Why Have a Hairless Face?

The Face: A Natural History
by Daniel McNeill

(Page 3 of 12)

We treasure smooth facial skin and can respond very badly to interruptions in it like acne and wrinkles. A particular grotesquerie is hair all over the face, the rare "werewolf" syndrome. Yet hair coats the faces of most mammals. We have a bare face, and this apparently trivial fact has shaped our very nature.

It goes back to primates. According to a tale in the Popol Vuh, the Mayan creation epic, the gods' first attempt to populate the earth resulted in people with "dry faces." The gods deemed these wooden specimens a first draft and tried to expunge them. Their descendants inhabit the jungles today: monkeys.

Monkeys are far from wooden, of course. They are quicksilver creatures, agile, social, ceaselessly achatter. And their "dry" or naked faces can stand out strikingly, isles of color amid fur. It is an innovation, for their immediate forebears, the prosimians like lemurs and lorises, have hairy faces.

What chased the pelt away? A big clue lies in the upper lip, where a second change occurs. In most mammals, the upper lip clings tightly to the gums. That's why no real cat will ever grin like Garfield, and why a title like The Jaguar's Smile implies fantasia.

But in monkeys the upper lip is free and moves about deftly. It lets the countenance take a plethora of shapes, and each can be a signal. The face thus grows more articulate. And since these signals must be visible, the fur withdrew. Our faces are bare so others can read them.

Prosimians show the alternative. They communicate mainly by odor. A ring-tailed lemur (Lemur catta), for example, will scent its tail and swirl it about to disperse messages. The aroma wafts out slowly and it dallies. The signal is a drone.

But the naked face is a dance of meaning. For instance, a monkey ready for fun will show a "play-face," a near-grin that displays the lower teeth. Others see it instantly, and a second expression can follow at once. Hence these animals convey far more every minute. It's like the difference between smoke signals and live video.

The earth abounds with social creatures like dogs and lions, and they too have face signals. But the smooth face greatly expanded the vocabulary, made messages clearer, subtler, and more varied. It hooked monkeys into a dense, rapid information web and led to supersocial creatures. Chimps console each other and play intricate political games, for instance, and we humans are virtuosos of cooperation. Our ability to gauge trust and work with others depends partly on the face, and it has let us farm, mine, and wire the earth, beat back predators and disease, and dwell in rich cities and suburbs. The hairless face was a first step to civilization.

© 1998 by Daniel McNeill

About the Author

Daniel McNeill is a bestselling author and winner of the Los Angeles Times Book Prize for The Face. Mr. McNeill is the principal author of Fuzzy Logic, which won the 1992-93 Los Angeles Times Book Prize for Science and Technology. He has written numerous other books and articles on high technology, and his work has also appeared in fiction, travel, history, law, and education publications. He lives in Southern California.