The possibility that our hunter-gatherer ancestors might not endure an unremitting struggle against the elements first came to public attention in the 1966. It followed a series of studies conducted by a Canadian anthropologist, Richard Borshay Lee, among the Ju/’hoansi “bushmen” of the northeast of southern Africa’s Kalahari. He was surprised to learn that Ju/’hoansi spent only 15 hours a week securing their nutritional requirements. Given that in 1966 the 40-hour week had only recently been introduced for federal workers in the United States, these figures appeared extraordinary. It was on the basis of this and subsequent work by anthropoligists — notably Marshall Sahlins in his 1972 book, “Stone Age Economics” — that Ju/hoansi and other similar hunting and gathering people came to be referred to as “the original affluent society.”

Subsequent research produced a more nuanced picture of the Ju/’haonsi’s affluence. It showed that they had an unyielding confidence in the providence of their environments and the knowledge of how to exploit this. As a result, they only ever procured enough food to meet their immediate needs confident that there was always more available, much like busy urbanites with empty refrigerators who get food on the go when they are hungry. This research also revealed that even though Ju/’hoansi did not have to work particularly hard, they were neither indolent nor bereft of purpose. They found profound satisfaction from the work they did and used of their free time to make music, create art, make jewelry, tell stories, play games, relax and socialize.

What was most compelling about this research was that it suggested that “economic problem” was neither universal nor the primary problem of the human race from the beginnings of time. For where the economic problem holds that we have unlimited wants and limited means, Ju/’hoansi hunter-gatherers had few wants that were easily met.

It is only very recently that the evolutionary importance of this work has become clear. New genomic research as well as a series of recent archaeological finds in southern Africa suggest that the hunter-gatherer lifestyle practiced by the Ju/’haonsi extends back much further in time than was previously thought. Genomic data now indicates that our species has been around for more than 200,000 years and, if the recent discovery of a distinctly Homo sapiens-like jawbone in Morocco stands up to scrutiny, there is case to push this date back beyond 300,000 years. Genomic data also suggests that the Ju/’hoansi and their broader genetic community — the Khoisan — have been hunting and gathering successfully in southern Africa for a significant proportion of human history. There is evidence to suggest that highly refined hunting technologies used by modern Ju/’hoansi hunters stretches back at least 45,000 years and possibly as far back as 90,000 years ago.

If the success of a civilization is judged primarily on its endurance over time, then the Ju/hoansi’s ancestors’ achievements render those of the ancient Egyptians, the Mayans or even the Victorians, mere novelties. It is difficult to be absolutely certain about how the Ju/’hoansi’s ancestors lived, but there is plenty more evidence to suggest that they were a lot like 20th century Ju/’hoansi and very little evidence to suggest that they were particularly different from them. And if the Ju/’hoansi are a good analog for how our ancestors lived, then this has implications for understanding our “natures” and how we respond to challenges like automation.

When Keynes bemoaned the “habits and instincts” bred into us over countless generations, he echoed a vision of human nature that existed long before economists determined that work was the elementary particle of human endeavor and that the economic problem was as much part of who we are as our instinct to fall in love. Now the evidence points to the Neolithic revolution as the genesis of the “economic problem.” For while agriculture was far more productive, it exposed rapidly growing populations to a new range of potentially catastrophic risks that inspired a range of innovations but that first and foremost placed a premium on human labor. For no matter how favorable the elements, farming requires plenty of hard work before it yields any rewards at all, and the consequences of not working are dire.