Teleonomic interpretations of human evolution question whether behaviors like hunting, meat-eating, food sharing, and intra-group cooperation existed in extinct hominins. This perspective assumes H. sapiens as the pinnacle of hominin evolution. However, such behaviors may not require the complex cognitive capacities of modern human brains. Early H. erectus, with brains within the lower range of modern humans and more robust, agile anatomies, may have been highly efficient foragers. Their adaptive success likely stemmed from culturally selected behaviors rather than advanced cognition alone.

The gracilization of H. sapiens may be rooted in shifts in reproductive and social behaviors rather than improvements in foraging strategies. Brain expansion in our species was likely driven by the evolution of complex communication, symbolism, and social interaction, forming the basis of modern human social networks. This alternative perspective generates testable hypotheses regarding behavior preserved in the archaeological record. Under this model, hunting emerges as a byproduct rather than a driver of early human socio-reproductive structures.

The Introduction tackles biases and lacunae in recent discussions about the effects of economic globalization on the world-literary circulation of texts. I highlight three arguments (Ph. Cheah, A. Mufti, E. Apter) that dismiss world literature as a procedure of exchange for surrendering to “neoliberal global capitalism” and confront them with the observation that even the critique of this systemic correlation loses sight of spaces other than that of the Euro-Atlantic world system (D. Ganguly, F. Orsini). Against this background, the Introduction claims that the political economy of world literature offers a more complex picture even within the confines of European capitalist modernity if we recognize the diversity of economic discourses surrounding its early theories. First, I attempt to historicize and diversify the notion of “the economy” by addressing semantic oscillations in the notions of ecology, circulation, and commerce. Then I outline the five “designs of circulation” the individual chapters will address and make preliminary suggestions about their pre-, non-, or anti-capitalist elements.

Abstract: This chapter contends that modern ecological debates can be traced back to the differences between the Hobbesian constructivist idea of an exit from nature, a Lockean productivist enhancement of nature, and a Rousseauian idea of conservation built on his notion of supplementarity. It shows how these conflicting views shape current ecological discourses and crises, and help us to understand the complex, fractured ecological sensibility of the modern West.

The author embraces Uniformitarianism to re-examine whether creoles and pidgins emerged in an exceptional way and why there are so few pidgins lexified by European languages in coastal Africa where the earliest trade contacts between European mercantile companies and Indigenous rulers took place. Equally significant is the fact that no historian of the trade mentions usage of a Portuguese pidgin-cum-broken language, though it appears that Portuguese functioned as the default lingua franca from the coast of West Africa to coastal East Asia. Note also that no English pidgin emerged in India, the territory from which the British East India Company spread its activities to Southeast and East Asia. There are more English pidgins than those based on other European languages; and most English pidgins are in the South Pacific. An extensive review of how the trade between Europeans and non-Europeans operated, through brokers-cum-interpreters, reveals that pidgins emerged like creoles by basilectalization away from the lexifier and not sooner than the early nineteenth century. Comparisons with the emergence of more specifically the Romance languages also suggests that the latter evolved similarly to creoles and pidgins, by gradual divergence away from the lexifier, under substrate influence.

The editors trace Uniformitarianism, aka the Uniformitarian Principle, to the nineteenth-century geologist Charles Lyell. Applying it critically to language evolution, they explain their interpretation of it as a two-way heuristic concept that uses information about language change in the distant past to shed light on recent changes and at the same time employs findings about recent language evolution, especially from an ecological perspective, to ask useful questions about earlier cases of language speciation. Assuming that the emergence of creoles and pidgins instantiates language speciation, they argue that the tables can be turned around how to use the ecological approach to show evolutionary similarities between the emergence of these new language varieties and that of their lexifiers. Evidence is adduced not only from the histories of the relevant language contacts but also from various restructuring processes observed in diverse domains of linguistics, such as the Nicaraguan Sign Language (NSL). The editors argue that the Uniformitarian approach disputes the interpretation of the home signs brought to the boarding school for the Deaf as pidgins. Specifically, the emergence of NSL illustrates the kinds of social dynamics under which communal languages (creoles and non-creoles alike) must have emerged in the history of mankind.

Abstract: The Conclusion argues that the state of nature remains central to understanding the fractured condition of modern Western thought, particularly in the fields of colonialism, secularism, and ecology. It highlights the continuing relevance of the notion for interpreting the fragmented imaginaries of Western modernity.

