past.
Such an experiment unfolded during the
settlement of Polynesia. Scattered over the Pacific Ocean beyond
New Guinea and Melanesia are thousands of islands differing greatly
in area, isolation, elevation, climate, productivity, and
geological and biological resources (Figure 2.1). For most of human
history those islands lay far beyond the reach of watercraft.
Around 1200 B.C. a group of farming, fishing, seafaring people from
the Bismarck Archipelago north of New Guinea finally succeeded in
reaching some of those islands. Over the following centuries their
descendants colonized virtually every habitable scrap of land in
the Pacific. The process was mostly complete by A.D. 500, with the
last few islands settled around or soon after A.D. 1000.
Thus, within a modest time span, enormously
diverse island environments were settled by colonists all of whom
stemmed from the same founding population. The ultimate ancestors
of all modern Polynesian populations shared essentially the same
culture, language, technology, and set of domesticated plants and
animals. Hence Polynesian history constitutes a natural experiment
allowing us to study human adaptation, devoid of the usual
complications of multiple waves of disparate colonists that often
frustrate our attempts to understand adaptation elsewhere in the
world.
Within that medium-sized test, the fate of the
Moriori forms a smaller test. It is easy to trace how the differing
environments of the Chatham Islands and of New Zealand molded the
Moriori and the Maori differently. While those ancestral Maori who
first colonized the Chathams may have been farmers, Maori tropical
crops could not grow in the Chathams’ cold climate, and the
colonists had no alternative except to revert to being
hunter-gatherers. Since as hunter-gatherers they did not produce
crop surpluses available for redistribution or storage, they could
not support and feed nonhunting craft specialists, armies,
bureaucrats, and chiefs. Their prey were seals, shellfish, nesting
seabirds, and fish that could be captured by hand or with clubs and
required no more elaborate technology. In addition, the Chathams
are relatively small and remote islands, capable of supporting a
total population of only about 2,000 hunter-gatherers. With no
other accessible islands to colonize, the Moriori had to remain in
the Chathams, and to learn how to get along with each other. They
did so by renouncing war, and they reduced potential conflicts from
overpopulation by castrating some male infants. The result was a
small, unwarlike population with simple technology and weapons, and
without strong leadership or organization.
In contrast, the northern (warmer) part of New
Zealand, by far the largest island group in Polynesia, was suitable
for Polynesian agriculture. Those Maori who remained in New Zealand
increased in numbers until there were more than 100,000 of them.
They developed locally dense populations chronically engaged in
ferocious wars with neighboring populations. With the crop
surpluses that they could grow and store, they fed craft
specialists, chiefs, and part-time soldiers. They needed and
developed varied tools for growing their crops, fighting, and
making art. They erected elaborate ceremonial buildings and
prodigious numbers of forts.
Thus, Moriori and Maori societies developed
from the same ancestral society, but along very different lines.
The resulting two societies lost awareness even of each other’s
existence and did not come into contact again for many centuries,
perhaps for as long as 500 years. Finally, an Australian
seal-hunting ship visiting the Chathams en route to New Zealand
brought the news to New Zealand of islands where “there is an
abundance of sea and shellfish; the lakes swarm with eels; and it
is a land of the karaka berry…. The inhabitants are very numerous,
but they do not understand how to fight, and have no weapons.” That
news was enough to induce 900 Maori to sail to the Chathams. The
outcome clearly illustrates how environments can affect economy,
technology, political organization, and fighting skills within a
short time.
AS I ALREADY mentioned, the Maori-Moriori
collision represents a small test within a medium-sized test. What
can we learn from all of Polynesia about environmental influences
on human societies? What differences among societies on different
Polynesian islands need to be explained?
