Rating: 
Summary: The ape lit up his pipe, sat down, and said...
Review: A joke that begins like this is typical of crude and simplistic anthropomorphism and is illustrative of why scientists are so scared of being called anthropomorphic. The consequence of such a label is usually a joke at the their expense: "Have you heard the one about the scientist who walks into a store with a parrot on his shoulder?" Franz De Waal is neither a subscriber to "joke-a-day" nor to such base forms of anthropomorphism. He starts out by mentioning that for most scientists, interest in their field began with a love for nature. Such a closeness to animals "creates the desire to understand them, and not just a little piece of them, but the whole animal." In such a venture good scientists employ all available tools and consequently "anthropomorphism is not only inevitable, it is a powerful tool."De Waal is convincing, but on this point he need not be overwhelmingly so since most scientists have no problem distinguishing between childish and humorous anthropomorphism, and that which is useful in providing anecdotal observations on animal behavior. De Waal states that in the earliest days of ethology (the naturalistic study of animal behavior) and long before sociobiology argued the point, the very idea of any "continuity between human and animal behavior" was anathema to all. Things have changed and the dividing line between nature/nurture is no longer under attack, (to remain a target something must at least exist and that line is now so blurred as to be unidentifiable). De Waal has his sights set elsewhere and rips "a maximum number of holes in the nature/culture divide." He convincingly shows that not only do animals have a culture, but that it is robust, diversified, and learned through a process of imitation. De Waal shows that in Eastern cultures there is little resistance to the idea of animal culture. He spends some time looking at the work of Japanese primatologist Kinji Imanishi. The Japanese approach is another method of primatology and it gave De Waal the idea for his book's title. The APE AND THE SUSHI MASTER speaks to the similar teaching techniques used by mother apes and Sushi chefs. Apprentice cooks and young apes both learn through years of observation and imitation. Reading this book will give you insights into not only how we view animals and what the nature of culture is, but it also has something to say about how we view ourselves. The book is very well written and is aimed at a general reading audience. De Waal is thoughtful and offers his opinions in a non forceful manner. For a book that deals with such contentious subjects, it's refreshing that there is very little invective. Blind support for "selfish genes" is however justifiably criticized and De Waal shows that altruism and cooperation are equally as likely outcomes of natural selection. It's now time for us to emerge from "anthropodenial" about animal culture and "of being tied to how we are unlike any animal". Instead we are urged to adopt a more humanistic view - and concomitantly, a more humane view of animals - both grounded in science. We may then believe that "human identity [is] built around how we are animals that have taken certain capacities a significant step farther."
Rating:
Summary: The ape lit up his pipe, sat down, and said...
Review: A joke that begins like this is typical of crude and simplistic anthropomorphism and is illustrative of why scientists are so scared of being called anthropomorphic. The consequence of such a label is usually a joke at the their expense: "Have you heard the one about the scientist who walks into a store with a parrot on his shoulder?" Franz De Waal is neither a subscriber to "joke-a-day" nor to such base forms of anthropomorphism. He starts out by mentioning that for most scientists, interest in their field began with a love for nature. Such a closeness to animals "creates the desire to understand them, and not just a little piece of them, but the whole animal." In such a venture good scientists employ all available tools and consequently "anthropomorphism is not only inevitable, it is a powerful tool." De Waal is convincing, but on this point he need not be overwhelmingly so since most scientists have no problem distinguishing between childish and humorous anthropomorphism, and that which is useful in providing anecdotal observations on animal behavior. De Waal states that in the earliest days of ethology (the naturalistic study of animal behavior) and long before sociobiology argued the point, the very idea of any "continuity between human and animal behavior" was anathema to all. Things have changed and the dividing line between nature/nurture is no longer under attack, (to remain a target something must at least exist and that line is now so blurred as to be unidentifiable). De Waal has his sights set elsewhere and rips "a maximum number of holes in the nature/culture divide." He convincingly shows that not only do animals have a culture, but that it is robust, diversified, and learned through a process of imitation. De Waal shows that in Eastern cultures there is little resistance to the idea of animal culture. He spends some time looking at the work of Japanese primatologist Kinji Imanishi. The Japanese approach is another method of primatology and it gave De Waal the idea for his book's title. The APE AND THE SUSHI MASTER speaks to the similar teaching techniques used by mother apes and Sushi chefs. Apprentice cooks and young apes both learn through years of observation and imitation. Reading this book will give you insights into not only how we view animals and what the nature of culture is, but it also has something to say about how we view ourselves. The book is very well written and is aimed at a general reading audience. De Waal is thoughtful and offers his opinions in a non forceful manner. For a book that deals with such contentious subjects, it's refreshing that there is very little invective. Blind support for "selfish genes" is however justifiably criticized and De Waal shows that altruism and cooperation are equally as likely outcomes of natural selection. It's now time for us to emerge from "anthropodenial" about animal culture and "of being tied to how we are unlike any animal". Instead we are urged to adopt a more humanistic view - and concomitantly, a more humane view of animals - both grounded in science. We may then believe that "human identity [is] built around how we are animals that have taken certain capacities a significant step farther."
