Caste, socialism and social capital

Some new research by Dan Ariely (of Predictably Irrational fame) and co shows some interesting correlation between a socialist/communist upbringing and attitude towards lying (The Economist reports this research under the headline “Lying Commies“). While I’m not particularly convinced about the research methodology (sample of 250 respondents under a simulated environment – but then most behavioural research suffers from this problem) I find this research interesting since it supports another hypothesis that my wife and I came up with a few days ago – that India’s low social capital is a consequence of the caste system.

I’ve long maintained that the Indian caste system is perhaps the earliest example of a socialist economy. Assuming that reproductive rates across different castes were similar (there is no reason to believe otherwise) what the caste system ensured was that the relative supply of labour across different occupations remained constant even in small geographical areas, and consequently the relative prices of goods remained broadly constant. We can thus think of the caste system as an instance of a socialist model where each one’s profession is determined at birth, and relative prices are fixed. I will go as far to say that there is no better example of a planned economy than the ancient Indian caste system.

One of the inherent problems of Indian society is the lack of social capital. To use my co-INI blogger Nitin Pai’s framework, Indians value Swaartha (self-interest) over Paraartha (interest of others) to an extent that is far beyond the optimal level. The hypothesis goes that there is an optimal mix of Swaartha and Paraartha that should enter one’s objective function while making decisions in everyday life. For example, do you allow the other car to pass before you so that you avoid the traffic jam or do you rush ahead just because there is space in front of your car? Do you over-graze the commons just because it is there or do you consume it in moderation so that others have something to consume, too? A society with a high degree of social capital gives a higher weight to Paraartha in these objective functions, and people in such societies cooperate more and collectively take decisions that make more sense at the societal level.

Now, societies where life is tough (due to geographical or environmental factors) generally face a higher degree of social capital than those where life is easier. One way to experience this would be to drive from Punjab to Himachal Pradesh. On the wide roads of the Punjab plains, it is dog-eats-dog on the road – people overspeed, overtake like crazy and don’t give too much consideration to others on the road. Once you enter the hills of Himachal Pradesh, though, the whole equation changes. Here, a confrontational paradigm doesn’t get you too far – the narrow roads and winding curves mean that drivers need to cooperate more in order to get their way. Social capital in such societies is naturally higher.

Social capital is sticky in one way – if a particular generation in a particular location has high social capital, it is extremely likely that the preceding generation also had high social capital. The reverse, however, is not necessarily true – social capital can sometimes be destroyed in double quick time (think, for example, of the Lebanese Civil War between 1975 and 1990). Thus, the fact that social capital in India today is low could either be because it was always low, or because there was a particular event that destroyed social capital. Since it is unlikely that there was one event which destroyed social capital in the entire country, it seems more likely that social capital in India has always been low.

Social capital is important in a society where there are no rules – if you have a traffic signal at an intersection, for example, the lights will ensure that there is no jam. However, in the absence of rules (or lights) high degree of cooperation is necessary between drivers in order to lead to higher throughput from the signal. One way of combating a society with low social capital is to have lots of rules – these rules rather than social conventions can then drive the society. The converse is also true – in a highly rule based society there is no real need for social capital, and thus social capital can wear off down the generations.

As explained earlier, the caste system meant that the ancient and medieval Indian society was highly planned and rule based. Complex caste rules ensured that there was a rule for any possible social occurrence which might otherwise require cooperation. A brahmin’s cart and a shudra’s cart on the same one-lane path? There was a rule regarding right of way. Two people reaching the river at the same time to bathe? A rule governed who might swim upstream. And so forth.

My hypothesis is that the rule-based society ancient India had due to the caste system meant that there wasn’t much need for social capital. And thus India has never been a high social capital country (except of course for tracts such as Himachal Pradesh where life has been difficult). To put it another way, we see that a socialist economy from the past ages has led to consistently low social capital.

Which is not that far off from what Ariely et al say in their paper.

First name basis

1. I’ve noticed that people in the South use first names much more commonly than in the North. I can think if a simple explanation for this – south indians either don’t have family names (tn, old mysore) or have unpronouncable/hardtoremember family names (andhra/kerala). so a south indian Siddharth Tata is likely to introduce himself as T. Siddharth whereas a north indian Siddharth Tata is likely to say S. Tata.

2. I’ve noticed in my extended family that concepts such as “aunty” and “uncle” made their entry only in my generation. I’ve never heard either of my parents using either of these words, or any of their Kannada synonyms. Everyone is addressed by their first name, irrespective of whether he is nephew/cousin/uncle/granduncle.

However, this firstname thing stops at the family level and doesn’t extend to work. People unrelated to you instinctively become Sir or Madam (this is in my parents’ generation. I don’t know how people in my grandparents’ generation addressed unrelated people). In fact, all of my mom’s male colleagues used to address her as Madam (or I should say may-dum).

I don’t have data to support it but it is possible that this Sir business has something to do with the British Raj, and wasn’t common in South India before that. I don’t know how far back the “ji” system in the North goes (i know it goes back at least as far as Gandhiji), but my general sense is that it is fairly ancient.

Ok – so – here is the hypothesis. We Indians are not hierarchical at the family level. Despite all talk of “don’t question your elders” and similar sundry stuff, I don’t think at the family level we are inherently hierarchical. However, go beyond the family and the caste system takes over and brings in a social hierarchy – which is why everyone outside the family becomes “sir”, etc.