Polynesia as a whole presented a much wider
range of environmental conditions than did just New Zealand and the
Chathams, although the latter define one extreme (the simple end)
of Polynesian organization. In their subsistence modes, Polynesians
ranged from the hunter-gatherers of the Chathams, through
slash-and-burn farmers, to practitioners of intensive food
production living at some of the highest population densities of
any human societies. Polynesian food producers variously
intensified production of pigs, dogs, and chickens. They organized
work forces to construct large irrigation systems for agriculture
and to enclose large ponds for fish production. The economic basis
of Polynesian societies consisted of more or less self-sufficient
households, but some islands also supported guilds of hereditary
part-time craft specialists. In social organization, Polynesian
societies ran the gamut from fairly egalitarian village societies
to some of the most stratified societies in the world, with many
hierarchically ranked lineages and with chief and commoner classes
whose members married within their own class. In political
organization, Polynesian islands ranged from landscapes divided
into independent tribal or village units, up to multi-island
proto-empires that devoted standing military establishments to
invasions of other islands and wars of conquest. Finally,
Polynesian material culture varied from the production of no more
than personal utensils to the construction of monumental stone
architecture. How can all that variation be explained?
Contributing to these differences among
Polynesian societies were at least six sets of environmental
variables among Polynesian islands: island climate, geological
type, marine resources, area, terrain fragmentation, and isolation.
Let’s examine the ranges of these factors, before considering their
specific consequences for Polynesian societies.
The climate in Polynesia varies from warm
tropical or subtropical on most islands, which lie near the
equator, to temperate on most of New Zealand, and cold subantarctic
on the Chathams and the southern part of New Zealand’s South
Island. Hawaii’s Big Island, though lying well within the Tropic of
Cancer, has mountains high enough to support alpine habitats and
receive occasional snowfalls. Rainfall varies from the highest
recorded on Earth (in New Zealand’s Fjordland and Hawaii’s Alakai
Swamp on Kauai) to only one-tenth as much on islands so dry that
they are marginal for agriculture.
Island geological types include coral atolls,
raised limestone, volcanic islands, pieces of continents, and
mixtures of those types. At one extreme, innumerable islets, such
as those of the Tuamotu Archipelago, are flat, low atolls barely
rising above sea level. Other former atolls, such as Henderson and
Rennell, have been lifted far above sea level to constitute raised
limestone islands. Both of those atoll types present problems to
human settlers, because they consist entirely of limestone without
other stones, have only very thin soil, and lack permanent fresh
water. At the opposite extreme, the largest Polynesian island, New
Zealand, is an old, geologically diverse, continental fragment of
Gondwanaland, offering a range of mineral resources, including
commercially exploitable iron, coal, gold, and jade. Most other
large Polynesian islands are volcanoes that rose from the sea, have
never formed parts of a continent, and may or may not include areas
of raised limestone. While lacking New Zealand’s geological
richness, the oceanic volcanic islands at least are an improvement
over atolls (from the Polynesians’ perspective) in that they offer
diverse types of volcanic stones, some of which are highly suitable
for making stone tools.
The volcanic islands differ among themselves.
The elevations of the higher ones generate rain in the mountains,
so the islands are heavily weathered and have deep soils and
permanent streams. That is true, for instance, of the Societies,
Samoa, the Marquesas, and especially Hawaii, the Polynesian
archipelago with the highest mountains. Among the lower islands,
Tonga and (to a lesser extent) Easter also have rich soil because
of volcanic ashfalls, but they lack Hawaii’s large streams.
As for marine resources, most Polynesian
islands are surrounded by shallow water and reefs, and many also
encompass lagoons. Those environments teem with fish and shellfish.
However, the rocky coasts of Easter, Pitcairn, and the Marquesas,
and the steeply dropping ocean bottom and absence of coral reefs
around those islands, are much less productive of seafood.
Area is another obvious variable, ranging from
the 100 acres of Anuta, the smallest permanently inhabited isolated
Polynesian island, up to the 103,000 square miles of the
minicontinent of New Zealand. The habitable terrain of some
islands, notably the Marquesas, is fragmented into steep-walled
valleys by ridges, while other islands, such as Tonga and Easter,
consist of gently rolling terrain presenting no obstacles to travel
and communication.
