So this is uh, not a book on Stone Age economics. For the most part anyway. What it is though, is a gauntlet thrown down at the feet of contemporary economics. An effort, among other things, to dislodge its - at this point - utterly obstinate and totally ahistorical vision of the human, one whose basic behavior is everywhere the same, across time, space, and context (i.e. efficiency maximizing, rationally calculating beings). It's tempting to say 'yet another' gauntlet, were it not for the fact that this series of essays was published in '72, long before it was cool to point out just how much of a sham the basic tenets of 'classical' economics are. To the degree then, that it's 'contemporary' economics that remains the target here, that speaks less to the datedness of Sahlins' book than the intransigence of that ridiculous economic ideology, making this book all the more relevant today.
Yet if not Stone Age economics then what exactly? Largely - non-market economics, both of the present-day and of the paleolithic past. Economic behavior beyond the ken of markets: production among households for the sake of happy subsistence; sharing among tribe fellows, all the better for social leveling; gift-giving among clans, for the forging of deeply rooted bonds. Generosity and reciprocity, the anthropologist's stock-in-trade. If much of this sounds suspiciously idyllic, that's indeed part of the point. For among the orthodoxies challenged here is just the idea that those without 'market access' live lives "poor, nasty, brutish, and short". Most especially not 'poor', the adjective most shrilly flung about by those who champion "the market" as the single bulwark standing between us and utter impoverishment. Against this does Sahlins hold up - and demonstrate - nothing less than the affluence of 'primitive man' (and woman!), who, wanting for little, spent a great deal of time loafing about and dwelling in plenty.
It's not that Sahlins is (I don't think) any kind of primitivist, pining for the good 'ol days of foraging and fishing. But what's most certainly at stake here is the re-ignition of possibility in the present by recourse to the past (although not only the past). Which explains, I think, the otherwise curious scantiness of Stone Age economics in Stone Age Economics: we read instead of circuits of exchange among turn of the century Melenesian tribes; Maori proverbs, as related by Sahlins' fieldwork colleagues; the sleeping habits of Arnhem Land hunters, collected long after Australian colonial settlement. But the point, I imagine, is this: these 'affluent societies', long thought to be exactly the opposite and consigned to a pre-history before the advent of market society, are with us now, here, in the present. Not a stage to be leapt over in the pursuit of an ever more pristine modernity, but a set of living examples of a world configured otherwise.
More forceful still is the insistence that these are all, indeed, economies. Economies organized along lines other than that of an ever-threatening scarcity and ever-acquisitive accumulation; by way of distinctions of physical distance (I'll share with my family, but not that that bloke from the other island); of internal hierarchies where the most powerful are the most generous on pain loss of position (let's be primitivists like that); of distinctions among types of goods (we'll trade stuff, but not food - food, too precious, gets shared). Distinctions and differences erased by the homogenizing force of capital in which every commodity is just that - a commodity: capitalism's 'flat ontology'. If today, we're quick to learn that the personal is the political, Sahlins' lesson, still to be digested, is that the economic is the social, no less than the cultural. And that, we can work with. That we can change. We know, because Sahlins documented it.