The epilogue considers one possible future incarnation of the idea of progress in medicine, namely progress as achieving sustainability. Despite the fact that environmental concerns have long been associated with reimagined ideas of progress, aspirations for sustainability remain underdeveloped in medicine. Nevertheless, this epilogue discusses the cases in which the concept of medical progress has been coupled with “sustainable” or “green” medicine. Visions of sustainable medical progress tend to presuppose a multidimensional concept of medical progress, call for expanding the time frame in which progress is assessed, and posit environmental limits as constraints on open-ended progress. At the same time, few of these visions engage with the pluralistic nature of medical progress, preferring to understand measures that support a robust natural environment as intrinsically good for the health of individuals and societies, and broadly aligned with the goals of conventional medicine.

Michael Field’s notion of ecology includes as fundamental components of their sense of being not only the external elements with which humans interact but also the gestures of curiosity, invitation, and emotional outreach themselves. In conceptualising the act of writing as part of this interspecies mutual realisation, they grappled with the conundrum of existing within their environment while seemingly being forced to render it from an external vantage point. This chapter proposes that they address the issue not simply through formal and other writerly innovations that depict their eco-relationality but also by encouraging a sense of their writing as an actual part of this network of emotional linkages and potentialities. Focusing primarily on their play, William Rufus, and a section of their diaries, this chapter explores that this is an undertaking less invested in reifying an eco-queer identity than in breaching the knowledge structure that scaffolds the concept of identity itself.

Tarai was a landmass running along an east-west axis just to the south of the Himalayan ranges and was a part of Himalayan Kumaun ecology. At the stroke of independence, the colonialists had made plans to clear the Tarai and settle it with Indian soldiers returning from World War II. The task of actual clearing fell on the sovereign Indian government as the pressure to settle refugees piled on top of the plan to settle soldiers. With the nation struggling to meet its food requirements a new vision was born to turn the Tarai into a “granary” for the province. Under these contingencies, the Tarai became a landmass wherein new settlers were encouraged to perfect the art of productive agriculture. The post-colonial developmentalist state set up a model state farm to propagate such practices. To the outside developer and modernizer, Tarai came across as empty though, in fact, it was inhabited by a limited number of hill communities and villages. As Tarai was turned into a farming land with settlers from beyond, a local democratic movement for autonomy erupted in the region that called into question the method of land settlement and transformation.

This chapter articulates the book’s main intervention and contribution, ending with a brief discussion of the phrases “is a book” and “like a book.” Premodern writers who said something “is” or is “like a book” forged the very conceptual connection that How the World Became a Book traces through English culture. Contains six major sections covering the contribution and intervention of the book.

Sub-Saharan Africa was on the threshold of a new and violent era in the second half of the fifteenth century. The ensuing four centuries would see innovative forms of military organisation, novel cultures of militarism underpinning such systems, and new wars, as well as new ways of fighting them. There were often different factors at work in different regions; the presence of external drivers was a key distinction between Atlantic Africa and the rest of the continent, for instance. However, warfare across early modern Africa had much in common, in terms of the aim to control factor endowments, to maximise population, and to construct enduring ideological systems, whether territorially or culturally defined. In some ways – certainly in terms of the underlying trends and broad contours of Africa’s military history – the existence or absence of external intrusion is a distraction, however significant it was in particular places at particular times. The outcome of the processes in motion between c. 1450 and c. 1850 was an expansion in military scale, the professionalisation of soldiery, the adoption of new weaponry, and the militarisation of the polity – whether ‘state-based’ or otherwise. The militarisation of African polities and societies was an ongoing process between the fifteenth and the nineteenth century, a period which in many ways witnessed the laying of the foundations of modern African political systems; this would culminate in a veritable military revolution in the nineteenth century, a transformation in the organisation and culture of violence, without which Europe’s later partition of the continent cannot properly be understood.

Gwendolyn Alker considers particular aspects of Fornés’s work – including the way she asked her students to do yoga before writing, her various exercises developed to bypass the frontal cortex, and her prescient connections to the animal world – to argue for a “Fornésian ecology” and to evince its lessons for our collective futures on a damaged planet. Alker argues that the characters in Mud (alongside many of Fornés’s plays) must be understood through their relationship with each other and with their environment. Alker submits that Fornesian world-making prompts us to see the environment within the world of her plays, to be aware that we are outside that world and will never fully understand it, just as we cannot ever fully understand the animals that we encounter, even as Fornés’s plays challenge us to cultivate empathy for animals, understand their relevance, and believe in their truths, despite their otherness from ourselves.