The last environmental variable to consider is
isolation. Easter Island and the Chathams are small and so remote
from other islands that, once they were initially colonized, the
societies thus founded developed in total isolation from the rest
of the world. New Zealand, Hawaii, and the Marquesas are also very
remote, but at least the latter two apparently did have some
further contact with other archipelagoes after the first
colonization, and all three consist of many islands close enough to
each other for regular contact between islands of the same
archipelago. Most other Polynesian islands were in more or less
regular contact with other islands. In particular, the Tongan
Archipelago lies close enough to the Fijian, Samoan, and Wallis
Archipelagoes to have permitted regular voyaging between
archipelagoes, and eventually to permit Tongans to undertake the
conquest of Fiji.
AFTER THAT BRIEF look at Polynesia’s varying
environments, let’s now see how that variation influenced
Polynesian societies. Subsistence is a convenient facet of society
with which to start, since it in turn affected other facets.
Polynesian subsistence depended on varying
mixes of fishing, gathering wild plants and marine shellfish and
Crustacea, hunting terrestrial birds and breeding seabirds, and
food production. Most Polynesian islands originally supported big
flightless birds that had evolved in the absence of predators, New
Zealand’s moas and Hawaii’s flightless geese being the best-known
examples. While those birds were important food sources for the
initial colonists, especially on New Zealand’s South Island, most
of them were soon exterminated on all islands, because they were
easy to hunt down. Breeding seabirds were also quickly reduced in
number but continued to be important food sources on some islands.
Marine resources were significant on most islands but least so on
Easter, Pitcairn, and the Marquesas, where people as a result were
especially dependent on food that they themselves produced.
Ancestral Polynesians brought with them three
domesticated animals (the pig, chicken, and dog) and domesticated
no other animals within Polynesia. Many islands retained all three
of those species, but the more isolated Polynesian islands lacked
one or more of them, either because livestock brought in canoes
failed to survive the colonists’ long overwater journey or because
livestock that died out could not be readily obtained again from
the outside. For instance, isolated New Zealand ended up with only
dogs; Easter and Tikopia, with only chickens. Without access to
coral reefs or productive shallow waters, and with their
terrestrial birds quickly exterminated, Easter Islanders turned to
constructing chicken houses for intensive poultry farming.
At best, however, these three domesticated
animal species provided only occasional meals. Polynesian food
production depended mainly on agriculture, which was impossible at
subantarctic latitudes because all Polynesian crops were tropical
ones initially domesticated outside Polynesia and brought in by
colonists. The settlers of the Chathams and the cold southern part
of New Zealand’s South Island were thus forced to abandon the
farming legacy developed by their ancestors over the previous
thousands of years, and to become hunter-gatherers again.
People on the remaining Polynesian islands did
practice agriculture based on dryland crops (especially taro, yams,
and sweet potatoes), irrigated crops (mainly taro), and tree crops
(such as breadfruit, bananas, and coconuts). The productivity and
relative importance of those crop types varied considerably on
different islands, depending on their environments. Human
population densities were lowest on Henderson, Rennell, and the
atolls because of their poor soil and limited fresh water.
Densities were also low on temperate New Zealand, which was too
cool for some Polynesian crops. Polynesians on these and some other
islands practiced a nonintensive type of shifting, slash-and-burn
agriculture.
Other islands had rich soils but were not high
enough to have large permanent streams and hence irrigation.
Inhabitants of those islands developed intensive dryland
agriculture requiring a heavy input of labor to build terraces,
carry out mulching, rotate crops, reduce or eliminate fallow
periods, and maintain tree plantations. Dryland agriculture became
especially productive on Easter, tiny Anuta, and flat and low
Tonga, where Polynesians devoted most of the land area to the
growing of food.