Rating:
Summary: go ahead and buy this book
Review: a quick entertaining read and an absolutely fascinating look at the natural basis of culture. if you're curious about this topic, and i assume you are if you're looking at this page, you'll get alot out of this book.
Rating: 
Summary: What is Culture?
Review: And do apes and other animals have it? For some reason I didn't find it too long a reach to say that apes and other animals have culture. How much of an organism's brain is hard-wired and how much allows for the flexibility of learning...learning such that you change your daily behavior, be it eating or mating or whatever. Sure, why not? Why can't animals observe each other and change their own behavior when they see something that works? I've never really looked at intelligence, let alone culture, as things that are discrete, parceled out in specific quantities "to each according to his need" to each species, but rather as more free flowing phenomena, with some chance for overlap between ourselves and our animal (and not just primate) brethren.
Rating:
Summary: a bright book from the brightest mind in primatology
Review: As anthropologist, I strongly recommend the reading of this book, especially for non-specialist. Easy to read, full of such interesting reflexions and historical fact. It is THE book to read for better understanding where human stand in the animal kingdom.
Rating:
Summary: An intelligent, learned and wise scientist/author.
Review: de Waal is intelligent, learned and wise. He is a reasonably competent writer. The ultimate objective of the book is to eliminate concepts of rigid duality: duality between humans and the rest of animals, duality between human nature and human culture. The substance of the book is an exploration of findings about animal culture (yes, animals are products of culture as well as genes), and the insights into ourselves these findings provide. A secondary strand is a historical review of competing ideas. I could have done with less emphasis on the secondary strand. Part of this relates to my own interest. Part relates to the fact that too often there is overkill: the sympathetic reader (dare I say intelligent and objective reader) is convinced by de Waal long before de Waal seems to expect him to be.
Rating:
Summary: An intelligent, learned and wise scientist/author.
Review: de Waal is intelligent, learned and wise. He is a reasonably competent writer. The ultimate objective of the book is to eliminate concepts of rigid duality: duality between humans and the rest of animals, duality between human nature and human culture. The substance of the book is an exploration of findings about animal culture (yes, animals are products of culture as well as genes), and the insights into ourselves these findings provide. A secondary strand is a historical review of competing ideas. I could have done with less emphasis on the secondary strand. Part of this relates to my own interest. Part relates to the fact that too often there is overkill: the sympathetic reader (dare I say intelligent and objective reader) is convinced by de Waal long before de Waal seems to expect him to be.
Rating:
Summary: Naked ape or God's special project?
Review: Everyone wants to be special. In big families, children vie for the place of momma's little boys or girls; in the army, every soldier carries a marshal's staff in his backpack. There is barely any nation (mature enough to identify itself as a nation) which successfully resisted, throughout its history, messianic ideas. The worst political nightmares of the last century arose from our burning desire to be special, and to prove so to all other untermenschen. But let's face it, we are not special. During the last decades, the civilization entered a phase when it can destroy itself - by military or industrial means. We proudly predict the end of the world. But the world has existed for billions of years before us, and will safely do without us. Even in the worst-case scenario of a nuclear Armageddon, cockroaches will survive. It will not be the end of the world. Just the end of us. Big deal. It's just one species. It seems to be pretty important to come to terms with being ordinary. To find a proper place for ourselves in the world. To stop misrepresenting ourselves. Once Copernicus shifted Earth from the central place in the universe, astronomy ceased to be a fairy tale, and eventually space travel became possible. Everybody won, in the long run. The first father of modern Western thought, Aristotle, seemed to be aware of this need. (Though I am always wary about interpretations of Aristotle in modern science books - his writings are not perfectly preserved and extremely cryptic, and blurred by twenty-five hundred years of interpretations.) The second father of modern Western thought, Descartes, did away with it, reinforcing the ideas of our special position, of God's special treatment of our species, and rejecting any continuity between (other) animals and ourselves. We are still struggling with the consequences. Darwin offered a bridge across this yawning gap, but old convictions die hard. We are still extremely uncomfortable with the idea of our connection with the rest of the living world. De Waal's book poses just one question: do animals have culture? To answer that, we need to define terms, of course. He defines culture as non-genetically transmitted information. And then he easily says - Yes, they do. Songbirds have dialects (roughly speaking, nightingales and rossignols do not sing the same tunes). Japanese monkeys in a certain colony on a certain island wash sweet potatoes in the sea. Chimpanzees of a certain colony use stone tools to crack coconuts open. They are not born this way. They learn it from each other and pass it down to the next generations. Just like us. We are not born with driving skills, for example. We cannot possibly be, such skills have been necessary for only about one hundred years, that's not even recognizable as evolutionary time. But we learn to drive, some better than others; and chimps learn to crack coconuts. There are human populations which do not need to drive, and they don't. There are chimp populations where coconuts do not grow, and they don't have these skills. Simple, isn't