Editorial.
Scarre, Chris
The summer of 2015 marks the seventieth anniversary of one of the
tragic turning points in recent human history: the detonation of the two
atomic bombs at Hiroshima and Nagasaki on 6 and 9 August 1945. Those
events were soon followed by the Cold War and the build-up of nuclear
arsenals capable of obliterating the world population several times
over.
Cold War bunkers, missile silos and test sites all form part of
'atomic age archaeology'. In September 2014, George Johnson
writing for National Geographic drew up a list of '8 places that
showcase atomic age archaeology for tourists'. They include
locations directly connected with the invention of this devastating new
weapon: Ellis Avenue at the University of Chicago and Los Alamos in New
Mexico where the research was carried out, and the Trinity Site south of
Los Alamos where the first atomic bomb was exploded. They also include
the harrowing memorials of Hiroshima and Nagasaki, and Bikini Atoll in
the Marshall Islands where islanders were ruthlessly displaced to make
way for underwater tests in the 1940s and 1950s. Failed attempts to
clean up the nuclear fallout and allow the islanders to return have left
it "a destination for divers, who can explore the sunken wreckage
and lament the Bikinians' fate". (1)
The physical legacy of the Cold War has become a specialist focus
for some archaeologists. With the fall of the Berlin Wall in 1989, many
military sites went out of use and began to decay. This prompted a first
wave of fieldwork, to record what became a rapidly deteriorating
archaeological record. The Berlin Wall itself was a subject of
archaeological enquiry (see Antiquity 67: 709-33). (2) Meanwhile, here
in the UK, English Heritage commissioned a survey of the surviving
remains of buildings and bunkers. Although structures designed to
withstand nuclear attack were (not surprisingly) in no imminent danger,
the survey concluded that many of the more ephemeral features would soon
disappear (.Antiquity 76: 664-66). (3)
In the USA, the historic districts of Frenchman Flat and Apple-2,
part of the Nevada test site, furnish a material legacy of many
atmospheric and underground nuclear tests. Here, Colleen Beck of the
Desert Research Institute has carried out a long-running project
cataloguing and recording the remains of the various structures built
specially to test the effects of a nuclear blast on different kinds of
materials. Over 650 buildings, structures and objects associated with
nuclear testing have been recorded, along with some exploring the use of
nuclear technology for peaceful purposes. The entire landscape is a
remarkable testimony to the post-war condition. (4)
[ILLUSTRATION OMITTED]
For archaeology, as we know, one unexpected outcome of the nuclear
bomb was the development of radiometric dating techniques. O.G.S.
Crawford, founder and first editor of Antiquity, began his editorial
notes for September 1949 with a striking announcement:
A discovery has been made in America which may be of the greatest
use to archaeologists. It consists of a method of dating dead
pieces of formerly living substances (such as wood and bone) by
means of their radiocarbon content. (5)
Less encouragingly, he continued: "The details are highly
technical and beyond the comprehension of those who are not
specialists". The technique he was describing was (of course)
radiocarbon dating, a cornerstone of modern archaeology.
Crawford summarised the results of Libby's initial results,
dating wooden objects from ancient Egypt. Subsequently, the method
underwent a series of refinements, notably tree-ring calibration in the
1960s, and then the introduction of the AMS technique in the 1980s,
which enabled much smaller samples to be dated. More recently still,
there has been a further 'revolution', with the introduction
of Bayesian statistical analysis allowing radiometric dating results to
be combined directly with archaeological information. As Buck and
colleagues wrote in Antiquity almost 25 years ago, Bayesian statistics
have "wide applicability to radiocarbon determinations from sites
where good information exists about the relationship between the events
being dated" (Buck et al. Antiquity 65: 819). (6)
Bayesian analysis has been applied with great success to a growing
variety of prehistoric subjects, including British Neolithic long
barrows, Catalhoyuk, Hawaiian temples and Great Zimbabwe, many of them
featured in Antiquity. In the current issue, Nenad Tasic and colleagues
report the results of a further application of this technique to the
impressive prehistoric tell-settlement of Vinca-Belo Brdo in Serbia, on
the banks of the River Danube. Vinca was one of the sites that helped
fix the prehistoric chronology of Europe for Gordon Childe in The Danube
in prehistory and The dawn of European civilization, almost a century
ago. Its 10m-high stratigraphy of successive occupation layers made it
key to unravelling the prehistoric sequence of south-east and Central
Europe in the decades before absolute dating methods were available.
That deep stratigraphy also makes it an ideal subject today for the
application of Bayesian chronological modelling.
