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			4 - EDEN AS A METAPHOR: THE EVOLUTION OF MAN 
			 
			
				
					
					Then wilt thou not be loth  To leave this Paradise, but shalt possess A Paradise within thee, 
			happier far ...  They hand in hand with wandering steps and slow Through Eden took 
			their solitary way.  JOHN MILTON  
					Paradise Lost  
					  
					
					Why didst thou leave the trodden paths of men Too soon, and with 
			weak hands though mighty heart Dare the unpastured dragon in his 
			den? Defenseless as thou wert, oh, where was then Wisdom, the 
			mirrored shield . . . ?  PERCY BYSSHE SHELLEY  
					Adonais  
				 
			 
			
			 FOR THEIR surface area, insects weigh very little. A beetle, 
			falling from a high altitude, quickly achieves terminal velocity:
			air resistance prevents it from falling very fast, and, after 
			alighting on the ground, it will walk away, apparently none the 
			worse for the experience. The same is true of small 
			mammals-squirrels, say. A mouse can be dropped down a 
			thousand-foot mine shaft and, if the ground is soft, will arrive 
			dazed but essentially unhurt. In contrast, human beings are 
			characteristically maimed or killed by any fall of more than a 
			few dozen feet: because of our size, we weigh too much for our 
			surface area.  
			
			  
			
			 Therefore our arboreal ancestors had to pay attention. 
			Any error in brachiating from branch to branch could be fatal. Every 
			leap was an opportunity for evolution. Powerful selective forces 
			were at work to evolve organisms with grace and agility, accurate 
			binocular vision, versatile manipulative abilities, superb eye-hand 
			coordination, and an intuitive grasp of Newtonian gravitation. But 
			each of these skills required significant advances in the evolution 
			of the brains and particularly the neocortices of our ancestors. 
			Human intelligence is fundamentally indebted to the millions of 
			years our ancestors spent aloft in the trees.  
			
			  
			And after we returned to the savannahs and abandoned the 
			trees, did we long for those great graceful leaps and ecstatic 
			moments of weightlessness in the shafts of sunlight of the 
			forest roof? Is the startle reflex of human infants today to 
			prevent falling from the treetops? Are our nighttime dreams of 
			flying and our daytime passion for flight, as exemplified in the 
			lives of Leonardo da Vinci or Konstantin Tsiolkovskii, nostalgic
			reminiscences of those days gone by in the branches of the 
			high forest? *  
			
			  
			
			* Modern rocket technology and space exploration owes an 
			incalculable debt to Dr. Robert H. Goddard, who through many decades 
			of devoted and lonely research was single-handedly responsible for 
			the development of essentially all important aspects of the modern 
			rocket. Goddard’s interest in this subject originated in a magic 
			moment. In the New England autumn of 1899, Goddard was a 
			seventeen-year-old high school sophomore who had climbed a cherry 
			tree and, while idly looking down at the ground around him, 
			experienced a kind of epiphanal vision of a vehicle that would 
			transport human beings to the planet Mars. He resolved to devote 
			himself to the task. Exactly one year later, he climbed the tree 
			again, and on every October 19th for the rest of his life, made a 
			special point of recollecting that moment. Can it be an accident 
			that this vision of voyages to the planets, which has led directly 
			to its own historical fulfillment, was glimpsed in the limbs of a 
			tree?  
			
			  
			Other mammals, even other nonprimate and non-cetacean mammals, have 
			neocortices. But in the evolutionary line leading to man, when was 
			the first large-scale development of the neocortex? While none of 
			our simian ancestors are still around, this question can 
			nevertheless be answered or at least approached: we can examine 
			fossil skulls. In humans, in apes and monkeys, and in other mammals, 
			the brain volume almost fills the skull. This is not true, for 
			example, in fish. Thus by taking a cast of a skull, we can determine 
			what is called the endocranial volume of our immediate ancestors and 
			collateral relatives and can make some rough estimates of their 
			brain volumes.  
			
			  
			The question of who was and who was not an ancestor of man 
			is still being hotly debated by the paleontologists, and hardly a
			year goes by without the discovery of some fossil of 
			remarkably human aspect -much-older- than anyone had 
			previously thought possible. What seems certain is that about 
			five million years ago, there was an abundance of apelike animals, 
			the gracile Australopithecines, who walked on two feet and had brain 
			volumes of about 500 cubic centimeters, some 100 cc more than the 
			brain of a modern chimpanzee. With this evidence, paleontologists 
			have deduced that “bipedalism preceded encephalization,” by which 
			they mean that our ancestors walked on two legs before they evolved 
			big brains.  
			
