Hunters and Gatherers
It’s the dawn of civilization, several hundred thousand years ago.
Two bark-chewing, club-smacking Neanderthals swagger out of a cave, ready for the daily hunt.
They spot Arg.
“Hey, Arg,” one jeers. “Going gathering today?”
“Yeah,” sneers the other. “Be careful stalking those savage roots and berries. Har, har, har.”
Mortified, Arg slinks off.
And so it goes. Another day with the hunters and gatherers.
It is the pinnacle of prejudice.
Being a hunter is considered macho and praiseworthy. Being a gatherer is wimpy and cause for ridicule.
It’s always been that way.
For gifts, Neanderthal parents routinely gave their little simian tykes sharp rocks and pointed sticks, so they wouldn’t grow up to be gatherers.
Today, walk into a bar and call some guy a gatherer, and he’ll come at you with a busted beer bottle and a pool cue.
The hunters have always gotten the best press. Someone in Spain or Portugal stumbles on a cave whose walls are covered with primitive drawings – stick hunters killing stick animals – and the whole world gets excited. Those pictures are so crude that, if your child drew them, you wouldn’t even put them on the refrigerator.
Yet, two years ago, an archaeologist discovered a cave that had been inhabited solely by gatherers. On the walls was not only a sophisticated depiction of a day’s gathering, but also the first recorded recipe for hash browns. Were there any news reports on this historic find? Of course not. The story was quashed.
It’s not right.
The gatherers have been getting a bum rap.
In fact, the gatherer is actually superior to the hunter, and I can tell you why in three words – the noble potato.
Without gatherers, we wouldn’t have potatoes. We wouldn’t have potato chips, scalloped potatoes, gnocchi, potato salad, French fries, latkes, or mashed potatoes. And be honest – would you really want to live in a world without twice baked potatoes au gratin? Me, either.
Without potatoes, stew would just be soup. (Of course, we would still have Pringles, since they aren’t really made from potatoes, but recycled cardboard.)
Why do you think there are no more dinosaurs today? An asteroid? A giant meteorite? A cold snap? Hah. Don’t let them kid you. It was the hunters. Without club control or pointed stick laws, the hunters wiped them out.
Would you like chipped mastodon on toast, or a medium rare dodo burger, or grilled passenger pigeon? Forget it. The hunters liquidated them.
But saunter into any restaurant and ask for a baked potato with sour cream, chives, and bacon bits, and you’re in business. The gatherers protected our potato legacy.
So, let’s be fair.
Although I’m not actually a gatherer myself, and you may not be either, the gatherers deserve our thanks and admiration.
And, to be truthful, I could go the rest of my life without venison or grouse.
But don’t mess with my tater tots.