FaganTalk
We navigate tricky waters
Anyone who writes for the general public is used to their work being used by others to further their various agendas. Over the years, I've suffered my fill, on such varied topics as the first Americans (where people wanted me to take sides), archaeological theory (ditto), the role of women in prehistory (my writing was interpreted as "somewhat androcentric", and, of course, climate change. My books on the latter have been used by opponents of anthropogenic global warming, by advocates of anthropogenic global warming, and by those who say we should just live with it. This I am used to, culminating in an op-ed piece I wrote for the New York Times some years ago during a heat wave, when I basically told people to relax and suffer through it, citing a well-known heat wave from the 1880s where people suffered even more. This, I said, was weather, not climate change. Furious e-mails descended on my head, from people who asked me why I had the temerity to suggest that a heat wave was not the direct cause of global warming.
All one can do is laugh, shrug one's shoulders, and move on. You'll never change peoples' minds if they believe passionately in something.
This has worked for me, until I wrote another op-ed article, this time for the Los Angeles Times last week on drought. This prompted a tirade from a certain Mark Cromer, senior writing fellow for "Californians for Population Stabilization," an anti-immigration organization. My article was about drought, but he accuses me of "an act of self-preservation" because I didn't mention the subject of population except in passing. Apparently I am"intellectually dishonest" because I say that adapting to the reality of prolonged drought is a potential solution without mentioning the problem of population growth. So this time I'm dragged into the immigration debate, when my article was about climate change, not population or immigration. Of course population growth is an important factor in the drought equation, that's a no-brainer, but the purpose of my article was to increase awareness of droughts a thousand years ago as possible signposts for a future when we are going to have to adapt to new water use practices--that's all. But quite what I want to preserve myself against, I don't know! Ah, people with agendas . . . .
What it all comes down to is people choosing to believe what they want to believe in and to hell with other peoples' integrity and motives. The only kind of self-preservation I am going to indulge in is a good laugh. It's flattering that archaeology is taken seriously as part of someone's political agenda!
At last something concrete
Our feces never lie--at least those from the past don't. . . .
The controversies over the First Americans continue to rage unabated, with little fresh archaeological evidence to nourish the flames, until the feces from Oregon came along. At last something new!
Dennis Jenkins, an archaeologist at the University of Oregon, explored the Paisley Caves in the Cascade Mountains in 2002 and 2003. He recovered a scattering of human coprolites, which preserved 14,000 year-old human protein and DNA. Six feces samples contained genetic material associated with native Americans and no other groups. Mitochondrial DNA from the coprolites links the people who visited the cave to two genetic groups of native Americans who arose between 14,000 and 18,000 years ago.
Unfortunately the scatter of coprolites were not associated with any artifacts or food remains, but if they are indeed human and the dates are reliable, then we have more clear evidence that humans entered the Americas before the Clovis occupation of some millennia later. This is interesting confirmation for a slowly accumulating but scanty body of archaeological evidence that places the first settlement of the Americas to at least as early as 14,000 years ago. Like all these things, more research is needed. But if this find is what they think it is, then a brief stop at cave in the Cascades was a momentous event for archaeology, indeed world history.
Consequences
The fall-out from appearing on The Daily Show is finally ebbing. I'm left with some violent dislikes. Among them are:
People who e-mail you, castigating you for being among those who believe that humanly caused global warming is a reality. Invariably they have agendas, accuse you of getting facts wrong or of faulty research, or are angry at a third party. Most of the time, they've only skimmed your book to see if you are on their side or not. And what they say is THE TRUTH!
People who assume that you are an expert on some esoteric aspect of science that will solve our warming problems. Such correspondents range from those who think that natural desalinization will work to those who are seeking someone (preferably me) to finance their esoteric machine that will solve all our warming problems.
Those who either send you, or offer to send you, their books or book length manuscripts on global warming whether you want them or not. Almost invariably, they're looking for validation, or, even worse, an endorsement or a publisher.
The anonymous correspondents who tell you have Sinned with a capital S, then refer you to the Gospels for salvation. These gentry are more common than you might think.
