Why teach Heisenberg to archaeologists?
Pollard, A.M.
At the beginning of the academic year, one of the many pleasures of
being Head is to welcome new students to the Department. In my
introductory remarks, I like to challenge the new undergraduates to name
a science which has no relevance to archaeology. One can easily go
through the scientific alphabet, from astronomy to zoology, and find
many obvious applications. Alternatively, it is possible to work through
all the Departments of a university and find an archaeological context for at least some of their work. Certain Departments, of course, provide
more of a challenge than others - Environmental Sciences, for example,
is obviously closely related, whereas one has to invoke Icarus or
Leonardo da Vinci to encompass Aeronautical Engineering!
Another measure of the breadth of the modern discipline of
archaeology is to look through one's own reference collection of
journal off-prints, and work out how many different journals are
consulted in the course of research. My own collection, of some 2500
items, encompasses contributions from more than 350 journals, ranging
from Acta Praehistorica et Archaeologica and Advances in Agronomy through to Yearbook of Physical Anthropology and Zeitschrift fur
Rechtsmedizin. Some, such as Nature or ANTIQUITY, are frequent
companions - others may only be sought once in a lifetime. This is not
to be boastful - indeed, many of my colleagues see it as a 'lack of
focus' in research design - but it does show how dispersed and
varied the information of relevance to archaeology can be.
The serious point to be made from these observations is that the
modern discipline of archaeology has recourse to support from an
extremely wide range of scientific, engineering and humanities subjects.
This poses an enormous problem in particular for those departments which
attempt to teach archaeology as a science-based subject - where does one
begin (or, perhaps more importantly, end!)? The recent trend in the UK
for otherwise 'traditional' departments of archaeology to
advertise for an 'archaeological scientist' (discipline
usually unspecified) to join the staff, and then to lay claims to being
a 'science-based department' (a status which may carry certain
financial rewards), would be amusing if it were not a serious indictment
of the state of academic archaeology in the UK. Who would take seriously
the claims of, say, a history department which appointed an
archaeologist (discipline unspecified), and then claimed competence in
the broadest areas of archaeology? It is gratifying to see the
increasing appreciation of the role of science in some sectors of
archaeology, but it has to be accepted that there is a difference
between a commitment (which is costly) and tokenism.
In fact, the academic discipline of archaeology apparently has the
qualities of a chameleon - it can take on almost any appearance,
depending on the 'academic colour' of an individual's
background. The extremes can be, and often are, caricatured. On the one
hand, archaeology can be approached as a 'pure arts' subject -
for example, looking at stylistic and decorative trends in pottery,
metalwork, or art, and sometimes where appropriate integrating this
approach with the writings of the classical authors. This particular
view sometimes tends to downplay the technological aspects associated
with human development, despite the possibility that stylistic
development may be the result of some new technological capability. This
caricature is often taken to represent the 'traditional'
approach in the UK, and is usually the one which the general public
associates with archaeology. Another caricature is that of the social
anthropological archaeologist, who reminds us that archaeology is about
people, not things, and that no 'experiment' can tell us what
was in the minds of our predecessors. At the limit, some
'post-processualists' tell us that all interpretations of the
past are equally valid, and that we are all simply 'telling
stories'. At yet another extreme, archaeology, classified by many
as one of the historical sciences (Embree 1987), can be seen simply as
one particular aspect of quaternary geology - that which considers the
mutual influence of human development and the 'natural'
environment. The raw material for all archaeological research usually
comes from excavation or fieldwork, and this creates a natural affinity
between archaeology, geology and environmental sciences. This approach
usually underplays (or more often ignores completely) the importance of
social behaviour in human society. This particular caricature sometimes
portrays a second-rate scientist seeking a less challenging arena in
which to work. There are, of course, many other positions in between,
and it must always be remembered that, unlike almost any other academic
discipline, there is no clear consensus even within archaeology about
the nature of the discipline itself.
