It’s been
thirty years since I began thinking about archaeology as a subject of
sociological inquiry. It’s time for some
reflection, a summation of a long process. To me, archaeology just isn’t what it used to
be. It’s not “happening” as much as it
should.
In the early
1980s I played the role of ethnographer.
In the summer of 1983 I did my first ethnographic stint at an
archaeological field camp. I returned in
1984 as well. After that, I went to work
as an archaeologist because it was the easiest way to find employment, and more
graduate school was not appealing. The
late ‘80s was when I became an “archaeologist,” although I never really thought
of myself as that. I was, and always
have been, a “student of the human condition.” Ethnography, archaeology, financial services,
are windows into it.
Initially, I
started out as a migrant field technician—instead of shovel bum, we had a more derogatory term for ourselves in those
years (dig-roes, not very polite,
then or now). By 1988, I became the
vaunted Principle Investigator or PI. From
1989 through 1996, I dug--meaning I directed large crews in the excavation of--several
sites, mostly block excavations or trenches. I became a master of soils, stratigraphy, and
features. Today, my trowel is rusty but
I still know good archaeology when I see it.
As they say, “once a PI, always a PI”.
A new show
on the National Geographic channel (The '80s: The Decade That Made Us) glorifies that decade. As a nation, we went from people mostly
living within their means--plain living and high thinking--to “shop until you
drop” with Madonna screaming that she was a material girl. We went from Apollonian intellectualism to
Dionysian crass materialism. Dionysian intellectualism
was a possible option but big corporations and the political far right chose to
take us into crass materialism and anti-intellectualism. Science was taken off its pedestal and
stomped on by everyone (except those few scientists who continued to believe in
its righteousness). If you believe in
scientism today, you are on the fringe.
In the ‘80s,
America was in the last third of the Fourth Awakening. Collectively, our brains were on fire with
the right and left hemispheres fighting for control. Entropy was high. Like the two decades before, it was a
tumultuous time. I remember some riots
and, at graduate school, even marches and demonstrations for some unremembered cause. In Montana, there were anti-government skinheads
blowing up cars in Missoula and they shot a cop. In ‘85 or ‘86 , while out to do an
archaeological survey for a timber sale, I got to drive a nice green Forest
Service truck into a camp of skinheads, wearing bandoliers, and grinning as
they generally pointed their guns my way.
I didn’t stay. After the Ruby
Ridge incident, the Northwest quieted down.
Obviously,
the big mega change has been the transformation from an Apollonian culture of
circa 1920-1960 to our now fully Dionysian one, 1990-present. (The Fourth Awakening was 1960 to 1990). The right hemisphere won the struggle. Today, intuition rules everything we do. The second age of reason, modernism, is 90
percent gone. The last ten percent is
legacy stuff. No one really cares about
critical thinking or building a good linear argument. Such things reek of days gone by.
In archaeology,
many things have changed since the ‘80s.
In terms of techniques and technologies, the big change has been
computers. We used to make field notes
by hand with pen or pencil; now there are computers in the field. We once wrote field diaries; I haven’t heard
that idea in a long time. We used to use
typewriters to do our reports; now it is all computers. We once tried to be good photographers, using
expensive cameras, and knew the usages and settings of color, black and white,
and slides. Today, we use cheep digital cameras
and just point and shoot. In the ’80s
people dabbled with clunky video cameras; now every small cell phone is a movie
maker. We were once amateur mapmakers,
using leveled transits and rod. Then
came laser transits and rod. Now it is
just all about GPS and GIS. Once we were
excellent at land navigation, could read a topographic map, use a compass, and
used our cognitive maps to find our way home.
Today, we depend on gizmos.
In the ‘80s
large excavations with large crews used to be common. In 1987, at the Fort Union project, we had
about 45 people. Next, at Addison Plantation,
there were a few more. Large open area excavation
was the way to get it done. I continued
that with my own projects. Next, briefly,
we used widespread random testing (because random sampling was scientific). Today, we do limited targeted testing, or nothing. A few academics do small excavations; in the
world of CRM, excavation is done only in emergencies or for inadvertent
discoveries.
In the 1980s
there wasn’t a collections or curation crisis. We had plenty of space because we put stuff
anywhere we could, in garages, basements, or storage sheds. Then came 36 CFR 79, in 1990, and everyone had
to comply with professional museum standards to store collections. Since compliance to these standards is
expensive, few facilities were built and a crisis was created. Lack of compliant storage space also supports
our decision to not excavate. I am not
opposed to museum standards but much of the stuff we excavate doesn’t need to
be stored forever or doesn’t need climate controlled space.
