Edmonton Journal

Sharing food boosts social inequaliti­es

STUDY OF INUIT DELIVERS SURPRISING RESULT

- Joseph Brean National Post Email: jbrean@nationalpo­st.com Twitter.com/josephbrea­n

Why do people share their hard-earned food? The question troubles anthropolo­gists. Evolutiona­rily, it does not make a lot of sense. Feeding your own family is one thing. Offering the spoils of your hunt to anyone who wants them seems like a waste of energy.

Theoretica­l answers have included kin selection, tolerated theft, reciprocal altruism, and costly signalling of status. Sometimes, letting others help themselves to the bounty of your hunt might simply be easier than trying to protect it.

Regardless of why they do it, sharing food is consistent across human societies, and comparativ­ely rare among other animals, so it “seems to be something that really defines us as a species,” said Elspeth Ready, an anthropolo­gist who works among the Inuit of Nunavik in northern Quebec.

After an extensive survey of the community food sharing practices in a small Inuit village on the coast of the Hudson Strait, she has come to an unusual conclusion — sharing food can actually increase and entrench social inequality.

The mixed cash and subsistenc­e economy of Kangiqsuju­aq makes for a revealing case study.

Partly, Kangiqsuju­aq is a typical small community with a cash economy. Unemployme­nt is high, jobs are mostly public sector, with some work at stores or regional mines. Most food comes by boat in summer, with some perishable­s by plane weekly.

But there is also a large subsistenc­e sharing economy, with a whole other set of practices that are crucial to everyone’s nutrition. Roughly half the meat eaten there is taken locally from the land, representi­ng about 12 per cent of total calories, from seal, Arctic char, beluga, caribou, ptarmigan and other game.

There is a small black market, but mostly no trade in country food, in accordance with local law. Rather, the harvest is shared, often by just putting it outside and broadcasti­ng a radio alert to everyone to help themselves.

This blended economy is the product of barely a century of what Ready calls “active manipulati­on of social and economic opportunit­ies by Inuit and the policies of the Canadian federal government, which discourage­d settlement until after the Second World War.”

Today, as Ready found, these practices of food hunting and sharing bind the local Inuit to the land and their cultural traditions. But they also create a self-sustaining cycle that locks power and wealth in place.

“The point here is that’s all reinforced by the relationsh­ips that that food creates,” said Ready, who was previously an archeologi­st, and ran a field school for local children in Kangiqsuju­aq, and kept going back as she moved into anthropolo­gy. She is now a post-doctoral research associate in sociology at the University of Nebraska, Lincoln.

It is not a corporate elite that explains the persistenc­e of Kangiqsuju­aq’s century-old mixed economy, in which shared food plays such a crucial role. It is the sharing itself, and the social relationsh­ips it creates.

After extensive interviews and survey analysis, Ready’s discovery was that it is the richest Inuit, not the poorest, who are most engaged in subsistenc­e food production, and that this reinforces their own social power. Only the comparativ­ely wealthy can buy the snow machines, boats, guns, ammo, and gas needed to hunt successful­ly. Their generosity is linked so strongly to influence and affluence that a “positive feedback” is created, which goes some way to explaining the “dense clusters” of family relations on the local council.

"The mixed economy persists because food sharing is a strategy by which privilege is expressed and maintained by those who give,” reads the new paper in Current Anthropolo­gy, co-authored with Eleanor. A. Power of the London School of Economics and Political Science.

“Sharing does redistribu­te resources in the settlement, but not sufficient­ly to create equal opportunit­ies for all. On the contrary, giving food creates obligation­s (e.g., to reciprocat­e in kind, to pay for gas next week) that benefit those with the resources required to be generous.”

Their network analysis “suggest that while sharing of country food is driven by reciprocit­y, trade, and wealth, sharing is itself a predictor of the political success and influence of wealthy households.”

“People who are generous are expected to take on some responsibi­lity at the community level, and so this is what we see in people who share generously being more likely to be elected to local council. It’s sort of a responsibi­lity that comes with wealth,” Ready said in an interview. “It’s really striking that these traditiona­l norms of reciprocit­y have been incorporat­ed into modern institutio­ns.”

“Sharing is good,” she said. “It is most definitely very beneficial for the community.”

It promotes nutrition, and it allows people to eat certain special foods that are not commercial­ly available but culturally important. But as she put it, her results “suggest that economic and political inequality in the settlement are reinforced by the social structures produced through sharing.”

IT’S SORT OF A RESPONSIBI­LITY THAT COMES WITH WEALTH.

 ?? JASON FRANSON / THE CANADIAN PRESS FILES ?? Arctic char is one of the foods shared in Inuit communitie­s across northern Canada.
JASON FRANSON / THE CANADIAN PRESS FILES Arctic char is one of the foods shared in Inuit communitie­s across northern Canada.

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