Finally, the invariably anonymous e-mailers who are just plain abusive. How dare I write about global warming?
All of this makes for an entertaining, if often pathetic, backdrop to an ongoing dialogue with those readers who, bless them, offer perspectives, references, news of ongoing research, and critical analysis. Such responses to The Great Warming keep me humble and maintain my sense of perspective.
Why does climate change attract such misdirected passion and so many tenaciously developed agendas? Probably because it's been politicized, which is inevitable up to a point--but the full force of national exposure has been sobering.
Robert Fagles
"Stirred now by the Muse, the bard launched out
in a fine blaze of song, starting at just the point
where the main Achaean force, setting their camps afire,
had boarded the oarswept ships an sailed for home
but famed Odysseus' men already crouched in hiding--
in the heart of Troy's assembly--dark in that horse
the Trojans dragged themselves to the city heights . . . .
I was luck enough to be introduced to Homer in the English equivalent of high school, by a teacher who lived and breathed the Iliad and Odyssey. We were required to read and translate 40 lines a day, which would have been a burden had not the teacher treated the epics as tales of adventure. I can't read the Greek any more, but I relish the translations, turning to them again and again for inspiration, for enjoyment, and for a vicarious journey through a legendary Greek world. There are translations galore, but the best of them are immortals--E.V.Rieu in colloquial prose, written soon after World War II, Owen Lattimore's wonderful rendition, and, most wonderful of all, Robert Fagles's masterpieces in luminous verse.
Fagles makes us realize with every line that Homer's tales were once sung by bards, who passed the epics from father to son, from one generation to the next. They must have tailored their performances to their audiences, well aware of the jokes and sly remarks that appealed to them, masters of drama and changing pace, of metaphor and telling pauses. You find the same qualities in a few university lectures, masters of their subject matter, devoted to convincing their captive audiences that meteorology, physics-- and Homer--have a special magic about them. Theirs is, alas, a dying art, kept alive by a devoted few.
Then the Iliad and the Odyssey were written down and some of the magic was lost, or was it? I was lucky enough to learn Homer from a teacher who recited the poems like the great stories they are, with passion and pathos, love and anger, bravery and cowardice, making the most of evocative descriptions. The original Greek is mellifluous and dramatic. English is another matter, but Fagles succeeded. Consider the ship that carried Odysseus to Ithaca:
"And the ship like a four-horse team careering down the plain,
all breaking as one with the whiplash cracking smartly,
leaping with hoofs high to run the course in no time . . . ."
It is as if we are there.
We know of the Greek Bronze Age, of Greece's remote past from archaeology as well as legend, the legends in Homer's poems. The archaeology is rarely spectacular, often really dry and specialized. Of course Homer is legend and not historical truth, but the great epics remind us that the past was as alive and human as we are, even if all we have from it is a legacy of dusty potsherds and crumbling shrines.
Robert Fagles translated Homer as part of a living past and we are immeasurably richer for his genius. He died last week, but the legacy that he left behind him, not only of Homer, but of the Aeneid, is a wonderful memorial.
We are much richer for his having been among us. He was a great Homeric bard.
Visiting Vancouver
Last week was the annual meeting of the Society for American Archaeology (SAA) in Vancouver, one of my favorite cities anywhere. Temperatures were in the forties and we had both hail and wet snow. Nothing too severe; it was lovely to get away from the crowds and overheated rooms of the convention.
SAA was business as usual. It always is. Crowds of graduate students, professional archaeologists of all ages and occupations, many of them from across Canada and overseas, as well as the usual leavening of government officials. Nothing ever changes--the same exhibits with the usual players, the annual business meeting, a plenary session or two, excursions, and, above all, dozens of paper sessions, usually in crowded rooms and often poorly attended. One worthy institution is a round table lunch, where you can sit with a few others and discuss major issues. I went to a wonderful one, moderated by Professor Paul Mellars of Cambridge University, on the subject of modern humans, which developed into a fascinating discussion over genetics, migration routes, and the origins of bows and arrows. Good stuff! One really goes to these meetings for the networking with others, and that's invaluable.