			  
			By three million years ago, there was a variety of bipedal 
			fellows with a wide range of cranial volumes, some considerably 
			larger than the East African gracile Australopithecines of a few 
			million years earlier. One of them, which L. S. B. Leakey, the 
			Anglo-Kenyan student of early man, called Homo habilis, had a brain 
			volume of about 700 cubic centimeters. We also have archaeological 
			evidence that Homo habilis made tools. The idea that tools are both 
			the cause and the effect of walking on two legs, which frees the 
			hands, was first advanced by Charles Darwin. The fact that these 
			significant changes in behavior are accompanied by equally 
			significant changes in brain volume does not prove that the one is 
			caused by the other; but our previous discussion makes such a casual 
			link appear very likely.  
			 
			The table on page 92 summarizes the fossil evidence, through 1976, 
			on our most recent ancestors and collateral relatives. The two 
			rather different kinds of Australopithecines were not of the genus 
			Homo, not human; they were still incompletely bipedal and had brain 
			masses only about a third the size of the average adult human brain 
			today. Were we to meet an Australopithecine, say, on the subway, we 
			would perhaps be struck most by the almost total absence of 
			forehead. He was the lowest of lowbrows. There are significant 
			differences between the two kinds of Australopithecines.  
			
			  
			
			 The robust 
			species was taller and heavier, with most impressive “nut-cracker” 
			teeth and a remarkable evolutionary stability. The endocranial 
			volume of A. robustus varies very little from specimen to specimen 
			over millions of years of time. The gracile Australopithecines, 
			judging again from their teeth, probably ate meat as well as 
			vegetables. They were smaller and lither, as their name indicates. 
			However, they are considerably older and have much more variance in 
			endocranial volume than their robust cousins.  
			
			  
			
			 But, most important, 
			the gracile Australopithecine sites are associated with a clear 
			industry: the manufacture of tools made of stone and animal bones, 
			horns and teeth-painstakingly carved, broken, rubbed and polished to 
			make chipping, flaking, pounding and cutting tools. No tools have 
			been associated with A. robustus. The ratio of brain weight to body 
			weight is almost twice as large for the gracile as for the robust 
			Australopithecus, and it is a natural speculation to wonder whether 
			that factor of two is the difference between tools and no tools.  
			
			  
			At apparently the same epoch as the emergence of 
			Australopithecus robustus, there arose a new animal, Homo habilis, the first true man. He was larger, both in body and in
			brain weight, than either of the Australopithecines, and had a 
			ratio of brain to body weight about the same as that of the 
			gracile Australopithecines. He emerged at a time when, for
			climatic reasons, the forests were receding. Homo habilis
			inhabited the vast African savannahs, an extremely challenging 
			environment filled with an enormous variety of predators and 
			prey. On these plains of low grass appeared both the first 
			modern man and the first modern horse. They were almost exact 
			contemporaries.  
			
			  
			In the last sixty million years, there has been a continuous 
			evolution of ungulates, well recorded in the fossil record, and 
			eventually culminating in the modern horse. Eohippus, the “dawn 
			horse” of some fifty million years ago, was about the size of an 
			English collie, with a brain volume of about twenty-five cubic 
			centimeters, and a ratio of brain to body weight about half that of 
			comparable contemporary mammals.  
			
			  
			
			 Since then, horses have experienced 
			a dramatic evolution in both absolute and relative brain size, with 
			major developments in the neocortex and particularly in the frontal 
			lobes - an evolution certainly accompanied by major improvements in 
			equine intelligence. I wonder if the parallel developments in the 
			intelligence of horse and man might have a common cause. Did horses, 
			for example, have to be swift of foot, acute of sense, and 
			intelligent to elude predators which hunted primate as well as 
			equine prey?  
			
