Gods of the Upper Air: How a Circle of Renegade Anthropologists Reinvented Race, Sex, and Gender in the Twentieth Century

When Boas retired in 1936, Benedict expected to be named chair of the anthropology department. She was slighted by the appointment of Ralph Linton, personally chosen by Boas’s long-time detractor, Nicholas Butler. Butler hoped to steer the department in a different direction, having frowned upon how subversive Boas had been during his tenure, and the graduate students Boas accepted, whom Butler considered misfits. Conflict ensued, with some department members siding with Benedict, others with Linton. It was a tense, hostile environment only quelled by the presence of Boas, who kept an office in the department.

Worryingly, German political and social theorists began drawing inspiration from the American model of race-based methods of governance. They studied the data collection and cataloging methods of the Eugenics Record Office and examined public policies on sterilization, segregation, “institutionalization,” marriage laws, and unofficial methods for suppressing the rights of those considered “other.” Boas died suddenly in 1942, not long after the US entered World War II, and many lamented that he had passed just when his wisdom and direction were needed most.

In 1943, Benedict enlisted with the Office of War Information (OWI). Together, various experts collaborated to participate in what King calls “culture cracking at a distance” (319). They analyzed all they could gather on Japanese culture to help prepare those involved in the Allied war effort. It was a unique opportunity for Benedict to implement her skillset: She was discouraged by the racist propaganda in the American media, which targeted the Japanese, and correcting these misconceptions became extremely important to her. Her book, The Chrysanthemum and the Sword, published in late 1945, was the culmination of her work at the OWI, largely informed by her discussions with Robert Seido Hashima, a young Japanese American man released from an American concentration camp to work for the OWI. Especially significant to Benedict were how influential shame, guilt, and obligation were in Japanese culture in a way that did not manifest in American society. The book’s title referred to the contrast Benedict saw between the Japanese commitment to refined ideals of beauty on one hand, and militarism and a stoic sense of honor on the other. The Chrysanthemum and the Sword was redeeming of and respectful toward Japanese culture, informing Americans about a way of life most did not understand. At the time, it was the most widely read work of anthropology ever written, selling millions of copies.

By the time World War II ended, Benedict had eclipsed the other members of the Boas circle in fame. She was finally appointed a full professor at Columbia University, and president of the American Anthropology Association, but she suffered a heart attack and died in 1948. By then, the Boas circle had lost touch with Hurston and Deloria: Hurston had largely disappeared from public life and passed away in 1960, following significant health and financial issues. Deloria was unable to attend Benedict’s funeral, as she was deeply involved in running the school her father had founded at Standing Rock Reservation. Margaret Mead survived most of her colleagues, publishing and lecturing widely, perpetuating Boas’s philosophy of research and his passion for inquisitiveness. She died in 1978, having lived long enough to become both celebrated and despised.

The field of 21st-century anthropology has evolved far from its origins in the Boas circle, but the group achieved its objective of reshaping the way Westerners, particularly Americans, conceptualized themselves and people from other cultures. They brought quantitative, science-based methods to what had been a largely subjective discipline and dispelled erroneous beliefs based on eugenics. They challenged scholars and laypersons like to recognize their ingrained assumptions and to see them not as inherently or instinctively right but as an obstacle to better understanding themselves and their fellow human beings.