The rise (or, as some would say, the re-emergence) of scientific
archaeology in the 1960s has resulted in a sometimes heated debate in
the UK and elsewhere about the relationship between the natural sciences
and archaeology. The chasm which is now perceived to exist is
encapsulated in the opening statement of the book review by Dunnell
(1993) which is destined to become widely quoted, so I have no
hesitation in repeating it here: 'Many, if not most, archaeologists
regard archaeometry as a sometimes interesting, largely irrelevant, and
definitely optional endeavor'. I would like to spend some time
analysing this view from my own perspective, but from the outset I have
to say that regrettably I accept that this is a true statement, although
obviously there is much more to be said.
The main forum for such debate in the UK has been the annual meeting
of the Theoretical Archaeology Group (TAG), which has over recent years
organised a number of sessions critical of the rise of
'scientism' in archaeology. One of the most coherent critics
has been Julian Thomas (perhaps not surprisingly, since he holds a
B.Tech. in Archaeological Sciences). He makes a number of points about
the current applications of science to archaeology (e.g. in Thomas 1991)
with which I can only agree wholeheartedly. For example -
one can only conclude that archaeological scientists display a
shocking lack of awareness of the philosophy of science.
Sadly true, but how many other scientists are also unaware of the
philosophy of science, but whose lack of knowledge goes unchallenged
because they are 'mainstream'? Yet more:
For archaeological science is not a science as it would be recognised
in the natural sciences. Rather, it is an assemblage of techniques
lacking a coherent epistemology adequate to the tasks to which it might
be expected to aspire.
How true! A friend of mine - a geochemist, and one of the two best
scientists I have ever known - was always amazed that all most
archaeological scientists ever seemed to do was 'analyse
things' (Thomas' 'accretional theory of knowledge').
Some geochemists were also like that, he said, 'but it's not
what grown-ups do' (the full impact can only be obtained by the
application of a strong Australian accent!). As Thomas has said, most
archaeological scientists demonstrate a 'naive empiricism' -
an observation which has been made in various forms by many of the more
critical archaeological scientists over the last few years (e.g. De
Atley & Bishop 1991), but one which has yet to influence decisively
the apparent direction of scientific endeavour in archaeology.
In order to prevent harmony breaking out, let me state my position as
clearly as I can. I do believe that significant elements of what has
masqueraded as science within archaeology over the past 30 years has
lacked the true (but largely undefinable) characteristics of scientific
research. The post-processualist jibe of 'scientism' as
opposed to 'scientific' certainly has some justification. But
wait - the angels are not entirely on the side of post-processualists!
There seems to be a view which almost amounts to arrogance in certain
quarters which assumes that the only valid use of archaeological data is
archaeology - the reconstruction of past human society from its material
remains. This is simply not true. Archaeological data is like any other
scientific data - once it is published (and certain areas of
archaeological science have a shocking record for publication of basic
data), it is public-domain information, and may be used for any purpose.
Does anyone believe, for example, that radiocarbon dating would have
been so heavily supported and developed if archaeology was the only
beneficiary? Late Quaternary geologists of one sort or another are by
far the biggest users of radiocarbon dating in the UK, and it is
doubtful if any radiocarbon laboratory could survive if it had to rely
on archaeologists as sole customers. Moreover, would the high-precision
calibration curves for radiocarbon dating be so advanced if the
information they provide on changes in 14C flux were not of interest to
atmospheric physicists, astronomers, etc.? I believe strongly in the
concept of a community of scientists interested in the geologically
recent past (archaeologists, palaeoenvironmentalists, climatologists,
palaeobiologists etc.), all of whom have a valid interest in, and a
right of access to, archaeological data. In fact, I believe that the
potential of this pooled data has yet to be exploited to its full extent
by archaeologists. This observation was made briefly by Martin Aitken
over 10 years ago as a self-confessed 'heretical note' in his
contribution to the round table debate on Future directions in
archaeometry (Aitken 1982), which he entitled 'Archaeometry does
not only serve archaeology'. Unfortunately it still seems to be the
case that the potential benefits of the exploitation of archaeological
data for other purposes are not yet fully appreciated.
If this is true, then what does it mean for those scientists who have
chosen to commit themselves to the study of archaeological material?
What should 'grown ups' do? My personal view is very clear.
