You bring up a good point. However I come back with the opinion that "superstition" is the precursor to "philosophy" and both are derived from the route of religion, which is a repetative series of actions, causing us to remember...
I don't know...
I'm afraid I can't get past seeing philosophy as a discipline, and not a great deal older than 500BC. We're talking between 30 and 5 thousand BC.
Even taking into account Taoist alchemy and calling that philosophy, it still only takes us back to around 2 thousand BC or thereabouts.
You raise an interesting point, I think Tao was alluding to earlier, what I would consider education and / or learning. But I still can find little differentiation when I consider how more modern animist tribes hold "learning" to be a sacred religious enterprise.
Making fire isn't about striking two rocks together. Making fire is about being blessed with the knowledge from (insert source of choice here), about being blessed with finding the correct stones, about sharing and being shown the "correct" way (which may or may not hold some unrelated but superstitious elements to it), and being blessed with the fire to cook and warm oneself and family.
And it wasn't just about making fire. This frame of mind, this attitude about communion with spirit, or communion with nature if that seems more appropriate (though less accurate), extended throughout every facet of prehistoric life.
Life was tough. Nothing could be taken for granted.
Yes, there is an element of rote to ritual. Fundamentally rote and ritual are the same. *If* learning / philosophy could realistically be distinguished by distinguishing what was rote from what was ritual, there might be a case to make, IMO.
From what I have gleaned from looking at various animist societies, that distinction cannot be made because rote and ritual are one and the same in animist societies. Speaking generically, because the animist sees "G-d" or spirit in everything, then everything is religious by definition. If it takes hammering two stones together, then two gifts of the "stone spirit" are ritualistically hammered together to bring the blessing of the "fire spirit."
Whether one wishes today to infer superstition onto such belief, that is essentially what it seems to me these people were doing. Now, there is a portion of non-superstitious rote learning here, how to strike the two stones together just so to make fire, and over time no doubt the spiritual connotations were filtered out, probably around the same time people gravitated to walled cities and religious institutions came into existence. But in the raw, pure state prior to the move to the city this didn't really exist because so much of nature was imbued in the people's minds with spirit.
And it has long been my contention that there must be something there or the people would not have imbued this spiritual element onto as much as they did. Superstition exists because it works. It doesn't make sense, and over time we rationalize away those things that do not make sense as our knowledge base grows. But superstition persists even today because for some inexplicable (to modern scientific and atheistic minds) reason it does work. Medicine calls it the "placebo effect." Even behavioral psychologist B.F. Skinner did some research trying to understand superstition and the gambling drive, neither of which logically make any sense:
Superstition in the pigeon
One of Skinner's experiments examined the formation of superstition in one of his favorite experimental animals, the pigeon. Skinner placed a series of hungry pigeons in a cage attached to an automatic mechanism that delivered food to the pigeon "at regular intervals with no reference whatsoever to the bird's behavior." He discovered that the pigeons associated the delivery of the food with whatever chance actions they had been performing as it was delivered, and that they subsequently continued to perform these same actions.[37]
One bird was conditioned to turn counter-clockwise about the cage, making two or three turns between reinforcements. Another repeatedly thrust its head into one of the upper corners of the cage. A third developed a 'tossing' response, as if placing its head beneath an invisible bar and lifting it repeatedly. Two birds developed a pendulum motion of the head and body, in which the head was extended forward and swung from right to left with a sharp movement followed by a somewhat slower return.[38][39]
Skinner suggested that the pigeons behaved as if they were influencing the automatic mechanism with their "rituals" and that this experiment shed light on human behavior:
The experiment might be said to demonstrate a sort of superstition. The bird behaves as if there were a causal relation between its behavior and the presentation of food, although such a relation is lacking. There are many analogies in human behavior. Rituals for changing one's fortune at cards are good examples. A few accidental connections between a ritual and favorable consequences suffice to set up and maintain the behavior in spite of many unreinforced instances. The bowler who has released a ball down the alley but continues to behave as if she were controlling it by twisting and turning her arm and shoulder is another case in point. These behaviors have, of course, no real effect upon one's luck or upon a ball half way down an alley, just as in the present case the food would appear as often if the pigeon did nothing—or, more strictly speaking, did something else.[38]
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/B.F._Skinner
So while regular reinforcement (Skinner) is an excellent way to teach and has been employed successfully in modern educational systems, it is still somewhat of a mystery as to why people get so *hooked* on gambling if the reinforcement is sporadic and intermittant...same can be said to a degree about superstition, yet it persists as well in human psychology.