			  
			H. habilis had a high forehead, suggesting a significant development 
			of the neocortical areas in the frontal and temporal lobes as well 
			as the regions in the brain, to be discussed later, that seem to be 
			connected with the power of speech. Were we to encounter Homo habilis - dressed, let us say, in the latest fashion on the boulevards 
			of some modern metropolis - we would probably give him only a passing 
			glance, and that because of his relatively small stature. Associated 
			with Homo habilis are a variety of tools of considerable 
			sophistication. In addition, there is evidence from various circular 
			arrangements of stones that Homo habilis may have constructed 
			dwellings; that long before the Pleistocene Ice Ages, long before 
			men regularly inhabited caves, H. habilis was constructing homes 
			out-of-doors-probably of wood, wattle, grass and stone.  
			
			  
			Since H. habilis and A. robustus emerged at the same time, it is
			very unlikely that one was the ancestor of the other. The gracile Australopithecines
			were also contemporaries of Homo habilis but much more ancient. It is therefore possible-although
			by no means certain - that both H. habilis, with a promising
			evolutionary future, and A. robustus, an evolutionary dead end,
			arose from the gracile A. africanus, who survived long enough to be 
			their contemporary.  
			
			  
			The first man whose endocranial volume overlaps that of modern 
			humans is Homo erectus. For many years the principal specimens of H. 
			erectus were known from China and thought to be about half a million 
			years old. But in 1976 Richard Leakey of the National Museums of 
			Kenya reported a nearly complete skull of Homo erectus found in 
			geological strata one and a half million years old. Since the 
			Chinese specimens of Homo erectus are clearly associated with the 
			remains of campfires, it is possible that our ancestors domesticated 
			fire much more than one half million years ago -which makes 
			Prometheus far older than many had thought.  
			
			  
			Perhaps the most striking aspect of the archaeological record 
			concerning tools is that as soon as they appear at all they appear 
			in enormous abundance. It looks very much as though an inspired 
			gracile Australopithecine discovered for the first time the use of 
			tools and immediately taught the tool-making skill to his relatives 
			and friends. There is no way to explain the discontinuous appearance 
			of stone tools unless the Australopithecines had educational 
			institutions. There must have been some sort of stonecraft guild 
			passing on from generation to generation the precious knowledge 
			about the fabrication and use of tools-knowledge that would 
			eventually propel such feeble and almost defenseless primates into 
			domination of the planet Earth. Whether the genus Homo independently 
			invented tools or borrowed the discovery from the genus 
			Australopithecus is not known.  
			
			  
			We see from the table that the ratio of body to brain weight is, 
			within the variance of measurement, roughly the same for the gracile 
			Australopithecines, Homo habilis, Homo erectus and modern humans. 
			The advances we have made in the last few million years cannot 
			therefore be explained by the ratio of brain to body mass, but 
			rather by increasing total brain mass, improved specialization of 
			new function and complexity within the brain, 
			and-especially-extrasomatic learning.  
			 
			L. S. B. Leakey emphasized that the fossil record of a few million 
			years ago is replete with a great variety of manlike forms, an 
			interesting number of which are found with holes or fractures in 
			their skulls. Some of these injuries may have been inflicted by 
			leopards or hyenas; but Leakey and the South African anatomist 
			Raymond Dart believed that many of them were inflicted by our 
			ancestors. In Pliocene/Pleistocene times there was almost certainly 
			a vigorous competition among many manlike forms, of which only one 
			line survived-the tool experts, the line that led to us. What role 
			killing played in that competition remains an open question.  
			
			  
			
			 The gracile Australopithecines were erect, agile, fleet and three and a 
			half feet tall: “little people.” I sometimes wonder whether our 
			myths about gnomes, trolls, giants and dwarfs could possibly be a 
			genetic or cultural memory of those times. At the same time that the 
			hominid cranial volume was undergoing its spectacular increase, 
			there was another striking change in human anatomy; as the British 
			anatomist Sir Wilfred Le Gros Clark of Oxford University has 
			observed, there was a wholesale reshaping of the human pelvis. This 
			was very likely an adaptation to permit the live birth of the latest 
			model large-brained babies.  
			
			  
			
			 Today, it is unlikely that any further 
			substantial enlargement of the pelvic girdle in the region of the 
			birth canal is possible without severely impairing the ability of 
			women to walk efficiently. (At birth, girls already have a 
			significantly larger pelvis and skeletal pelvic opening than do 
			boys; another large increment in the size of the female pelvis 
			occurs at puberty.) The parallel emergence of these two evolutionary 
			events illustrates nicely how natural selection works.  
			
