
Issue of
November 11, 1998
 

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What matters to
Clifford Barnett
BY KATHLEEN O'TOOLE
An earthquake triggered a
glacier slide that caused a lake to overflow and collapse
a new hydroelectric dam. Clifford Barnett and other
anthropology graduate students who were supposed to study
how people adapted to the dam's influence on their lives
suddenly found themselves instead growing potatoes at
12,000 feet in the Andes.
Barnett, who is now a
professor of anthropology at Stanford, was part of the
controversial Vicos, Peru, project in 1953, the first in
which anthropologists, usually sideline observers,
assumed the power position, running a mountain valley
hacienda upon which 2,300 villagers depended. Barnett
told of the experience and its subsequent influence on
him at an Oct. 28 talk in Memorial Church. The event was
one in the "What Matters to Me and Why" series,
in which faculty members and others invited by a student
committee discuss the more personal side of their
academic lives.
Raised in a tough
industrial section of Queens, Barnett studied
anthropology at City University of New York and later at
Cornell. The Vicos project began after the dam collapsed,
he said, when students working with Professor Alan
Holmberg needed something to study. They assumed the
lease of a bankrupt hacienda, one that ran very much like
its medieval counterparts with all the men in the village
required to work in the padrone's fields three days a
week in return for keeping their own small plots on the
steepest part of the slopes. "Our goal was to
develop the hacienda into a self-governing community,
something we never expected would take us 10 years to
accomplish."
The academic landlords
insisted the villagers spend one day a week building a
school for their children, rather than working the
landlord's fields, a requirement regarded with total
suspicion until books arrived for the school. His Vicos
experience, as well as others working in the Bay Area and
on southwestern Indian reservations, taught Barnett that
power is always suspect, he said, and that
"self-determination is critical. You can help people
by providing them with information, but ultimately it
must be their doing, and they won't always decide what
you like."
Barnett came to Stanford
in 1964 as a professor of anthropology with a part-time
appointment in pediatrics at Stanford Medical Center.
"I love kids and wore bow ties like the
pediatricians," he said with a laugh. His mission
was to help medically trained personnel adapt their
technology to the needs of their patients, something he
already had done by introducing the first paramedics to a
sparsely populated Navajo reservation in New Mexico. The
paramedics often worked alongside chanters, traditional
Navajo healers.
Physicians sometimes think
he is urging them not to try to change any of the
behaviors or beliefs of their patients, even ones that
the physicians believe are harmful to their patients'
health, he said. "That doesn't fit with my view of
cultural relativity."
Instead, he said, he
believes that people can adapt valuable practices and
beliefs from other cultures but "they must have the
freedom to choose, to decide for themselves what they
will accept or what they reject. I value
self-determination, even if, from my vantage point,
people will learn by making mistakes."
Barnett said he never
intended to become an academic and that he tries to
choose his projects so that they provide both theoretical
insights into the human condition and some practical
benefits to the people involved, such as a study in which
he found that allowing parents into natal intensive care
units was beneficial for the babies. "You can have
your cake and eat it too," he said. He also does
public service work, such as teaching high school
students on a Hopi reservation. An anthropologist
adjusts, he said, to being a person "on the
margins" of the cultures he or she works with.
He advised students not to
make potential future earnings the basis for choosing
their careers. Every job has "scut work," he
said, which is difficult to do unless you get pleasure
from the work overall. When he began, not even the
government considered anthropology a valuable skill, he
said, but he has managed to live comfortably while loving
his work. SR
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