There is a responsibility to ensure that scientific work carried out in
the name of archaeology is of the same quality as would be expected from
any other scientific endeavour. This means that it must be peer-reviewed
at all stages, not only by appropriate archaeologists for its
archaeological relevance, but also by scientists active in the
mainstream parent scientific disciplines. A brief example. We believe
that presently accepted measurements of the solid solubility limit of
arsenic in copper in the copper-arsenic binary system is wrong at the
low temperature end, which is of importance for the technological
interpretation of the composition of archaeological Cu-As alloys. It is
not in our opinion good enough to report our findings to an
archaeological science journal, where the refereeing rigour in respect
of the metallurgical evidence may be called into question. Our evidence
must be opened to the full investigation of the metallurgical
literature, for our own peace of mind. Only if we can convince the
referees of these journals that our views are correct is it then
satisfactory to publish an interpretation of the archaeological
implications in the archaeological literature. This is in no way
intended to decry the metallurgical skills of professional
archaeometallurgists - it is simply to recognize the small size of the
pool. The same is true of many or most other areas of archaeological
science. The best way of ensuring that the science is valid is to
publish in the scientific literature, as well as in the archaeological
literature. The goals of the research may well be principally of
interest to archaeologists, but the science must stand on its own. The
relatively low standing of archaeological science in some quarters of
the scientific community almost certainly stems from this apparent
unwillingness to open up the research to full scientific scrutiny.
My views are not as negative as they might seem. There is an enormous
amount of scientific work going on in the name of archaeology which is
of the highest quality, but there are some 'presentational'
problems. The term 'archaeometry' is one which I do not
personally like - it can have the connotation of simply being
'scientific measurements applied to archaeology', which, to
use a mathematical phrase, is 'necessary but not sufficient'
(although unfortunately it does often adequately describe the character
of the work). This concern was more eloquently expressed by Cyril
Stanley Smith (1982), when he pointed out the danger of over-emphasizing
the '-metry' at the expense of the 'archaeo'. I
prefer the phrase 'archaeological science', but I accept that
it is tautological, and as far as possible I prefer to talk simply about
'archaeology'. Accumulating data in a routine fashion is often
part of the scientific process, but too often it is used as a substitute
for thought about a problem. It usually signifies a poor (or missing)
research design. If the data do not contribute to an answer to the key
question 'how would I know if my theory was wrong?', then it
is either the wrong data or the wrong theory! It is interesting to
ruminate on the emphasis which has been accorded in the past to data
collection in archaeology itself. It has often been said that the
excavation of an archaeological site is an unrepeatable experiment, and
that the excavator therefore has a duty to record everything regardless
of current research priorities. This philosophy is particularly
prevalent when the prime motive for excavation is rescue as a result of
development pressure. In my view this has resulted in unreadable
excavation reports which are nothing more than catalogues, and, worse
still, this paradigm has been accepted uncritically by some
'archaeometrists' - the assumption that accumulating
analytical evidence is a meaningful end in itself. It may simply be an
excuse for not having the confidence to define one's own thoughts
about priorities! I also question the concept of the uniqueness of most
archaeological sites when taken in the wider context, but that is not a
matter for discussion here.
A very important presentational problem is the structure of the
conferences devoted to 'archaeometry'. They have been much
criticized for being too techniques- or materials-orientated, with
little emphasis placed on the archaeological problem (if any) being
addressed. This is clearly the root cause of the problem encapsulated by
Dunnell (1993) - 'why archaeologists don't care about
archaeometry'. They do not see it as relevant, because it is not
presented in a relevant manner and rarely is it open to criticism from
an archaeological viewpoint. Invariably, conference delegates bemoan the
fact that no 'big player archaeologists' have attended the
conference to hear their earth-shattering discoveries. Why? - because
the structure of the meeting is often completely without archaeological
logic! The solution is obvious - re-structure some (if not all) of the
conference into archaeologically-relevant themes, and invite appropriate
specialists to review various aspects of cultural or theoretical
archaeology relevant to the theme! It must be remembered, however, that
archaeological data has relevance to other sciences apart from
archaeology, and participants must be prepared to contemplate themes
such as human-climate interactions, or the evolutionary biology of the
horse. I can testify from personal experience that scrutiny by
archaeologists can often lead to moments of great humility. On one
occasion, I gave an extremely eloquent and concise account of the value
of using stable isotope studies in bone to determine the
terrestrial/marine balance of diet in Neolithic Britain, when one robust
character stood up and said that it didn't need a mass spectrometer
to tell that marine food had been important at a certain site - the
ground was knee-deep in limpet shells! Scope, perhaps, for further
erudite discussion about food webs, nutritional value etc., but point
taken. Archaeological scientists often seem to spend a lot of time and
money to demonstrate the obvious! In my more cynical moments, I have
often felt tempted to ask at a conference how much a piece of research
cost - especially one which produces a result of great import to nobody
but the author. Dangerous thoughts!
