A split-scene illustration contrasts an ancient society with a modern urban landscape, divided by a central hourglass symbolizing the passage of time. The composition emphasizes that historical societies should first be understood according to the knowledge, values, and circumstances of their own era before being evaluated through contemporary moral frameworks, illustrating the concept of temporal relativity as an anthropological approach to interpreting the past. (Image generated by ChatGPT using DALL·E, 2026.)
Anthropologists are taught early in their education to avoid ethnocentrism. One of the primary methodological tools for doing so is cultural relativism, the principle that beliefs, customs, and social institutions should first be understood within the cultural context in which they exist rather than judged solely according to the standards of another culture (Boas, 1940; Herskovits, 1972). Cultural relativism does not require anthropologists to approve of every cultural practice they encounter. Rather, it requires them to understand those practices as the people within that society understood them before making comparisons or evaluations.
Over the years, I have wondered whether a similar principle might be applied to the study of the past. I propose the concept of temporal relativity as an anthropological analogy to cultural relativism. By temporal relativity, I mean the methodological principle that societies should first be understood according to the historical circumstances, knowledge, values, and social structures of their own time before being evaluated through the moral or cultural standards of the present.
I recognize that historians have long emphasized historical contextualization and have cautioned against presentism, the tendency to interpret the past primarily through modern assumptions and values. My intention is not to replace those concepts or to speak as a historian. Rather, I am approaching the question from the perspective of anthropology. If cultural relativism helps us understand differences between societies existing at the same time, perhaps temporal relativity can help us understand differences between societies separated by time.
Cultural relativism encourages anthropologists to ask what a particular belief or practice meant to the people who lived it. Instead of asking whether another culture is right or wrong according to our own standards, we ask how that culture understood itself. Temporal relativity asks similar questions, but across history rather than across geography. How did people of a particular period understand their own institutions? What assumptions about family, religion, economics, politics, and morality shaped their decisions? What alternatives were realistically imaginable within the historical conditions in which they lived?
Consider slavery in the ancient Mediterranean. From the perspective of contemporary human rights, slavery is morally unacceptable. Temporal relativity does not ask us to abandon that conclusion. Instead, it asks us first to understand why slavery was nearly universal throughout the ancient world, how it was justified philosophically and economically, and how people within those societies understood the institution. Only after reconstructing that historical framework can meaningful comparisons be made between their moral world and our own.
A similar example can be found in historical understandings of marriage. Many societies considered marriage shortly after puberty to be socially acceptable, often viewing the onset of menstruation as a transition into adulthood. Today, many societies would regard such marriages as child marriage or child abuse. Temporal relativity does not excuse these historical practices. Rather, it asks us to understand how those societies defined childhood, adulthood, family, and responsibility before evaluating them through contemporary moral frameworks.
This distinction between explanation and endorsement is essential. Cultural relativism has sometimes been criticized as encouraging moral relativism or excusing harmful cultural practices. I believe this criticism misunderstands cultural relativism as a methodological approach rather than a moral philosophy. Explaining why a society practiced something is not the same as approving of it. The same distinction applies to temporal relativity. Historical explanation should not be confused with historical endorsement.
One reason I find this concept useful is that it encourages intellectual humility. Every society, including our own, operates within assumptions that often appear self-evident to those living within them. Future generations may judge many of our own beliefs and institutions quite differently than we do today. Recognizing that possibility reminds us that we are not uniquely objective observers standing outside history. We are participants within it.
I do not suggest that the past should become immune from criticism or moral evaluation. Rather, I suggest that understanding should precede judgment. Anthropologists have long argued that understanding another culture requires temporarily setting aside one’s own assumptions. Temporal relativity proposes extending that same intellectual discipline across time. Before asking whether historical societies lived according to our standards, we should first ask how they understood themselves according to theirs.
Whether temporal relativity ultimately proves to be a useful concept is, of course, open to discussion. My intention is not to introduce a new historical methodology but to offer an anthropological perspective on historical interpretation. Just as cultural relativism encourages us to recognize that different societies construct different systems of meaning, temporal relativity encourages us to recognize that different historical periods often inhabited fundamentally different moral and intellectual worlds. Understanding those worlds on their own terms, I believe, allows us not only to understand the past more accurately but also to better recognize the historical assumptions that shape our own present.
References
Boas, F. (1940). Race, language and culture. University of Chicago Press.
Herskovits, M. J. (1972). Cultural relativism: Perspectives in cultural pluralism. Random House.