For some reason, I find the SAA meeting depressing. Perhaps it's because so little changes from one year to the next. Or perhaps it's because one has a sense of slight complacency, of a comfortable world where little changes from one generation to the next and original ideas are in depressingly short supply. Much of SAA, but not all, seems to be archaeology stuck in a deep rut, where much of what happens is so specialized that few people really care about it. Or perhaps it's just me.
But the most depressing part of the meeting was the paper sessions. Such papers have become a kind of ritual for graduate students at all stages of their careers, but no one seems to care how good the general standard should be. I sampled about a dozen presentations over the two days I was at the convention. With one notable exception, they were appalling. The subject matter was usually obscure, often highly provisional, and, above all, presented poorly. Many of the people giving such 15 to 20-minute talks are the professors of the future (and some of them are already teaching). The exception was a young archaeologist,who knew her material thoroughly, used no notes, kept to time, was entertaining, and had bright, relevant visuals. She was a joy to listen to. Everyone else either put their notes on the screen, a gross misuse of PowerPoint or Keynote, or read their paper from a script, or both. Some never looked their audience in the eye! The delivery was either too faint, too monotone, or just plain sleep inducing. Most lost the attention of their audience in the first two minutes. There seemed to be an almost total lack of enthusiasm or passion, of fire in the belly. Is a lack of passion considered professional?
My sample was a tiny one, and perhaps misleading, but I was appalled and wondered why no one gives their students formal training in delivering oral presentations or lectures. It is largely a matter of practice.
The basic rules are simple:
Know your stuff so well that you only need notes for quotes and statistics, if then,
Never put your notes or main paints on the screen except when you need to emphasize a really major point, and even then very sparingly, and at the most once during the talk,
Vary your voice level, show enthusiasm, play on the audience and ENJOY yourself! If you do, your audience will.
And, lastly, keep scrupulously to time.
Many of the people at the conference never went to a single session because they found them boring. Alas, nothing will change as long as peoples' ways to meetings are paid if they deliver papers. But I would have thought that their professional pride would motivate them to do a first rate job, or at least learn how to do one. Nervousness is not an excuse, for adequate preparation and rehearsal readily overcomes this. And as for putting your notes on PowerPoint--that's a lazy person's way of giving a talk and just not acceptable.
I think I'll give the SAA meeting a miss next year.
The Daily Show
The Daily Show was a unique and memorable experience. . . . Ill never forget it.
I was scared and apprehensive before I got to New York, but by the time the process started I was more excited than terrified. A frantic re-reading of The Great Warming reminded me of some of the things I had said, especially facts and figures, but other than that I didn't prepare at all.
The process starts at 3, when you have a phone conversation with the very charming producer. She questioned me about the book, asked questions, then told me that she had no idea what Jon Stewart would ask me, which was not exactly reassuring!
A car picks you up at 5.15 and transports you to a warehouse-like building by the East River. You are greeted warmly and shown into a green room, which is reserved for guests, complete with a large flat screen TV. The producer introduces herself and tells you you must not tell jokes. That's their job. She was wonderful at putting you at your ease. At 5.40 I was in make up for a few minutes--just some powder to remove shininess on my forehead. At 5.50, Jon Stewart pops into the green room and shakes hands. He asks me two questions,. one funny, the other serious. Clearly, he was sizing me up and fortunately we "clicked." He was very friendly, which put me at ease, but I noticed his expressive eyes, which changed as he shifted from humor to serious issues. This, I realized, was the way he would cue me on stage.
And so it proved. We sat and watched the show through the second commercial break and had a good laugh, so much so that it was no big deal being led through the wings for one's appearance. The studio is quite small, with about 200 people in the audience in bleachers, who were noisy and enthusiastic, a marvelous backdrop. Then the interview, which lasted about 5 minutes. It was more of a conversation that an interview, for we looked into each other's eyes and ad-libbed. He took the questioning one way, I would steer it back, but in the end the chemistry was wonderful and I enjoyed every moment of it. You get so involved in the conversation that you become oblivious of the audience and anyone but Jon Stewart.