So, to turn at last to the title, why teach Heisenberg to
archaeologists? It is a shorthand, of course, for the simple question,
Why do archaeologists need to know the fundamental principles of
science? The answer, if my arguments are correct, should by now be
obvious. Archaeology, if not regarded as a science in its own right, has
recourse to a very wide range of other scientific disciplines. In order
to ensure that the scientific work carried out in the name of
archaeology is of acceptable quality, it must be peer-reviewed by
scientists from the parent disciplines, and therefore the practitioners
must be competent in the parent disciplines. Hence, they need to know
the fundamentals of scientific principles, and therefore may have cause
to make the acquaintance of Heisenberg.
I will give a brief example to illustrate the point (Pollard
forthcoming). An often-expressed view in the archaeological literature
is that the nature of the 'burial environment' of a bone (or,
indeed, any buried object) can in some way be reconstructed in the
laboratory after excavation providing a sample is taken of the sediment
containing the bone. This is naive to the point of being ludicrous. A
chemical analysis of the sediment for an element such as strontium will
give little indication of the level of strontium in the groundwater
moving through the sediment and the bone, even if the analysis is
relevant in terms of assessing the 'available' strontium
rather than the total strontium in the deposit - a point already made by
Williams (1988). Control of the uptake of elements from sediment into
groundwater is far more subtle than this, and depends not only on the
prevailing aqueous environment (temperature, pH, Eh) but also on the
mineralogical form of the element, and the concentration (more
accurately, activity) of other dissolved species. In most natural dilute
groundwaters, for example, the pH is entirely controlled by the
CaC[O.sub.3]-[H.sub.2]O-C[O.sub.2] equilibria (Garrels & Christ
1965: 75). In soil solutions, phosphate solubility is often controlled
by the aluminium content (activity) of the soil (Lindsay 1979: 169). The
concentration of trace elements such as strontium in groundwaters will
therefore almost certainly be controlled by the activity of other
species - in this case, probably calcium and magnesium. Some of these
issues have been discussed in the archaeological literature by Pate and
co-workers in an excellent series of papers (Pate & Hutton 1988;
Pate et al. 1989; 1991), but unfortunately the implications so far
appear to have been generally overlooked.
There is, of course, a very good reason for this. Field measurements
of the important parameters such as pH, Eh, dissolved C[O.sub.2] levels,
and the various trace element concentrations are fiendishly difficult to
perform without unbalancing the system, even if all of the relevant
parameters could be identified in advance. Not only that, it is well
established that an important factor affecting the chemical properties
of groundwater is not simply the dissolved trace element or cationic concentrations, but the form which the element is in - the speciation.
The situation rapidly becomes so complex that it becomes impossible to
deal effectively with real systems. It is at this stage that geochemists
turn to computer modelling of such systems in order to provide further
understanding of how they might behave. Computer models of the chemistry
of dilute aqueous solutions have been in existence since the mid-1960s,
and are now commercially available and documented (e.g., Bassett &
Melchior 1989). This type of calculation can be used to predict the
stability fields for a large number of minerals over the range of
naturally encountered conditions of pH and Eh. Although widely used in
geochemistry, little use has been made of these programs in archaeology,
with the exception of the work done by Thomas and colleagues in Cardiff
in order to understand the corrosion behaviour of copper in the burial
environment (Thomas 1990). There must be a pressing need to use this
approach to study other systems of archaeological interest (including
bone).
