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Wayfinding
In this compelling narrative, O’Connor seeks out neuroscientists, anthropologists and master navigators to understand how navigation ultimately gave us our humanity. Biologists have been trying to solve the mystery of how organisms have the ability to migrate and orient with such precision—especially since our own adventurous ancestors spread across the world without maps or instruments. O’Connor goes to the Arctic, the Australian bush and the South Pacific to talk to masters of their environment who seek to preserve their traditions at a time when anyone can use a GPS to navigate.
O’Connor explores the neurological basis of spatial orientation within the hippocampus. Without it, people inhabit a dream state, becoming amnesiacs incapable of finding their way, recalling the past, or imagining the future. Studies have shown that the more we exercise our cognitive mapping skills, the greater the grey matter and health of our hippocampus. O’Connor talks to scientists studying how atrophy in the hippocampus is associated with afflictions such as impaired memory, dementia, Alzheimer’s Disease, depression and PTSD.
O’Connor explores the neurological basis of spatial orientation within the hippocampus. Without it, people inhabit a dream state, becoming amnesiacs incapable of finding their way, recalling the past, or imagining the future. Studies have shown that the more we exercise our cognitive mapping skills, the greater the grey matter and health of our hippocampus. O’Connor talks to scientists studying how atrophy in the hippocampus is associated with afflictions such as impaired memory, dementia, Alzheimer’s Disease, depression and PTSD.
- GenresScienceNatureNonfiction
368 pages, Kindle Edition
Published April 23, 2019
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Displaying 1 - 7 of 7 reviews
June 5, 2019
I suppose it is appropriate that this book 'travels', the writer's voice growing more assured and comfortable with different ideas as it progresses. Wayfinding - one of three books read in as many weeks about navigation (the others were Sea People: The Puzzle of Polynesia and Incredible Journeys: Exploring the Wonders of Animal Navigation) - starts with some expected-but-indefensible statements about human superiority that put me seriously offside, but ends with an excellent and respectful exploration of Indigenous navigation systems, a range of competing theories, and a whole lot of glorious complexity. The reasoning for the assumption of human excellence, O'Connor explains, is a ranking by how sophisticated and complex methods of navigation are. Humans, who frankly a middling bunch when it comes to navigational achievement (Fun act: blindfolded, even our best navigators will soon start walking in big, even circles when attempting to head straight), use learned techniques and built equipment to do what others can manage without. There's also an irritating bit of assumptions around the hippocampus.
The book starts to pick up steam when O'Connor ventures into Inuit country. At this point the structure settles in to alternating chapters dealing with the "fieldwork" experiences of talking to indigenous navigators from (respectively to the three sections of the book) Inui;, Arrente, Wardaman and other Aboriginal; and Hawaiian communities - with chapters looking at research topics. The chapters in which O'Connor deepens her understanding of how people are moving through landscape were more compelling to me - and at times out of step with - the alternating chapters in which O'Connor is often wrestling with a myriad of theories, topics and takes. O'Connor is better at depth than breadth, and it is in the deep dives that the book shines. Her tendency to deep dive into particular theories can, in fact, be artificially narrowing in the first part of the book. Issues such as the limitation of controlled animal experiments (vs natural observation), and the nature of brain plasticity need more articulation than they get to understand the tentative nature of much of the science.
However, as the narrative progresses and theories start to contradict each other, the diversity in approaches builds a sense of complexity and allows for exploratory thought. So after rather a lot of material dealing with the importance of the hippocampus in managing space, we meet Howard Eichenbaum who challenges the whole narrative, bringing the dimension of time into the picture. This topic has fascinated me ever since I realised how non-universal our sense of time is, and how our experience of time is a created state. From here, we move into the work of anthropologist Thomas Widlock who raises just how much of the "heart of cognition" is culture, something we create as we move forward.
From here, the book starts to become a unified experience, as the whirl of ideas from both strands of the book starts to coalesce with the experiences in Australia's deserts, learning about cultures in which Country and Person are inseparable. O'Connor's discovery of a landscape "unlike anything I had seen before" and she struggles to understand the intricacies of art which connect both allocentric and egocentric perspectives, map and spirit, meaning and location. There is a flirtation with linguistic theories, generated by John Haviland's writing based on Guugu Yimithirr informants.
Based on all this, the sections on Pasifika peoples navigation were briefer than I had hoped, especially given that Carolinian navigators use systems of navigation which are more egocentric than allocentric, and yet are not dead reckoning - directly challenging the dichotomies set up in the early part of the book about how navigation systems are classified. While this is not directly covered, O'Connor turns to discuss the very real threats to our cognition, not to mention the world we need to move through. This leads to the GPS-warning basis for modern tech - that as we get more dependent on technology, we let (literally) some of our synapses wither, creating people who may not be able to move through the world without the tech. I am always a little wary of these takes - humans are nothing if not adaptable, and arguably our navigational capacity has been declining since we started following roads. But I am worried about the changes we are making to our world. I was fortunate enough to be on Arrente country, well out of any town, recently and saw the Milky Way properly for what may have been the first time in my life. A faint glow on the edge of the horizon obscured a patch of sky - the light from Alice Springs, a town of 30,000 people. Light pollution is robbing us of the stars.
