FaganTalk

Neanderthal Genes, or did Neanmderthals and moderns have sex?

bfagan1200 — Fri, 07 May 2010 22:53:00 GMT

Did Neanderthals and our fully modern ancestors, the Cro-Magnons, have sex? This seemingly trivial question has engrossed scientists for generations. Until last week, the prevailing view held that Neanderthals and moderns never interbred. Now a highly respected group of geneticists has compared the Neanderthal genome with the complete genomes of five living humans from different parts of the world. To their astonishment, they found that Europeans and Asians share 1 to 4% of their nuclear DNA with Neanderthals, but Africans do not. In other words, some Neanderthals and moderns interbred after the latter left tropical Africa some 100,000 years ago, but before Homo sapiens arrived in Europe over 50,000 years later.

“In a sense, the Neanderthals are not then altogether extinct,” says paleogeneticist Svante Paabo. If he is right, how and when did this interbreeding occur? Most likely, it transpired in the Middle East, perhaps some 80,000 years ago, known to us from caves, which contain skeletons of people who look partially modern and partly Neanderthal. Whatever happened, it was on a small scale, and nothing like swapping wives from cave to cave. The sex involved tiny numbers of people, perhaps Neanderthals who came in close juxtaposition with modern hunters by chance. But why didn’t such interbreeding occur more often? Perhaps there were cultural barriers—feelings of repugnance and distrust, intellectual chasms caused by the vast cognitive chasm between Neanderthals and moderns—we will never know and can only speculate. But whatever happened, there is a little Neanderthal in many Europeans, among them this author, a relic of archaic people who lived alongside moderns and became extinct some 30,000 years ago. At least we can now move on from a preoccupation with ancient sex to a more nuanced study of the relationships between Neanderthals and their successors.

Managing those finds...

bfagan1200 — Sun, 02 May 2010 17:03:00 GMT

We live in changing times, even in the staid world of archaeology. I vividly remember months of recording artifacts from Iron Age sites in Africa—measuring plotting, drawing plans. Hearths, changing pottery designs, even cow bones: all were grist for the mill, a huge task when over 20,000 objects were involved. Yes, we did it all by hand, day after day, with mind-numbing monotony that was worth it in the end. Now a friend has sent me a press release about archaeologist Richard Walter of the University of Otago in New Zealand, who has developed “Excavation Manager,” which certainly solves part of the monotony problem and is far more accurate. Handheld devices enter the data into site records. Every artifact is recorded immediately and the details transmitted wirelessly to a central server, located on-site. Each item receives a barcode, which allows the excavator to track the object from discovery right through to the moment when it enters permanent storage—and beyond. Machines seem to be taking over so much that we used to do, including the laborious task of marking artifacts with black ink. “Never let the sun set on an unmarked artifact” the late Miles Burkitt used to admonish us at Cambridge many years ago. Now, apparently, bar code machines and computers have taken over the task. I’m sure there are equivalent approaches being tested elsewhere, but apparently the University of Otago thinks this has commercial possibilities. They awarded Richard a $50,000 prize grant from what is called the university’s “commercialization arm.” If nothing else curators will bless the barcodes, which should make finding artifacts from the excavations of yesteryear much easier. When was the last time you spent hours looking for that elusive artifact that you dimly remember from a dig five summers ago?