			  
			
			 Those mothers 
			with hereditary large pelvises were able to bear large-brained 
			babies who because of their superior intelligence were able to 
			compete successfully in adulthood with the smaller-brained offspring 
			of mothers with smaller pelvises. He who had a stone axe was more 
			likely to win a vigorous difference of opinion in Pleistocene times. 
			More important, he was a more successful hunter. But the invention 
			and continued manufacture of stone axes required larger brain 
			volumes.  
			 
			So far as I know, childbirth is generally painful in only one of the 
			millions of species on Earth: human beings. This must be a 
			consequence of the recent and continuing increase in cranial volume. 
			Modem men and women have braincases twice the volume of Homo habilis’. Childbirth is painful because the evolution of the human 
			skull has been spectacularly fast and recent.  
			
			  
			
			 The American anatomist 
			C. Judson Herrick described the development of the neocortex in the 
			following terms:  
			
				
				“Its explosive growth late in phylogeny is one of 
			the most dramatic cases of evolutionary transformation known to 
			comparative anatomy.”  
			 
			
			 The incomplete closure of the skull at birth, 
			the fontanelle, is very likely an imperfect accommodation to this 
			recent brain evolution.  
			
			  
			The connection between the evolution of intelligence and the 
			pain of childbirth seems unexpectedly to be made in the Book 
			of Genesis. In punishment for eating the fruit of the tree of the
			knowledge of good and evil, God says to Eve,* “In pain shalt
			thou bring forth children” (Genesis 3:16).  
			
			  
			
			 It is interesting that it
			is not the getting of any sort of knowledge that God has 
			forbidden, but, specifically, the knowledge of the difference 
			between good and evil-that is, abstract and moral judgments, 
			which, if they reside anywhere, reside in the neocortex.  
			
			  
			
			 Even
			at the time that the Eden story was written, the development of 
			cognitive skills was seen as endowing man with godlike powers 
			and awesome responsibilities. God says: “Behold, the man is 
			become as one of us, to know good and evil; and now, lest he 
			put forth his hand, and take also of the Tree of Life, and eat, 
			and live forever” (Genesis 3:22), he must be driven out of the 
			Garden. God places cherubim with a flaming sword east of Eden 
			to guard the Tree of Life from the ambitions of man.+  
			
			  
			 * God’s judgment on the serpent is that henceforth “upon thy belly shalt thou go”-implying that previously reptiles traveled by an 
			alternative mode of locomotion. This is, of course, precisely true: 
			snakes have evolved from four-legged reptilian ancestors resembling 
			dragons. Many snakes still retain anatomical vestiges of the limbs 
			of their ancestors.  
			
			  
			+ Cherubim is plural; Genesis 3:24 specifies one flaming sword. 
			Presumably flaming swords were in short supply. 
			  
			 
			Perhaps the Garden of Eden is not so different from Earth as it 
			appeared to our ancestors of some three or four million years ago, 
			during a legendary golden age when the genus Homo was perfectly 
			interwoven with the other beasts and vegetables. After the exile 
			from Eden we find, in the biblical account, mankind condemned to 
			death; hard work; clothing and modesty as preventatives of sexual 
			stimulation; the dominance of men over women; the domestication of 
			plants (Cain); the domestication of animals (Abel); and murder (Cain 
			plus Abel).  
			
			  
			
			 These all correspond reasonably well to the historical 
			and archaeological evidence. In the Eden metaphor, there is no 
			evidence of murder before the Fall. But those fractured skulls of 
			bipeds not on the evolutionary line to man may be evidence that our 
			ancestors killed, even in Eden, many manlike animals.  
			
			  
			Civilization develops not from Abel, but from Cain the murderer. The 
			very word “civilization” derives from the Latin word for city. It is 
			the leisure time, community organization and specialization of labor 
			in the first cities that permitted the emergence of the arts and 
			technologies we think of as the hallmarks of civilizations.  
			
			  
			
			 The 
			first city, according to Genesis, was constructed by Cain, the 
			inventor of agriculture-a technology that requires a fixed abode. 
			And it is his descendants, the sons of Lamech, who invent both 
			“artifices in brass and iron” and musical instruments. Metallurgy 
			and music-technology and art-are in the line from Cain. And the 
			passions that lead to murder do not abate: Lamech says,  
			
				
				“For I have 
			slain a man for wounding me, and a young man for bruising me; if 
			Cain shall be avenged sevenfold, truly Lamech seventy and 
			sevenfold.” 
			 