Perhaps the biggest success of this book is that it also makes navigation seem so enjoyable. As someone who loathes it usually, due to my tendency to get very lost and have to walk further than I want to, I found myself inspired to take small steps, pay attention to the wind and angle of the light, and visualise how the pieces might fit together. It certainly inculcates a longing for the kind of home we often deny ourselves - one that includes trees, rocks and familiar landscape, not just a small, walled and private space.
The book starts to pick up steam when O'Connor ventures into Inuit country. At this point the structure settles in to alternating chapters dealing with the "fieldwork" experiences of talking to indigenous navigators from (respectively to the three sections of the book) Inui;, Arrente, Wardaman and other Aboriginal; and Hawaiian communities - with chapters looking at research topics. The chapters in which O'Connor deepens her understanding of how people are moving through landscape were more compelling to me - and at times out of step with - the alternating chapters in which O'Connor is often wrestling with a myriad of theories, topics and takes. O'Connor is better at depth than breadth, and it is in the deep dives that the book shines. Her tendency to deep dive into particular theories can, in fact, be artificially narrowing in the first part of the book. Issues such as the limitation of controlled animal experiments (vs natural observation), and the nature of brain plasticity need more articulation than they get to understand the tentative nature of much of the science.
However, as the narrative progresses and theories start to contradict each other, the diversity in approaches builds a sense of complexity and allows for exploratory thought. So after rather a lot of material dealing with the importance of the hippocampus in managing space, we meet Howard Eichenbaum who challenges the whole narrative, bringing the dimension of time into the picture. This topic has fascinated me ever since I realised how non-universal our sense of time is, and how our experience of time is a created state. From here, we move into the work of anthropologist Thomas Widlock who raises just how much of the "heart of cognition" is culture, something we create as we move forward.
From here, the book starts to become a unified experience, as the whirl of ideas from both strands of the book starts to coalesce with the experiences in Australia's deserts, learning about cultures in which Country and Person are inseparable. O'Connor's discovery of a landscape "unlike anything I had seen before" and she struggles to understand the intricacies of art which connect both allocentric and egocentric perspectives, map and spirit, meaning and location. There is a flirtation with linguistic theories, generated by John Haviland's writing based on Guugu Yimithirr informants.
Based on all this, the sections on Pasifika peoples navigation were briefer than I had hoped, especially given that Carolinian navigators use systems of navigation which are more egocentric than allocentric, and yet are not dead reckoning - directly challenging the dichotomies set up in the early part of the book about how navigation systems are classified. While this is not directly covered, O'Connor turns to discuss the very real threats to our cognition, not to mention the world we need to move through. This leads to the GPS-warning basis for modern tech - that as we get more dependent on technology, we let (literally) some of our synapses wither, creating people who may not be able to move through the world without the tech. I am always a little wary of these takes - humans are nothing if not adaptable, and arguably our navigational capacity has been declining since we started following roads. But I am worried about the changes we are making to our world. I was fortunate enough to be on Arrente country, well out of any town, recently and saw the Milky Way properly for what may have been the first time in my life. A faint glow on the edge of the horizon obscured a patch of sky - the light from Alice Springs, a town of 30,000 people. Light pollution is robbing us of the stars.
Perhaps the biggest success of this book is that it also makes navigation seem so enjoyable. As someone who loathes it usually, due to my tendency to get very lost and have to walk further than I want to, I found myself inspired to take small steps, pay attention to the wind and angle of the light, and visualise how the pieces might fit together. It certainly inculcates a longing for the kind of home we often deny ourselves - one that includes trees, rocks and familiar landscape, not just a small, walled and private space.
July 10, 2019
We are all born with intellectual gifts--and capacities. In a way, this is a book about how finding our way--geographically--is one of the most critical means humans have for developing their intellectual gifts. And, on the other hand, this is a book about how contemporary means of finding our way (Google Maps, Teslas, and Waze) or not finding our way ("no" says mom, "you can't explore the neighbourhood or park or ride your bike six kilometres to the ocean") undermine human potential. All educators, parents, and anyone who cares about other cultures than just their own need to read this book. It is riveting, important, current, and masterful.
July 25, 2019
Far more detail than I ever wanted or expected. Somewhat redundant at times as the author explores the wayfinding skills of native people in the Arctic, Australia, and Oceania.
May 17, 2020
Fascinating, well-researched and valuable. The science and art of wayfinding (navigation) is thoroughly covered in this book. Not designed to be a "how-to" book exactly, but it extensively covers indigenous navigation techniques in indigenous cultures in the desert, tundra, and open ocean. Also a very good section on how wayfinding affects the brain compared to following turn-by-turn instructions on a navigation app.
January 2, 2020
Very cool exploration of the linkages between memory and geospatial awareness in the human brain. O'Connor examines three traditional cultures around the world (Eskimos/Inuits, Polynesians, and Aboriginal Australians), focusing on how they navigate and interact with their environment without the use of modern technology.
December 27, 2020
I enjoyed the facts and information overall in the book but found the meandering way this was delivered slow paced. Felt like didn’t have a cohesive thread at times binding it altogether. Unsure if it’s a book about nature of psychology or navigation or all three.
March 29, 2020
"Wayfinding: The Science and Mystery of How Humans Navigste the World" by M.R. O'Connor is a must read for anyone interested in Geography or our connection to our environment. Also recommended reading for anyone looking to develop Artificial Intelligence for understanding our world. How "traditional" cultures navigate could likely provide insights and open new avenues of approach that our "modern" X, Y, Z, pixels, data, and imagery models could never discover.
Displaying 1 - 7 of 7 reviews