A disappointing meeting

bfagan1200 — Tue, 20 Apr 2010 18:16:00 GMT

The 2010 Society for American Archaeology meetings were a huge circus. Four thousand archaeologists converged on the convention center in St. Louis, Missouri, for the annual 3½-day bean feast. There was one difference this time. The annual gathering was the 75^th anniversary of the Society. I went somewhat reluctantly, hoping for some meaningful commemoration of what is, after all, a significant milestone in the history of a society that started with a miniscule membership during the 1930s. I was sorely disappointed. Instead of a memorable commemoration, a measured assessment of what had transpired since the 50^th meeting, or an evaluation of the present state of American archaeology and its future—and this is a time of changing perceptions and much new research--it was business as usual. Dozens of panels, often on arcane subjects of minimal interest except to a narrow coterie of specialists, a veritable swamp of badly prepared, mediocre papers, often read rather than delivered, and only a handful of sessions that really added something to the broader picture. One left with a portrait of a discipline obsessed in large part with minutiae, with most of the attendees displaying little or no interest in the vital things that archaeology has to contribute to contemporary society and to the future of humankind. I wish that the Society’s leaders, who pay lip service to global issues, had commissioned a series of 30-minute assessments from top experts right at the beginning of the meeting, which would have set the tone for a really outstanding look at the present and future of archaeology. At least one of these presentations would have been well spent assessing the significance of the archaeology we practice it today’s relevance to contemporary society. Once delivered, they should have been published, especially for the benefit of students, the future of archaeology. As it was, there was effectively nothing that did this, despite a commemorative edited volume, with all the usual faults of the breed, and a birthday party (which I did not attend as I was going home) limited to 500 attendees. Is anyone among the 4000 of us who attended really thinking about the future of archaeology? I hate to say this, but I’m beginning to wonder if we have a meaningful future. The danger that we will be marginalized in a world of increasingly scarce resources looms large, unless we engage more closely with the wider world. Certainly the 75^th annual meeting of the Society for American Archaeology didn’t, and that’s a cause for concern. But at least I talked to a lot of folk about various things--for networking the meeting is valuable. It would be even more useful if it was focused.

Kodiak asdventure

bfagan1200 — Thu, 08 Apr 2010 16:20:00 GMT

Somewhat of a silence because I have been catching with with backlogs and getting ready for another trip next week. The second part of my Alaska journey took me to Kodak Island, one of my favorite places in Alaska. (This was my second visit.) Spending time with the folks at the Alutiiq Museum was the highlight. This marvelous small museum commemorates the history of the Alutiiq people, who have lived on Kodiak Island for thousands of years. Sven Haakensen, himself one of them, is devoting his career to preserving Alutiiq culture, language, traditional skills, and artifacts with remarkable success. To give a lecture in the museum was a true privilege, for the people involved with it, whether staff members or volunteers have a refreshing passion for their important work. I originally came across the museum while working on a book on the Lake Clark National Park for the Park Service, for the history of that area is closely tied to Alutiiq whale hunting, among other things. To visit and spend time with the people behind it was a nice way of rounding off the project. It also gave me a chance to say thanks in person for the help they gave me.

Sven and archaeologist Pat Saltenstall also gave me a quick tour of some of the local archaeological sites. We inspected house pits and midden at the back of a beach in the face of a 30-knot northwesterly wind and snow. It was cold, cold for someone used to walking around in shorts and a T-shirt in the field. We also visited an important site from the contact period, c. 1830, I believe, which was more sheltered. Here there were problems of a different sort: deep tracks carved into the surface of the site by unthinking ATV drivers. It's strange and tragic how some people get their goodies by tearing up not only fragile landscape but archaeological sites. Controlling their activities is difficult, especially when there are virtually no funds for patrolling and enforcement. A sobering reminder that saving the past is a task that never ends...

Flying in and out of Kodiak in March is always interesting. My first flight out was canceled owing to high winds, but an hour and a half later, I got out to Anchorage on a smaller plane. Then there were mechanicals on my next flight and I ended up spending a night at Sacramento Airport. Ah, the vagaries of travel and fieldwork...

Next week a lecture in California, Pennsylvania, then the Society for American Archaeology meetings in St. Louis, which promise to be even larger than ever and even more than the usual zoo. I am not looking forward to them.