We could have gone on for a long time without effort, for I was mesmerized by his intelligence and ability to switch from being screamingly funny to deadly serious in seconds. It looked effortless, but was the result of intense preparation. He had read the book and zeroed in on the issues without hesitation.
It's easy to be mesmerized by celebrities, but this time I was not in awe, but truly seduced by an extraordinary interviewer. This is a truly remarkable human being I feel very privileged to have had this experience and will never forget it. And what was nice is that the audience appreciated it.
And to cap it all, Lesley, my wife, took charge of my wardrobe and ensured that I looked good. The adrenalin rush was with me for at least 12 hours afterward, and I am still in disbelief that I was on the Daily Show, just for a few minutes in the Big Time.
Elephants in the Climatic Room
Silent elephants in the climatic room. . . . On a book tour earlier this week, I was surprised how people reacted to this metaphor, which came from a memorable experience by the banks of the Zambezi River in Central Africa many years ago, when I walked into the midst of a herd of elephants. What I remember is just how quiet they were, and that's how I find so very characteristic of discussions about future droughts. If computer projections are to be believed--and they are very sophisticated these days and becoming more so--the world is in for a dose of drought on a scale we have never witnessed before. And this is something that we simply don't talk about except in rather general terms. In many ways, however, drought is a shorter-term problem than rising sea levels and warming, for we are likely to be exposed to much more severe aridity, especially in currently semi-arid parts of the world by 2150 to 2100. I think drought very much is a problem for the moment and not one that one wrestles with in the abstract as an issue for our great-grandchildren. Yet public awareness of the need for water conservation and the dangers of drought is still very muted, why is why I wish the elephants would make a little more noise.
I've just been reading about ancient Australia, in a new and thought-provoking book by Peter Hiscock, The Archaeology of Ancient Australia, which treats extensively of the responses of Aboriginal groups to arid environments. He stresses that beliefs and ritual were of vital importance in helping people adjust to climatic events, a subject we often neglected, and very much another silent elephant in climatic debates. Obviously, it's hard to reconstruct intangible beliefs from material objects, but in Australian rock art and the so-called Dreamtime, we have a potential archive of great value.
Off to New York for the Daily Show on Sunday. I alternate between excitement and sheer terror.
Stonehenge and other things
They're at it again with Stonehenge. You may recall that about three months ago the British Government announced that it would not proceed with an ambitious scheme to bury an adjoining major trunk road in a tunnel on the grounds of expense. The road, known locally as the A303, is already overburdened with traffic between London and a booming southwestern England. Now Tesco, the British grocery giant, has announced plans to build a huge warehouse distribution center at nearby Andover. When last I traveled between Los Angeles and Phoenix by road, I spent much of time overtaking Wal-Mart trucks traveling between distribution centers and stores. If the Tesco warehouse goes ahead, a torrent of large trucks will flow on to the A303 day-and-night, adding even more to the catastrophic overcrowding on this already overstressed highway. Stonehenge, an icon of Britain's long past, will suffer even more from noise and pollution. And quite apart from the serious economic issues--and make no mistake, they really are very important indeed--one continues to be amazed at the shortsightedness of government. Surely you must look at the future of Stonehenge from a long-term perspective, and not just as a matter of short-term budgeting. Can you imagine how much a scheme like this, or its still unplanned alternative, will cost in, say, ten years?
Archaeology is unimportant to many governments in the larger scheme of things, which is hardly surprising given a public raised on Indiana Jones, The Mummy, Lara Cruft, and now 10,000 B.C. The latter is a masterpiece of vapid disaster, thought up by the filmmaker Roland Emmerich, who brought us Independence Day. Saber-toothed tigers in 10,000 B.C.? Give us a break! But when it comes to Hollywood and entertainment, everything goes. This is, in the final analysis, popular entertainment in the genre of tacky 1950s epics which starred Victor Mature, or that perennial favorite, Kirk Douglas in The Vikings. Let's just hope that people are smart enough to realize that archaeology paints a very different picture of ancient times and of our forebears. I'm not holding my breath in a world where many people equate archaeology not with ancient people, but with dinosaurs.