The most productive Polynesian agriculture was
taro cultivation in irrigated fields. Among the more populous
tropical islands, that option was ruled out for Tonga by its low
elevation and hence its lack of rivers. Irrigation agriculture
reached its peak on the westernmost Hawaiian islands of Kauai,
Oahu, and Molokai, which were big and wet enough to support not
only large permanent streams but also large human populations
available for construction projects. Hawaiian labor corvées built
elaborate irrigation systems for taro fields yielding up to 24 tons
per acre, the highest crop yields in all of Polynesia. Those yields
in turn supported intensive pig production. Hawaii was also unique
within Polynesia in using mass labor for aquaculture, by
constructing large fishponds in which milkfish and mullet were
grown.
AS A RESULT of all this environmentally
related variation in subsistence, human population densities
(measured in people per square mile of arable land) varied greatly
over Polynesia. At the lower end were the hunter-gatherers of the
Chathams (only 5 people per square mile) and of New Zealand’s South
Island, and the farmers of the rest of New Zealand (28 people per
square mile). In contrast, many islands with intensive agriculture
attained population densities exceeding 120 per square mile. Tonga,
Samoa, and the Societies achieved 210–250 people per square mile
and Hawaii 300. The upper extreme of 1,100 people per square mile
was reached on the high island of Anuta, whose population converted
essentially all the land to intensive food production, thereby
crammed 160 people into the island’s 100 acres, and joined the
ranks of the densest self-sufficient populations in the world.
Anuta’s population density exceeded that of modern Holland and even
rivaled that of Bangladesh.
Population size is the product of population
density (people per square mile) and area (square miles). The
relevant area is not the area of an island but that of a political
unit, which could be either larger or smaller than a single island.
On the one hand, islands near one another might become combined
into a single political unit. On the other hand, single large
rugged islands were divided into many independent political units.
Hence the area of the political unit varied not only with an
island’s area but also with its fragmentation and isolation.
For small isolated islands without strong
barriers to internal communication, the entire island constituted
the political unit—as in the case of Anuta, with its 160 people.
Many larger islands never did become unified politically, whether
because the population consisted of dispersed bands of only a few
dozen hunter-gatherers each (the Chathams and New Zealand’s
southern South Island), or of farmers scattered over large
distances (the rest of New Zealand), or of farmers living in dense
populations but in rugged terrain precluding political unification.
For example, people in neighboring steep-sided valleys of the
Marquesas communicated with each other mainly by sea; each valley
formed an independent political entity of a few thousand
inhabitants, and most individual large Marquesan islands remained
divided into many such entities.
The terrains of the Tongan, Samoan, Society,
and Hawaiian islands did permit political unification within
islands, yielding political units of 10,000 people or more (over
30,000 on the large Hawaiian islands). The distances between
islands of the Tongan archipelago, as well as the distances between
Tonga and neighboring archipelagoes, were sufficiently modest that
a multi-island empire encompassing 40,000 people was eventually
established. Thus, Polynesian political units ranged in size from a
few dozen to 40,000 people.
A political unit’s population size interacted
with its population density to influence Polynesian technology and
economic, social, and political organization. In general, the
larger the size and the higher the density, the more complex and
specialized were the technology and organization, for reasons that
we shall examine in detail in later chapters. Briefly, at high
population densities only a portion of the people came to be
farmers, but they were mobilized to devote themselves to intensive
food production, thereby yielding surpluses to feed nonproducers.
The nonproducers mobilizing them included chiefs, priests,
bureaucrats, and warriors. The biggest political units could
assemble large labor forces to construct irrigation systems and
fishponds that intensified food production even further. These
developments were especially apparent on Tonga, Samoa, and the
Societies, all of which were fertile, densely populated, and
moderately large by Polynesian standards. The trends reached their
zenith on the Hawaiian Archipelago, consisting of the largest
tropical Polynesian islands, where high population densities and
large land areas meant that very large labor forces were
potentially available to individual chiefs.