In the ‘80s we
once thought that chemical and biological studies would be extremely
helpful. The answer is a mixed bag. We used to take soil acidity samples, sampled
for phytoliths and pollen, and wished that blood residue studies would come
back with “human” rather than the ubiquitous “deer”. When you make a big effort to find seeds in
hearths and all you ever get is chenopodium, then what good is it? Maybe these studies are just a luxury now. Since excavation is now limited, so are the extra
studies.
The perspectives
of archaeology have changed as well. There
was a big debate, the processual versus post-processual one. Of course, that was the shift from Apollo to
Dionysus as a leading metaphor. Some
folks still call themselves scientists but the kind of science conducted is different. Dionysian science allows the nonlinear and
chaos perspectives to thrive. In the old
days, the Clovis First theory was paramount; now it is widely accepted that
some type of pre Clovis occupations occurred in North America. Tied to this conception is the mono or multi
migration route debate. Once I understood
that Australia was inhabited 60 thousand years ago, the mono route via the Bering
Strait made no sense and I agreed with the multi route perspective and with a
multitude of pre-Columbian contacts. People
don’t stay put. They move around.
Some perspectives
haven’t changed. Archaeologists are still
of the mindset that older is better; most struggle with the material culture of
the twentieth century. Additionally,
like most Americans, they fuss about the moral and ethical issues around the
concept of Firsts. If someone is a First
what claims do they have? Should they
have any claims? First born, first to
scoop the story, First Americans--Why does First matter?
Today, the
social context of archaeology is very different. In the ‘80s the GI and Silent generations
were still very active; as collectivists they portrayed a sense of common
purpose across the profession. Now, with
the Boomers and Gen X generations dominating the field, strong individualism undermines
illusions of common purpose. Additionally,
back then, archaeologists were heroes because Indy was new and popular; now
they are shovel bums with fedoras wishing Indy wasn’t so old. Indy is a powerful icon but another can
replace him. Lara Croft won’t do it; she is too sexy and is
a thief of time. For a while Daniel Jackson
of the Stargate franchise seemed to
be appealing because he is actually a good metaphor for CRM archaeology
(archaeological consultant to the government who helps solve everyday
problems). Unfortunately, CRM has become
stale and directionless, a jobs program, another example of the ponzie schemes
rampant in America.
After the
economic scare of 2008-2010 that unemployed so many archaeologists, it seems
that most are working again. Or, another
way to put it, I don’t know any unemployed archaeologists at the moment. Good for all of us, we have jobs. I still believe the profession is at risk
from severe external forces, that political-economic hell is coming. The earlier shock was a vanguard; the next one
will be the great test. We may not have
jobs in the future.
However, working
as an archaeologist also isn’t what it used to be. In the early 1990s I worked for Fairfax County,
Virginia; my title was initially Historian then it changed to Heritage Resource
Specialist. I did my best to always have
an excavation underway or planned, and I enabled others to do excavations. Archaeology was about digging and research. I didn’t care what my title was. I wasn’t a preservationist.
Today,
ironically, I have a job title and a business card that say I am an
archaeologist. My job is best described
as heritage resource specialist. I work
in the preservationist world. Along with
many other things, I do think about and assess archaeological sites, I review
survey reports, I communicate with tribes, I draft environmental documents, and
I research issues of historic preservation law.
In depth archaeological research is incidental to my duties and I do my
best work when I ensure that archaeological excavation does not happen. In the eight years I have been a federal “archeologist”
(without the “a”) there have been many surveys and a few test projects but no excavations
enabled by me. I have done my preservationist
job and ensured that sites have been avoided and preserved in situ (in place).
Today, CRM archaeology
is all about pedestrian survey with a little bit of test units on the
side. CRM has been reduced to locating
and avoiding archaeological sites because, under historic preservation guidelines
(36 CFR 800), excavation is considered an adverse effect, no different from destruction
by bull dozing. And avoiding adverse
effects is what we in the preservation field do.
I also
notice, at conferences, that academics are spending more time re-studying old
collections than making new ones, especially if the project is about Native
American antiquity.
It seems
that excavation has fallen out of favor in American archaeology. The preservation ethos, the adverse effect
indictment, the sensitivity to tribes, and the curation crisis, all lead to the
decision of “don’t excavate.” American archaeologists
just don’t make it happen, contrary to what European archaeologist Martin Carver
(2011) advocates.
I wish I had
numbers to compare the ‘80s to today but I don’t. My gut feeling and my anecdotal evidence is
that the amount of dirt excavated today is minuscule compared to what it used
to be. It’s possible that we are
surveying more acres than then but we aren’t doing the digging we once did. It is a sad observation.
Like most
Americans, I believe that archaeology is about digging. It isn’t about survey, record, and avoid. Preservation isn’t archaeology.
Reference
Carver, Martin
2011 Making
Archaeology Happen: Design Versus Dogma. Walnut Creek, CA: Left Coast Press.
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