Novick, P. (1988). That noble dream: The “objectivity question” and the American historical profession. Cambridge University Press.
Tosh, J. (2015). The pursuit of history: Aims, methods and new directions in the study of history (6th ed.). Routledge.
Why Teaching Requires More Than Pedagogy
By Katherine Walter
On May 16, 2025
In educational institutions
Created with ChatGPT
As someone who holds a Master’s degree in Anthropology, I entered the world of education with both passion and purpose. While my primary focus was cultural anthropology, I—like every graduate in the discipline—was trained in all four subfields: cultural, linguistic, archaeological, and biological anthropology. That meant I not only studied cultures and societies, but also the scientific method, human evolution, genetics, and the biological roots of human behavior. I came to education with a deep respect for science and evidence-based learning.
This is why, during an assignment as a substitute teacher in a high school science class in Illinois, I was shocked when the regular teacher told me—without hesitation—that “scientific theories are not factual.” He dismissed evolution as “make believe,” clearly unaware that a scientific theory is one of the highest forms of scientific understanding—built upon repeated observation, experimentation, and peer review. Evolution is the cornerstone of modern biology, not a matter of personal belief.
This isn’t a harmless slip-up. This is a fundamental failure in teacher preparation. It’s not enough to teach students how to learn if we’re giving them incorrect or ideologically distorted content. I’ve read critiques arguing that college should be limited to learning within one’s major, and that students should have mastered foundational knowledge in high school. The reality is, many high school students aren’t mastering those foundations—because their teachers are not adequately prepared to teach them.
Too many teacher preparation programs emphasize methods over mastery. Aspiring educators are trained extensively in classroom management, differentiated instruction, and educational theory—yet not always required to have a deep command of the subjects they will teach. In some cases, they’re licensed to teach science with little more than a generalist background.
And the problem doesn’t end with science.
I was working toward my teaching license through a Master of Arts in Teaching (MAT) program when I encountered another systemic problem—this time around sex education. I have a sex-positive stance, one rooted in both personal conviction and research-based evidence. In one health class I observed, students were assigned to budget for the costs of raising a newborn. It was clear the goal was to instill fear—to use financial anxiety as a scare tactic to promote abstinence. But studies have consistently shown that abstinence-only education not only fails to prevent teen pregnancy and STIs but can also be psychologically harmful, particularly to students who do become young parents.
Sexual health education should be empowering and factual, not shame-driven. But when I expressed my concerns, I encountered resistance—not just from individual educators, but from the institution itself.
Things came to a head when a student created a video montage of several posts from my account on X (formerly Twitter). These were not instructional posts. They were personal, blunt statements about my sexual desires—an expression of my identity as a sex-positive transgender woman and my belief that it is okay to have sexual feelings as a man or trans woman who is attracted to men. These posts were part of my advocacy: normalizing desire, refusing shame, and affirming the validity of trans and queer sexuality.
The school’s administration didn’t see it that way. Despite my academic progress and professional goals, my student teaching was terminated by the principal and HR. The university I was attending stated that they supported me—but they offered no legal or practical assistance in dealing with the district. Ultimately, I was left to fend for myself, and I made the painful decision to withdraw from the MAT program.
This experience left me disillusioned but not without resolve. It exposed not only the institutional discomfort with sex positivity and LGBTQ+ inclusion, but also a broader systemic issue: we are not preparing teachers who are content experts, nor are we protecting those who challenge outdated or harmful norms. We are failing both our educators and our students.
This is why I firmly believe that the time has come to rethink our entire approach to public education. In today’s complex and fast-paced world, a high school diploma is no longer sufficient preparation for the workforce—or for responsible citizenship. I believe a community college education should become the new baseline, just as a high school diploma was once considered the minimum requirement. Community colleges offer an affordable, accessible means of deepening one’s understanding of science, mathematics, communication, and civic literacy. They can provide a critical bridge to more specialized training and help ensure that our future educators, health workers, and citizens are equipped with both knowledge and critical thinking skills.
We need teachers who understand evolution, who can explain the scientific method, who are prepared to address the realities of human sexuality without resorting to fear or shame. We need school districts that protect educators from ideological purges, and universities that do more than offer symbolic support when their students face political or cultural backlash.
I may have been pushed out of the MAT program, but I have not given up on education. I still believe deeply in the power of teaching—and in the need for radical reform in how we prepare those who take on that responsibility.
Our students deserve teachers who are not only caring and skilled, but who actually know what they’re talking about. Anything less is a betrayal of their potential.