The variations among Polynesian societies
associated with different population densities and sizes were as
follows. Economies remained simplest on islands with low population
densities (such as the hunter-gatherers of the Chathams), low
population numbers (small atolls), or both low densities and low
numbers. In those societies each household made what it needed;
there was little or no economic specialization. Specialization
increased on larger, more densely populated islands, reaching a
peak on Samoa, the Societies, and especially Tonga and Hawaii. The
latter two islands supported hereditary part-time craft
specialists, including canoe builders, navigators, stone masons,
bird catchers, and tattooers.
Social complexity was similarly varied. Again,
the Chathams and the atolls had the simplest, most egalitarian
societies. While those islands retained the original Polynesian
tradition of having chiefs, their chiefs wore little or no visible
signs of distinction, lived in ordinary huts like those of
commoners, and grew or caught their food like everyone else. Social
distinctions and chiefly powers increased on high-density islands
with large political units, being especially marked on Tonga and
the Societies.
Social complexity again reached its peak in the
Hawaiian Archipelago, where people of chiefly descent were divided
into eight hierarchically ranked lineages. Members of those chiefly
lineages did not intermarry with commoners but only with each
other, sometimes even with siblings or half-siblings. Commoners had
to prostrate themselves before high-ranking chiefs. All the members
of chiefly lineages, bureaucrats, and some craft specialists were
freed from the work of food production.
Political organization followed the same
trends. On the Chathams and atolls, the chiefs had few resources to
command, decisions were reached by general discussion, and
landownership rested with the community as a whole rather than with
the chiefs. Larger, more densely populated political units
concentrated more authority with the chiefs. Political complexity
was greatest on Tonga and Hawaii, where the powers of hereditary
chiefs approximated those of kings elsewhere in the world, and
where land was controlled by the chiefs, not by the commoners.
Using appointed bureaucrats as agents, chiefs requisitioned food
from the commoners and also conscripted them to work on large
construction projects, whose form varied from island to island:
irrigation projects and fishponds on Hawaii, dance and feast
centers on the Marquesas, chiefs’ tombs on Tonga, and temples on
Hawaii, the Societies, and Easter.
At the time of Europeans’ arrival in the 18th
century, the Tongan chiefdom or state had already become an
inter-archipelagal empire. Because the Tongan Archipelago itself
was geographically close-knit and included several large islands
with unfragmented terrain, each island became unified under a
single chief; then the hereditary chiefs of the largest Tongan
island (Tongatapu) united the whole archipelago, and eventually
they conquered islands outside the archipelago up to 500 miles
distant. They engaged in regular long-distance trade with Fiji and
Samoa, established Tongan settlements in Fiji, and began to raid
and conquer parts of Fiji. The conquest and administration of this
maritime proto-empire were achieved by navies of large canoes, each
holding up to 150 men.
Like Tonga, Hawaii became a political entity
encompassing several populous islands, but one confined to a single
archipelago because of its extreme isolation. At the time of
Hawaii’s “discovery” by Europeans in 1778, political unification
had already taken place within each Hawaiian island, and some
political fusion between islands had begun. The four largest
islands—Big Island (Hawaii in the narrow sense), Maui, Oahu, and
Kauai—remained independent, controlling (or jockeying with each
other for control of) the smaller islands (Lanai, Molokai,
Kahoolawe, and Niihau). After the arrival of Europeans, the Big
Island’s King Kamehameha I rapidly proceeded with the consolidation
of the largest islands by purchasing European guns and ships to
invade and conquer first Maui and then Oahu. Kamehameha thereupon
prepared invasions of the last independent Hawaiian island, Kauai,
whose chief finally reached a negotiated settlement with him,
completing the archipelago’s unification.