Small meetings and science

bfagan1200 — Mon, 29 Mar 2010 00:23:00 GMT

Travel defines my life at the moment—promoting my new Cro-Magnon book, doing radio and TV interviews, and lecturing. For the past four days, I’ve been in Anchorage, Alaska, both doing a book signing and lecture at the University of Alaska bookstore and giving two talks for the Alaska Anthropological Association. One, on ancient water, which I have been working on for the past two years, the other a talk about archaeology and the public to the Association’s banquet. I’m exhausted after all this talking, but it was wonderful to spend time with experts on Aleutian and Arctic archaeology and to interact with numerous generations of northern archaeologists. I love smaller meetings, for it is there that you really have a chance to network with colleagues, many of them working far from the comfortable world of academia. This annual function is especially important in Alaska, where so many archaeologists spend most of their year in complete isolation from one another. So the noise level is high, students cut their teeth on paper presentation and all kinds of new and unpublished data gets batted around. This is what science really is—a continual process of back and forth, or reassessing data and theories, of free-flowing discussion. And this is what the ideologues who condoned hacking into the University of West Anglia’s e-mail choose to forget. All good science depends on personal interaction and electronic dialogue, which is often frank and in your face—as it should be if our knowledge of anything, let alone archaeology or the past, is to advance. If we inhibit such dialogue by eavesdropping illegally, then we do neither science or ourselves any good. And I don’t blame some of my climatological colleagues for making cynical remarks about ideologues and the individuals who clutter their e-mail boxes with agendas, rants, and sometime abuse. I suffer from the same constant background noise. Such people can take refuge in please of freedom of speech if they wish—but they’ll get much more respect, and attention, if they realize that science relies on data and constantly reevaluates it. It is not a matter of making sweeping statements and stating that they are correct.

Mt Toba--the 73,000 year-old cataclysm

bfagan1200 — Sun, 07 Mar 2010 18:42:00 GMT

The full impact of the Mt. Toba eruption of about 73,000 years ago will never be known, but there’s no question that it was a major event, which blew most of a mountain into space. The explosion created a crater lake over 60 miles (96 km) long. Huge ash clouds rose high into the atmosphere and fell over much of the South China Sea and far north and west over Southeast Asia and India. In places, the ash deposits were up to 30 feet (9 m) deep. The eruption blanked the sun and caused the equivalent of a 6-year nuclear winter. The details of this devastating scenario are still being debated, especially its global impact on humanity.

Mt. Toba vanished into space at a critical moment in human history, when Homo sapiens, anatomically modern humans, ourselves, were flourishing in sub-Saharan Africa. Some hypotheses claim there was an evolutionary bottleneck that humanity almost became extinct, and that India was effectively depopulated, but these notions are by no means universally accepted. As always with sensational discoveries, the hype mounts immediately and even minor finds are magnified by University PR departments into huge scientific advances. For instance, a joint Indian and Oxford University expedition has spent seven years excavating a Stone Age living site in India’s Andhra Pradesh, removing layers of volcanic ash, in which stone tools survive. The artifacts occur above and below the Toba ash, tools that are said to be identical to ones made in southern Africa at the same time, proving, we are told, that some modern humans in India survived the cataclysm.

Casting aside the hype, what does this interesting find tell us? It certainly shows that there were humans living in India before and after the eruption, but there are, as far as I can tell, no precise dates for the tools found above and below the ash. How long after the ash fell did people resettle the area? Was this a group of immigrants or survivors of the ash fall? And how can one possibly claim that simple artifacts found in Africa were made by the same kinds of people in India? One cannot. All that the Andhra Pradesh site tells us that human occupation resumed after the eruption. Almost certainly, some people survived the catastrophe, perhaps in areas sheltered from ash, or spared its onslaught by shifting winds. But to claim more than this, in the absence of more accurate dating and of human fossils, tells us little beyond confirming that some folk occupied the area at some moment after the eruption.

So the Andhra Pradesh find moves the pieces on the archaeological chessboard slightly, but, in the absence of more precise dates and human fossils, it is but a straw in the archaeological wind. Claims like those made by the excavators, and one can sympathize with their need for publicity as part of the fund-raising game, require much more data, laid out systematically for fellow-specialists to evaluate. But it’s good news to learn that another five years of excavations are planned. India is one of the big gaps on the human evolution map, and more finds like this one are likely to revolutionize what we know about our ancestry.