Tell sites are a common feature of south-west Asia, but in Europe
they are largely confined to the Balkans and the south-east; they do not
spread far into Central Europe. Where they do occur, however, they all
too easily steal centre stage through their size and prominence. A
ploughed-out settlement buried in a field can hardly compete for visual
impact with a 10m-high settlement mound. But for all their visibility,
it would be entirely wrong to conclude that every Neolithic denizen of
south-east Europe lived on a tell--many people did not, and,
furthermore, the tell settlements themselves did not last beyond the end
of the Late Neolithic. What caused them to be abandoned? The new dating
programme reveals that at Vinca-Belo Brdo the end was associated with
dramatic conflagrations. Within a space of only 25 years, perhaps even
less, houses on top of the tell were twice burned to the ground. The
precise chronology now available is vital to understanding the sequence
of events, but it does not in itself show us how these fires were
caused. Aggression is at least one possibility. Did the Vinca community
collapse in a maelstrom of violence and insecurity? Or were these merely
accidents, kitchen fires, fanned by the wind to consume entire
neighbourhoods? At all events, nobody returned to rebuild.
Given the huge potential of AMS radiocarbon dating, applicable to
smaller and smaller samples at lower and lower costs, coupled with
clever statistical modelling, it is a sobering thought that all may not
continue to be well, at least not as far as samples of relatively recent
age are concerned. Yet such is the warning sounded by Heather Graven of
Imperial College London. Writing recently in the Proceedings of the
National Academy of Sciences, she points out that the massive increase
in fossil C[O.sub.2] emissions over the past century is ageing the
atmosphere artificially. C[O.sub.2] released by fossil fuels has lost
virtually all of its [sup.14]C. It constitutes an increasingly large
proportion of the earth's atmospheric C[O.sub.2], which is absorbed
by living things. As levels of fossil fuel C[O.sub.2] continue to rise,
those living things will begin to have [sup.14]C signatures equivalent
to archaeological samples of up to 2000 years old. As Graven concludes,
"For archaeological or other items that are found without
sufficient context to rule out a modern origin, radiocarbon dating will
give ambiguous results". (7) That might not matter for many
archaeological samples, but it could have a profound impact on
forensics, for example. What if one were unable to distinguish between a
recently deceased murder victim and an individual who perished several
centuries ago?
Mummies at home?
Fossil fuel emissions may complicate the future of the recent past,
but for bodies long dead they should not pose a problem. Those bodies,
however, come with their own attendant complexities. The skeleton we
excavate is the product of both taphonomic transformations and cultural
manipulation. It is, indeed, very much an artefact, but one whose
post-mortem trajectory may be very difficult to reconstruct from the
remains as they stand. Consider, for example, the account of one burial
custom in Western Australia, described by a colonial official just over
a century ago:
At Princess Charlotte Bay, although every effort is made to prevent
a fatal termination to sickness or accident within the precincts of a
camp, by removing the moribund patient to a distance, there appears to
be no compunction about bringing the corpse back immediately after
death, and temporarily burying it well within the camping ground. [...]
After some three or four days, when the friends and relatives who have
been sent for are gathered round, the body is exhumed, and packed up in
a piece of bark, the ends of which overlap like a tongue, while the
sides are sewn across in single boot-lace style. In this fashion the
corpse is carried about from camp to camp for a long period, many months
maybe, indeed until such time as the deceased tells his brother, uncle,
etc., who it was that doomed or put him to death (Roth 1907: 371). (8)
A little later, the same writer tells us of the Torilla or Pine
Mountain. Here the custom was to bury the body of an adult male in a
shallow grave half a mile from the camp; after decomposition, the bones
were disinterred and deposited in a triangular aperture cut in a hollow
tree.
Such behaviours are going to be hard to recognise from
archaeological remains, but careful observation and innovative analysis
can sometimes reveal that burial practices in the past--even the
prehistoric past--were just as complex. Witness the story revealed by
Thomas Booth and co-authors (pp. 1155-73). It was a considerable
surprise to learn a few years ago that two Bronze Age skeletons
excavated beneath Late Bronze Age roundhouses on South Uist, a small
island off the west coast of Scotland, had been mummified (Antiquity
2005: 529-46). (9) Further surprise was occasioned by the discovery that
these were not complete bodies but composites, in which parts of several
different individuals were combined together. The Merina of Madagascar
practise unusual (and to our minds rather gruesome) customs in which the
fully or partially decomposed remains of dead kinsfolk are rewrapped and
recombined during occasional famadihana ceremonies (Bloch 1971). (10) It
is possible that some prehistoric communities of north-west Europe did
something similar. But mummifying the dead gives it a whole new
dimension.