it. Simple. But consider the implications. All difference between the ape and the sushi master becomes quantitative. We find ourselves not on the pinnacle of God's creation, but rather in a link connected to the endless chain. We are forced to reconsider everything that we deem exclusively human. And the more we consider it, the weaker our case for uniqueness. Altruism? You can routinely train dogs to blow up enemy's tanks. There is no reward, no evolutionary need that justifies such actions. Language? We hardly know what language is; we do not know when, how or why it originated; we do not have bullet-proof ways to separate animals' communication means from ours. Art? Humans have lived for thousands of years without any trace of art; either our definition of "humans" is seriously flawed, or art is not crucial for our biological existence. And then again, there are ape painters, and they, argues De Waal, do it for their own pleasure. Social structures? There are animals with such sophisticated social life that our states and parties (both senses) seem a joke in comparison. It is not bad to be self-centered, it is bad to be self-absorbed. Once we understand our limitations, things will go more smoothly. It is good for us to know that there is no metaphysical divide between the ape and the sushi master. De Waal's book is patchy, and sometimes his story seems to be jumping from subject to subject without much effort to glue chapters together. The author's Dutch experience is very interesting for me, but I live in the Netherlands, so this opinion is strictly private. His forays into the history of the question and the lives of scientists who gave it its present form are educational and lucid. He is a scientist all right, but there is no trace of guild narrow-mindedness in what he writes. And he does not accompany his thoughts on probably the most important scientific, philosophical and human question of all times with pomp and circumstance. He treats it with a grain of salt, but with the earnestness it deserves. And the book reads smoothly. Thumbs up, on hands and feet alike.
Rating:
Summary: Arise, anthropomorphism!
Review: Frans de Waal has taken the lead position in the swelling ranks of researchers clarifying the picture of humanity's place in nature. Combining his own and others' study of the great apes, he presents us a vivid survey of primate behaviour. His roots and experience are combined in this fascinating account. His Dutch background, American academic position, and keen observing powers have led him to redefine our view of our primate relatives. His critical insights are matched by his prose skills in presenting them, making this informative work a pleasure to read. There is much to be learned from de Waal. He removes any remaining doubt that we are at one with our fellow creatures. De Waal challenges the dominant view among Western researchers that animal studies must be done from a detached view. He stresses the distinction between "anthropocentrism" and "anthropomorphism." The former sharply divides humans from the remainder of the animal kingdom, holding "culture" as a unique human artefact. The second, properly applied, enables us to view all the animal kingdom in a broader scale. De Waal cites the long history of Japanese primate research and more recent Western efforts as examples of the difference. The Eastern world integrates animals within its cultures while the Western view is humanity has been given "dominion" over them. In a practical sense, this outlook gave the Japanese a head start in primate research. They consider each individual in chimpanzee troops, where Westerners only perceive the group as an entity. As de Waal escorts us through the last half-century of primate research, he assess the contributions of each of the major figures in the field. Lorenz, Tinbergen, Desmond Morris from the West are contrasted with their Eastern counterparts. Of particular importance is Japan's Imanishi Kinji a towering figure in primatology, almost unknown here. Imanishi's outlook was a near refutation of Darwin's natural selection. Imanishi rejected the idea that animal behaviour is genetically driven and began the redefinition of "culture" based on his studies of primates. With "culture's" many restraints cast away, Japanese researchers could perceive behaviour little noted in the West. Some of de Waal's examples are breathtaking. Animal art occupies a chapter, dominated by examples of chimpanzee attitudes while they work. Dedicated attention, care in application and possessive attitudes lead to paintings equal to Pollock's and applauded by Picasso. Pigeons turn away from Schoenberg [and who can blame them] in favour of Bach. From the obverse angle, the number of human composers who have relied on birds and other animals for inspiration range from Mozart down. The message is clear: "culture" is an aspect of the entire animal kingdom. We are but a part of a universal condition. It's de Waal's message about animal learning that tumbles the final barricade between humans and their kin. The title of this book is derived from apprentice sushi chefs spending years merely observing a master until they can demonstrate their own abilities. In a similar manner, our ape cousins learn by watching and imitating. The young may be better at learning than the old. One community may develop new habits unseen elsewhere. Later practitioners may add improvements to style and technique. Learning, however, is not limited to "wise man." It's a trait that may be applied to any species with sufficient intellect and dexterity to demonstrate it. De Waal's presentation challenges the entire scholarship of thinking about evolution. He will not accept the "traditional" view of human uniqueness in culture or learning capacity. Nor does he accept the more recent "selfish gene" thesis of innate adaptation traits. His balanced view will force many to rethink their ideas to arrive at a new synthesis of human and animal behaviour patterns. The book is a clear assertion that much research remains to be undertaken in improving our understanding of where evolution has led us. A provocative, thought stimulating book, yet highly readable, makes this effort worthy of the accolades it has received.