			
			 The connection between murder and invention has been 
			with us ever since. Both derive from agriculture and civilization.  
			
			 
			 
			One of the earliest consequences of the anticipatory skills that 
			accompanied the evolution of the prefrontal lobes must have 
			been the awareness of death. Man is probably the only 
			organism on Earth with a relatively clear view of the 
			inevitability of his own end. Burial ceremonies that include the 
			interment of food and artifacts along with the deceased go back at 
			least to the times of our Neanderthal cousins, suggesting not only a 
			widespread awareness of death but also an already developed ritual 
			ceremony to sustain the deceased in the afterlife.  
			
			  
			
			 It is not that 
			death was absent before the spectacular growth of the neocortex, 
			before the exile from Eden; it is only that, until then, no one had 
			ever noticed that death would be his destiny.  
			
			  
			The fall from Eden seems to be an appropriate metaphor for some of 
			the major biological events in recent human evolution. This may 
			account for its popularity.* It is not so remarkable as to require 
			us to believe in a kind of biological memory of ancient historical 
			events, but it does seem to me close enough to risk at least raising 
			the question. The only repository of such a biological memory is, of 
			course, the genetic code.  
			
			  
			* In the West. There are, of course, many insightful and profound 
			myths on the origin of mankind in other human cultures.  
			By fifty-five million years ago, in the Eocene Period, there was a 
			great proliferation of primates, both arboreal and ground-dwelling, 
			and the evolution of a line of descent that eventually led to Man. 
			Some primates of those times-e. g., a prosimian called 
			Tetonius-exhibit in their endocranial casts tiny nubs where the 
			frontal lobes will later evolve. The first fossil evidence of a 
			brain of even vaguely human aspects dates back to eighteen million 
			years to the Miocene Period, when an anthropoid ape which we call 
			Proconsul or Dryo-pithecus appeared. Proconsul was quadrupedal and 
			arboreal, probably ancestral to the present great apes and possibly 
			to Homo sapiens as well. He is roughly what we might expect for a 
			common ancestor of apes and men. (His approximate contemporary, 
			Ramapithecus, is thought by some anthropologists to be ancestral to 
			man.) Proconsul’s endocranial casts show recognizable frontal lobes 
			but much less well developed neocortical convolutions than are 
			displayed by apes and men today. His cranial volume was still very 
			small.   
			 
			The biggest burst of evolution in cranial volume occurred in the 
			last few million years.  
			
			  
			Patients who have had prefrontal lobotomies have been described as 
			losing a “continuing sense of self” - the feeling that I am a 
			particular individual with some control over my life and 
			circumstances, the “me-ness” of me, the uniqueness of the 
			individual. It is possible that lower mammals and reptiles, lacking 
			extensive frontal lobes, also lack this sense, real or illusory, of 
			individuality and free will, which is so characteristically human 
			and which may first have been experienced dimly by Proconsul.  
			
			  
			The development of human culture and the evolution of those 
			physiological traits we consider characteristically human most 
			likely proceeded-almost literally-hand in hand: the better our 
			genetic predispositions for running, communicating and manipulating, 
			the more likely we were to develop effective tools and hunting 
			strategies; the more adaptive our tools and hunting strategies, the 
			more likely it was that our characteristic genetic endowments would 
			survive. The American anthropologist Sherwood Wash - burn of the 
			University of California, a principal exponent of this view, has 
			said:  
			
				
				“Much of what we think of as human evolved long after the use 
			of tools. It is probably more correct to think of much of our 
			structure as the result of culture than it is to think of men 
			anatomically like ourselves slowly developing culture.”  
			 
			
			 Some students of human evolution believe that part of the 
			selection pressure behind this enormous burst in brain 
			evolution was in the motor cortex and not at first in the 
			neocortical regions responsible for cognitive processes. They 
			stress the remarkable abilities of human beings to throw 
			projectiles accurately, to move gracefully, and-as Louis Leakey 
			enjoyed illustrating by direct demonstration-naked, to outrun 
			and immobilize game animals. Such sports as baseball, football, 
			wrestling, track and field events, chess and warfare may owe 
			their appeal-as well as their largely male following-to these prewired hunting skills, which served us so well for millions of
			years of human history but which find diminished practical 
			applications today.  
			