Having said all this, it is also naive to expect that a purely
geochemical approach to the question of the detailed interaction of
buried bone with groundwaters will solve all the problems associated
with excavated bone. In the early stages of burial the organic component
will exert a massive influence, which may not be easily accounted for by
simple experimentation. Indeed, the primary mechanism of alteration at
this stage will probably not be chemical but microbiological. The
chemical modelling advocated here can also only be part of the solution,
in that the physics of the groundwater-bone system must also be
considered, especially for an understanding of the flow of water through
the bone. This aspect of hydrological modelling is being tackled by
other workers (e.g. Hedges forthcoming), and will eventually need
merging with the geochemical factors. Although the way ahead is
undoubtedly convoluted, at least I believe we now have some idea of
where we should be going - that is to strive to raise the level of
understanding in this particular aspect of archaeological chemistry to
the same level of scientific clarity as is demonstrated in other
biogeochemical disciplines, in order to ensure that archaeological
interpretations may be based on meaningful rather than spurious
observations.
I hope I have demonstrated that archaeological science is a
discipline which needs to emerge from the old diffusionist paradigm. The
problems thrown up in the course of research can be unique to
archaeology, and may bear little relation to the research carried out in
the parent scientific disciplines of metallurgy or microbiology, or any
of the other sciences which now bear upon archaeology. Serious
scientific work in archaeology needs serious scientific knowledge in
order to make progress beyond the trivial level of applying analytical
techniques developed in other disciplines to archaeological material.
Hence the modern archaeological scientist needs a thorough scientific
background in a range of relevant disciplines. That is why we teach the
Heisenberg Uncertainty Principle to archaeologists - not only because it
appears to set a limit on what we can know, but also because, when
combined with a good archaeological education, it will make them better
archaeological scientists. We cannot expect to have it both ways - if
archaeology is, at least in certain aspects, a science, then it has to
act like a science, which includes a commitment to the publication of
all basic data and a willingness to open up to full scientific scrutiny.
If it isn't prepared to do so, then it can make no claims to be
treated as a science.
Nothing I have said here of course is particularly new. To some
extent it is reassuring to realize that archaeological science is not
the only interdisciplinary area with an identity problem. Forensic
science suffers similarly - for example, Sensabaugh (1986) states that
Forensic science may be defined broadly as the application of science
to the analysis and interpretation of physical evidence in criminal and
civil litigation. Because just about any object or event in the natural
or man-made universe may be evidence at one time or another, forensic
science draws on a diversity of scientific disciplines from astronomy to
zoology. Forensic science is, however, more than a collection of
fragments borrowed from the various basic disciplines. The field has a
unique body of concerns that are not addressed by other disciplines, and
it is this body of concerns that gives the field an identity of its own.
These concerns also provide the subject matter for research having a
specific forensic science focus.
Replace 'forensic' with 'archaeological', and
'criminal and civil litigation' with 'archaeology',
and this quotation is a neat encapsulation of my arguments in this
paper.
I will end by quoting from an article published over 50 years ago by
V. Gordon Childe in Nature, entitled 'Archaeology as a
science' (Childe 1943):
The antithesis between history and science as central disciplines in
'education for citizenship' can be resolved by making history
more archaeological and recognizing that archaeology is a science.
What archaeology reveals is precisely 'the progress of mankind -
of art, science and industry' from the painted caves of the
mammoth-hunters not only to the early cities of Sumer and Crete but also
right down to Manhattan and Magnitogorsk. Flint axes and rotary querns,
the history of which is provided by archaeology alone, are just as much
embodiments of science as the cyclotron.
On the other hand, the methods of archaeology - accurate and
dispassionate observation, systematic comparison and classification, the
continual reference of explanatory generalizations to the concrete data
derived from observation - are truly scientific.
Hence a lesson in archaeology, even if it consists only in the
comparison and classification of rusty bolts and broken tobacco-pipes
from a town rubbish pit, could be at once a lesson in science and a
lesson in history.
The corollaries would be, on one hand a more generous treatment of
archaeology by the State and local authorities, on the other a fuller
recognition of the subject's scientific status by universities and
institutions.
Fifty years on, these words are still highly relevant!
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A.M. POLLARD, Department of Archaeological Sciences, University of
Bradford, Bradford BD7 1DP, England.