Rating:
Summary: Arise, anthropomorphism!
Review: Frans de Waal has taken the lead position in the swelling ranks of researchers clarifying the picture of humanity's place in nature. Combining his own and others' study of the great apes, he presents us a vivid survey of primate behaviour. His roots and experience are combined in this fascinating account. His Dutch background, American academic position, and keen observing powers have led him to redefine our view of our primate relatives. His critical insights are matched by his prose skills in presenting them, making this informative work a pleasure to read. There is much to be learned from de Waal. He removes any remaining doubt that we are at one with our fellow creatures. De Waal challenges the dominant view among Western researchers that animal studies must be done from a detached view. He stresses the distinction between "anthropocentrism" and "anthropomorphism." The former sharply divides humans from the remainder of the animal kingdom, holding "culture" as a unique human artefact. The second, properly applied, enables us to view all the animal kingdom in a broader scale. De Waal cites the long history of Japanese primate research and more recent Western efforts as examples of the difference. The Eastern world integrates animals within its cultures while the Western view is humanity has been given "dominion" over them. In a practical sense, this outlook gave the Japanese a head start in primate research. They consider each individual in chimpanzee troops, where Westerners only perceive the group as an entity. As de Waal escorts us through the last half-century of primate research, he assess the contributions of each of the major figures in the field. Lorenz, Tinbergen, Desmond Morris from the West are contrasted with their Eastern counterparts. Of particular importance is Japan's Imanishi Kinji a towering figure in primatology, almost unknown here. Imanishi's outlook was a near refutation of Darwin's natural selection. Imanishi rejected the idea that animal behaviour is genetically driven and began the redefinition of "culture" based on his studies of primates. With "culture's" many restraints cast away, Japanese researchers could perceive behaviour little noted in the West. Some of de Waal's examples are breathtaking. Animal art occupies a chapter, dominated by examples of chimpanzee attitudes while they work. Dedicated attention, care in application and possessive attitudes lead to paintings equal to Pollock's and applauded by Picasso. Pigeons turn away from Schoenberg [and who can blame them] in favour of Bach. From the obverse angle, the number of human composers who have relied on birds and other animals for inspiration range from Mozart down. The message is clear: "culture" is an aspect of the entire animal kingdom. We are but a part of a universal condition. It's de Waal's message about animal learning that tumbles the final barricade between humans and their kin. The title of this book is derived from apprentice sushi chefs spending years merely observing a master until they can demonstrate their own abilities. In a similar manner, our ape cousins learn by watching and imitating. The young may be better at learning than the old. One community may develop new habits unseen elsewhere. Later practitioners may add improvements to style and technique. Learning, however, is not limited to "wise man." It's a trait that may be applied to any species with sufficient intellect and dexterity to demonstrate it. De Waal's presentation challenges the entire scholarship of thinking about evolution. He will not accept the "traditional" view of human uniqueness in culture or learning capacity. Nor does he accept the more recent "selfish gene" thesis of innate adaptation traits. His balanced view will force many to rethink their ideas to arrive at a new synthesis of human and animal behaviour patterns. The book is a clear assertion that much research remains to be undertaken in improving our understanding of where evolution has led us. A provocative, thought stimulating book, yet highly readable, makes this effort worthy of the accolades it has received.
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