			  
			Effective defense against predators and the hunting of game were 
			both necessarily cooperative ventures. The environment in which man 
			evolved-in Africa in Pliocene and Pleistocene times-was inhabited by 
			a variety of terrifying mammalian carnivores, perhaps the most 
			awesome of which were packs of large hyenas. It was very difficult 
			to defend oneself alone against such a pack. Stalking large animals, 
			either solitary beasts or herds, is dangerous; some gestural 
			communication among the hunters is necessary.  
			
			  
			
			 We know, for example, 
			that shortly after man entered North America, via the Bering Straits 
			in the Pleistocene Period, there were massive and spectacular kills 
			of large game animals, often by driving them over cliffs. In order 
			to stalk a single wildebeest or stampede a herd of antelope to their 
			deaths, hunters must share at least a minimal symbolic language. 
			Adam’s first act was linguistic-long before the Fall and even before 
			the creation of Eve: he named the animals of Eden.  
			
			  
			Some forms of gestural symbolic language, of course,
			originated much earlier than the primates; canines and many 
			other mammals who form dominance hierarchies may indicate 
			submission by averting the eyes or baring the neck. We have 
			mentioned other submissive rituals in primates such as 
			macaques. The human greetings of bow, nod and curtsy may 
			have a similar origin. Many animals seem to signal friendship by 
			biting, but not hard enough to hurt, as if to say, “I am able to 
			bite you but choose not to do so.” The raising of the right hand 
			as a symbol of greeting among humans has precisely the same 
			significance: “I could attack you with a weapon but choose not 
			to wield one.” *  
			
			  
			* The upraised and open right hand is sometimes described as a 
			“universal” symbol of good will. It at least runs the gamut from 
			Praetorian Guards to Sioux scouts. Since those wielding weapons are, 
			in human history, characteristically male, it should be and is a 
			characteristically male greeting. For these reasons, among others, 
			the plaque aboard the Pioneer 10
			spacecraft-the first artifact of mankind to leave the solar 
			system-included a drawing of a naked man and woman, the man’s hand 
			raised, palm out, in greeting (see illustration on p. 246). In The 
			Cosmic Connection I describe the humans on the plaque as the most 
			obscure part of the message. Nevertheless, I wonder. Could the 
			significance of the man’s gesture be deduced by beings with very 
			different biologies?  
			
			  
			Extensive gestural languages were employed by many human hunting 
			communities-for example, among the Plains Indians, who also used 
			smoke signals. According to Homer, the victory of the Hellenes at 
			Troy was conveyed from Ilium to Greece, a distance of some hundred 
			miles, by a series of signal fires. The date was about 1100 B.C. 
			However, both the repertoire of ideas and the speed with which ideas 
			can be communicated in gestural or sign languages is limited. Darwin 
			pointed out that gestural languages cannot usefully be employed 
			while our hands are otherwise occupied, or at night, or when our 
			view of the hands is obstructed. One can imagine gestural languages 
			being gradually supplemented and then supplanted by verbal languages 
			-which originally may have been onomatopoeic (that is, imitative in 
			sound of the object or action being described).  
			
			  
			
			 Children call dogs 
			“bow-wows.” In almost all human languages the child’s word for 
			“mother” seems imitative of the sound made inadvertently while 
			feeding at the breast. But all of this could not have occurred 
			without a restructuring of the brain.  
			We know from skeletal remains associated with early man that our 
			ancestors were hunters. We know enough about the hunting of large 
			animals to realize that some language is required for cooperative 
			stalking. But ideas on the antiquity of language have received a 
			measure of unexpected support from detailed studies of fossil 
			endocasts made by the American anthropologist Ralph L. Holloway of 
			Columbia University.  
			
			  
			Holloway’s casts of fossil skulls are made of rubber latex, and 
			he has attempted to deduce something of the detailed 
			morphology of the brain from the shape of the skull. The 
			activity is a kind of phrenology, but on the inside rather than on
			the outside and much more soundly based. Holloway believes 
			that a region of the brain known as Broca’s area, one of several
			centers required for speech, can be detected in fossil endocasts; 
			and that he has found evidence for Broca’s area in a Homo habilis 
			fossil more than two million years old. The development of language, 
			tools and culture may have occurred roughly simultaneously.  
			