Could it have been accidental? Did Scottish island communities
burying bodies in peat bogs discover to their surprise that the
anaerobic burial environment preserved them? Maybe so, but Booth et
al.'s analysis of Bronze Age skeletons from Britain reveals that
almost half of them displayed Oxford Histological Index scores typical
of mummification, including burials from lowland southern England, a
long way from the Bronze Age peatlands of the north and west. Hence this
was no accident. Some bodies may have been mummified by submerging them
in wetlands, others preserved by smoking. All that survives today are
the skeletons--the preservative effects were far from permanent. There
is certainly nothing to match the well-known mummified corpses from
Egypt or Peru. But they appear to form a distinct tradition, one that
was current for most of the British Bronze Age. This should make us
think more carefully about the bones we encounter in excavations. Did
these communities keep their mummified ancestors in special shrines? It
is an evocative image, far removed from our modern Western preoccupation
with keeping death at a distance.
Peer review--an ongoing debate
There has been renewed discussion recently about the efficacy of
the peer-reviewing process that is used by most academic journals. The
Times Higher Education ran an article in August recounting notable cases
where it had not worked well, presenting a range of views from authors
and reviewers across a variety of disciplines. (11) There are evidently
some who dislike or mistrust it, just as there are many others who
support it. But long gone are the days when an editor would decide
whether to accept a paper for publication merely on the basis of his or
her own opinion. Seeking specialist advice is essential if editorial
decisions are to be appropriately informed--not only because many of the
papers a journal receives for consideration fall far outside one
individual's area of expertise, but also to maintain a sense of
perspective and impartiality.
We are acutely aware that reviewer comments can sometimes be
robust, but we seek to ensure that they are fair and constructive, and I
hope we mostly achieve that. Nobody of course likes to receive
disappointing news, and pressure on space as well as academic evaluation
means inevitably that we are unable to accept all the papers that we
receive. Our hope nonetheless is that the peer review comments--whether
papers are accepted or declined--can be viewed as a positive feature,
both in informing and explaining our decisions to authors and in helping
them strengthen and improve what they have written. We are therefore
extremely grateful to all of our peer reviewers, who perform an
essential service--not only for the Antiquity editorial team, but also
for all our authors and readers.
doi: 10.15184/aqy.2015.133
Chris Scarre
Durham, 1 October 2015
(1) Johnson, G. 2014. 8 places that showcase atomic age archaeology
for tourists. National Geographic. 17 September 2014.
(2) Baker, F. 1993. The Berlin Wall: production, preservation and
consumption of a 20th-century monument. Antiquity 67: 709-33.
(3) James, N. 2002. The Cold War. Antiquity 76: 664-66.
(4) Beck, C.M. 2014. Nevada test site, in Smith, C. (ed.)
Encyclopedia of global archaeology. 5247-52. New York: Springer.
(5) Crawford, O.G.S. 1949. Editorial. Antiquity 91: 113.
(6) Buck, C.E., J.B. Kenworthy, C.D. Littonal & A.F.M. Smith.
1991. Combining archaeological and radiocarbon information: a Bayesian
approach to calibration. Antiquity 65: 819.
(7) Graven, H.D. 2015. Impact of fossil fuel emissions on
atmospheric radiocarbon and various applications of radiocarbon over
this century. Proceedings of the National Academy of Sciences USA 112:
9542-45.
(8) Roth, W.E. 1907. North Queensland ethnography. Bulletin 9.
Burial ceremonies and disposal of the dead. Records of the Australian
Museum 6: 365-403.
(9) Parker Pearson, M., A. Chamberlain, O. Craig, P. Marshall, J.
Mulville, H. Smith, C. Chenery, M. Collins, G. Cook, G. Craig, J. Evans,
J. Hiller, J. Montgomery, J.-L. Schwenninger, G. Taylor & T. Wess.
2005. Evidence for mummification in Bronze Age Britain. Antiquity 79:
529-46.
(10) Bloch, M. 1971. Placing the dead: tombs, ancestral villages,
and kinship organization in Madagascar. London: Seminar Press.
(11) Times Higher Education. The worst piece of peer review
I've ever received, 6 August 2015. Available at:
https://www.timeshighereducation.co.uk/features/the-worst-piece-of-peer-review-ive-ever-received (accessed 27 August 2015).