The remaining type of variation among
Polynesian societies to be considered involves tools and other
aspects of material culture. The differing availability of raw
materials imposed an obvious constraint on material culture. At the
one extreme was Henderson Island, an old coral reef raised above
sea level and devoid of stone other than limestone. Its inhabitants
were reduced to fabricating adzes out of giant clamshells. At the
opposite extreme, the Maori on the minicontinent of New Zealand had
access to a wide range of raw materials and became especially noted
for their use of jade. Between those two extremes fell Polynesia’s
oceanic volcanic islands, which lacked granite, flint, and other
continental rocks but did at least have volcanic rocks, which
Polynesians worked into ground or polished stone adzes used to
clear land for farming.
As for the types of artifacts made, the Chatham
Islanders required little more than hand-held clubs and sticks to
kill seals, birds, and lobsters. Most other islanders produced a
diverse array of fishhooks, adzes, jewelry, and other objects. On
the atolls, as on the Chathams, those artifacts were small,
relatively simple, and individually produced and owned, while
architecture consisted of nothing more than simple huts. Large and
densely populated islands supported craft specialists who produced
a wide range of prestige goods for chiefs—such as the feather capes
reserved for Hawaiian chiefs and made of tens of thousands of bird
feathers.
The largest products of Polynesia were the
immense stone structures of a few islands—the famous giant statues
of Easter Island, the tombs of Tongan chiefs, the ceremonial
platforms of the Marquesas, and the temples of Hawaii and the
Societies. This monumental Polynesian architecture was obviously
evolving in the same direction as the pyramids of Egypt,
Mesopotamia, Mexico, and Peru. Naturally, Polynesia’s structures
are not on the scale of those pyramids, but that merely reflects
the fact that Egyptian pharaohs could draw conscript labor from a
much larger human population than could the chief of any Polynesian
island. Even so, the Easter Islanders managed to erect 30-ton stone
statues—no mean feat for an island with only 7,000 people, who had
no power source other than their own muscles.
THUS, POLYNESIAN ISLAND societies differed
greatly in their economic specialization, social complexity,
political organization, and material products, related to
differences in population size and density, related in turn to
differences in island area, fragmentation, and isolation and in
opportunities for subsistence and for intensifying food production.
All those differences among Polynesian societies developed, within
a relatively short time and modest fraction of the Earth’s surface,
as environmentally related variations on a single ancestral
society. Those categories of cultural differences within Polynesia
are essentially the same categories that emerged everywhere else in
the world.
Of course, the range of variation over the rest
of the globe is much greater than that within Polynesia. While
modern continental peoples included ones dependent on stone tools,
as were Polynesians, South America also spawned societies expert in
using precious metals, and Eurasians and Africans went on to
utilize iron. Those developments were precluded in Polynesia,
because no Polynesian island except New Zealand had significant
metal deposits. Eurasia had full-fledged empires before Polynesia
was even settled, and South America and Mesoamerica developed
empires later, whereas Polynesia produced just two proto-empires,
one of which (Hawaii) coalesced only after the arrival of
Europeans. Eurasia and Mesoamerica developed indigenous writing,
which failed to emerge in Polynesia, except perhaps on Easter
Island, whose mysterious script may however have postdated the
islanders’ contact with Europeans.
That is, Polynesia offers us a small slice, not
the full spectrum, of the world’s human social diversity. That
shouldn’t surprise us, since Polynesia provides only a small slice
of the world’s geographic diversity. In addition, since Polynesia
was colonized so late in human history, even the oldest Polynesian
societies had only 3,200 years in which to develop, as opposed to
at least 13,000 years for societies on even the last-colonized
continents (the Americas). Given a few more millennia, perhaps
Tonga and Hawaii would have reached the level of full-fledged
empires battling each other for control of the Pacific, with
indigenously developed writing to administer those empires, while
New Zealand’s Maori might have added copper and iron tools to their
repertoire of jade and other materials.
In short, Polynesia furnishes us with a
convincing example of environmentally related diversification of
human societies in operation. But we thereby learn only that it can
happen, because it happened in Polynesia. Did it also happen on the
continents? If so, what were the environmental differences
responsible for diversification on the continents, and what were
their consequences?