			  
			There were, incidentally, manlike creatures who lived only a few 
			tens of thousands of years ago - the Neanderthals and the 
			Cro-Magnons — who had average brain volumes of about 1,500 cubic 
			centimeters; that is, more than a hundred cubic centimeters larger 
			than ours. Most anthropologists guess that we are not descended from 
			Neanderthals and may not be from Cro-Magnons either. But their 
			existence raises the question:  
			
				
				Who were those fellows? What were their accomplishments? Cro-Magnon 
			was also very large: some specimens were well over six feet tall. We 
			have seen that a difference in brain volume of 100 cubic centimeters 
			does not seem to be significant, and perhaps they were no smarter 
			than we or our immediate ancestors; or perhaps they had other, still 
			unknown, physical impediments.  
				 
				
				  
				
				Neanderthal was a lowbrow, but his 
			head was long, front to back; in contrast, our heads are not so 
			deep, but they are taller: we can certainly be described as 
			highbrows. Might the brain growth exhibited by Neanderthal man have 
			been in the parietal and occipital lobes, and the major brain growth 
			of our ancestors in the frontal and temporal lobes? Is it possible 
			that the Neanderthals developed quite a different mentality than 
			ours, and that our superior linguistic and anticipatory skills 
			enabled us to destroy utterly our husky and intelligent cousins? 
				 
			 
			
			 So far as we know, nothing like human intelligence appeared on 
			Earth before a few million, or at least a few tens of millions of
			years ago. But that is a few tenths of a percent of the age of 
			Earth, very late in December in the Cosmic Calendar. Why did it 
			appear so late? The answer clearly seems to be that some 
			particular property of higher primate and cetacean brains did 
			not evolve until recently. But what is that property? I can 
			suggest at least four possibilities, all of which have already 
			been mentioned, either explicitly or implicitly:  
			
				
				(1) Never before
			was there a brain so massive;  
				
				(2) Never before was there a
			brain with so large a ratio of brain to body mass;  
				
				(3) Never before 
			was there a brain with certain functional units (large frontal and 
			temporal lobes, for example);  
				
				(4) Never before was there a brain 
			with so many neural connections or synapses.  
			 
			
			 (There seems to be some 
			evidence that along with the evolution of the human brain there may 
			have been an increase in the number of connections of each neuron 
			with its neighbor, and in the number of microcircuits.)  
			
			  
			
			 Explanations 
			1, 2 and 4 argue that a quantitative change produced a qualitative 
			change. It does not seem to me that a crisp choice among these four 
			alternatives can be made at the present time, and I suspect that the 
			truth will actually embrace most or all of these possibilities.  
			  
			
			 The British student of human evolution 
			Sir Arthur Keith proposed 
			what he called a “Rubicon” in the evolution of the human brain. He 
			thought that at the brain volume of Homo erectus - about 750 cubic 
			centimeters, roughly the engine displacement of a fast motorcycle 
			- the uniquely human qualities begin to emerge. The “Rubicon” might, 
			of course, have been more qualitative than quantitative. Perhaps the 
			difference was not so much an additional 200 cubic centimeters as 
			some specific developments in the frontal, temporal and parietal 
			lobes which provided us with analytical ability, foresight and 
			anxiety.  
			
			  
			While we can debate what the “Rubicon” corresponds to, the idea of 
			some sort of Rubicon is not without value. But if there is a Rubicon 
			anywhere near 750 cubic centimeters, while differences of the order 
			of 100 or 200 cubic centimeters do not-at any rate to us-seem to be 
			compelling determinants of intelligence, might not the apes be 
			intelligent in some recognizably human sense? A typical chimpanzee 
			brain volume is 400 cubic centimeters; a lowland gorilla’s, 500 cc. 
			This is the range of brain volumes among the tool-using gracile Australopithecines.  
			
			  
			The Jewish historian Josephus added to the list of penalties and 
			tribulations that accompanied Mankind’s exile from Eden the loss of 
			our ability to communicate with the animals.  
			
			  
			Chimpanzees have large brains; they have well-developed 
			neocortices; they, too, have long childhoods and extended periods of 
			plasticity. Are they capable of abstract thought? If they’re smart, 
			why don’t they talk? 
			
			  
			
			
			
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