I've just learned that I'm going on The Daily Show on March 17 to talk about The Great Warming. In my wildest dreams, I never thought I would ever appear on a national talk show, let alone Jon Stewart. Wow!
Lamont Doherty
I just returned from a visit to the Lamont-Doherty Earth Science Center, which is one of the most important institutions that studies climate change. Deep sea cores, ice borings, tree-rings--they work on almost everything with a strong multidisciplinary emphasis. Every Friday, they have a colloquium, which has run continually every academic year since the 1950s, but I suspect I am one of the few archaeologists ever to speak to it. About 150 people came--faculty, researchers, and students. I spoke about the Medieval Warm Period and drought, mainly stressing the opportunities for collaboration with archaeologists that lie ahead. It went down well, I think, but the main benefit for me was a chance to interact with a series of really heavy duty researchers, each world authorities on such topics as deep sea cores and El Ninos. By the end of the day, I was exhausted, but I had learned a tremendous amount. I was also very flattered by the kind words they said about my climate change books.
Tomorrow is publication day for The Great Warming, finally after months of editing, revision, copy edits, and proofs. In a way it's an anticlimax, for I basically closed the text nearly a year ago. But the memories of the research come cascading back as I talk about the warm centuries in lectures--visiting the University of Arizona tree-ring laboratory, the brilliant white light of the Far North, the moiae, the great ancestral statues of Easter Island gazing out at the endless ocean. Every book has its cherished memories, which is what makes them worth writing. And one meets so many nice, interesting people along the way. Now I am bracing myself--to use a ghastly media expression--for the usual onslaught of nitpickers and people who delight in finding errors on page 86, line 4... . But the reviews have been good so far.
Drought and climate change
I'm just back from a lightning trip to Barcelona, where I gave a keynote address to the Catalan Climate Change Conference. Apart from getting a nasty and long lasting cold, it was a wonderful experience. The all-day session was the culmination of a year-long planning process and involved about 550 people from cities, local governments, and non-profits in Catalonia concerned with long-term planning for climate change in the future. It was a wonderful experience to interact with people with a genuine, serious, and profound interest in planning for climatic change.
I spoke about the Medieval Warm Period and the worldwide droughts that occurred between A.D. 800 and 1200, and, as I did in the book, then talked about the implications of the warming of a thousand years ago for our present era of warming. Much of the lecture was about droughts ancient and projected for the future, which resonated strongly with my audience. Catalonia, like the rest of Spain, is deeply concerned about aridity indeed the area is in the midst of a multiyear drought. They are talking of shipping in water, which cannot be a permanent solution to the water shortage problem. Apparently, the situation is compounded by large numbers of illegal wells, which are drawing down an already stressed water table. Much of the discussion at the all-day session was about changing social attitudes toward climate change and about infrastructure needs. I was struck at how little mention there was of drought and water, which indeed seems to be the "silent elephant in the climatic room" here and elsewhere.
I don't think that many in the audience had thought of archaeology as anything more than a way of discovering ancient civilizations and analyzing human evolution. It seemed to be a real eye opener to them that the study of the remote past has important lessons for the challenges we face with climatic change now and in the future. We archaeologists don't get involved in discussions about climate change nearly as much as we should. Indeed, I'm struck when I talk to paleoclimatologists just how few of them ever think about the impact of climate change on people in the past. Even archaeologists themselves have still done little to study climate as a factor in the major developments of the past. This is something that is still little studied, although this is changing as we become ever more concerned about global warming, and ever more fine-grained climatic information comes to hand. Much of the concern in the Catalonia conference was with self-sustainability, which is something which archaeologists think about a lot of the time--but the wider audience is unaware of this.
What's exciting is that I seem to be lecturing to more and more totally non-archaeological audiences. Almost invariably, they are very excited about the potential of archaeology for better understanding human responses to climate change. We still have a lot to learn about the past which is relevant to today and tomorrow--provided we get away from the Indiana Jones image that Hollywood has unwittingly, and entertainingly, pinned upon us.