Archaeology Conference 2010

bfagan1200 — Wed, 03 Mar 2010 00:28:00 GMT

The Archaeology Festival (or Conference) held every February is one of my favorite gatherings. The dynamics are totally different from that of an academic meeting, where the presentations tend to be narrowly focused and couched in highly technical terms. The Archaeology Conference is truly eclectic, covering everything from paleoanthropology and human evolution to Scottish heritage and, of course, the Romans. This is a meeting for the readers of Current Archaeology and Current World Archaeology, and, of course, anyone else interested—anyone interested in the past in the broadest possible sense. This year, the meeting was held in the modern conference facilities below the Great Hall in London's British Museum, a marvelous setting for a gathering of people interested in the past. During the two days, I enjoyed presentations on tree-rings and climate change, the evolution of the human brain, steam and water-powered cotton mills in Manchester, and Pompeii—to mention just a few. This is one of the few gatherings where professional and amateur archaeologists mingle freely and exchange ideas. And the evening drinks party after the British Archaeology Awards was a rollicking success, where conversation and networking went hand-in-hand. And where else would the awards ceremony be presided over by a detachment of Roman legionaries, in full uniform? A lovely occasion, and one that hopefully will become an annual event.

Conference in Venice

bfagan1200 — Wed, 03 Mar 2010 00:26:00 GMT

I’m on my way back from a climate change workshop in Venice concerned with the social consequences of climate change. I was the only archaeologist there, my task to provide a historical background for a series of what turned out to be pretty esoteric presentations about such issues as climatic change and education. Many fo them went way over my head. When I first agreed to speak, it was mainly because I had never been to Venice, and, in fact, I spent almost more time wandering through a rain-soaked theme park that is the city—and, let’s face it, Venice is a wonderful one. But I was struck how some of the speakers picked up on some points about adapting to ancient climate change that I stressed—the necessity of efficient infrastructures for distributing food, the success of decisive leadership, the increasing vulnerability of urban societies to major climatic events. In fact, the delegates seemed surprised that archaeology has so much to offer. Again and again, I’m reminded that precious few people really know what archaeologists actually do, nor do they realize that we really can contribute perspectives to contemporary issues based on lessons from the past.

The plane is filled to the gills with people commuting from Venice to London. We are all soaked, thanks to an exceptionally high tide that flooded St. Mark’s Square and a torrential deluge that lasted all day. But the city was still magical. I’m glad I was not a Doge. The ducal palace was bone-chillingly cold on a wet February day! We are about to land at Gatwick, so I desist. . . .

Tutankhamun again...

bfagan1200 — Wed, 03 Mar 2010 00:25:00 GMT

I’m tired of King Tut. He’s almost a cliché for Egyptology, largely because his was the only undisturbed pharaoh’s tomb. Various exhibits of his grave furniture have dazzled crowds throughout the world and turned a short-lived, historically insignificant pharaoh into an ancient celebrity. The manner of his death has triggered speculation for genertations. He’s been a war casualty and a murder victim, killed by a blow to the head---the list goes on and on. Every time some new finding about his mummy surfaces, international headlines ensue. Now, at last, we have some decisive hypotheses. Genetic testing and other state-of-the-art radiological investigations that show the young king was a very sick teenager indeed. He suffered from a recent leg fracture, which might have contributed to a life-threatening condition in an immune system already weakened by malaria. An international team of researchers is now pretty sure that Tutankhamun died from a severe bout of malaria combined with a degenerative bone condition. He suffered from a bone disorder called Kohler Disease II, which, in itself, is not fatal. But he also endured avascular bone necrosis, which diminishes blood supply to the bone causing much weakened tissue. His left foot was structurally altered—which may account for the walking sticks in his tomb. Then there’s genetic fingerprinting, which appears to establish that Tutankhamun’s father was Akhenaten, the so-called heretic pharaoh. There are, of course, the inevitable questions about his parentage that will continue as long as there are Egyptologists.

So the Tutankhamun death mystery appears laid (forgive the pun) to rest. Hopefully, the cliché will recede into history, for there is so much fascinating research on ancient Egyptian society and its many nuances that is just as interesting as the fate of an obscure ruler.

Cro-Magnon writing?

bfagan1200 — Wed, 03 Mar 2010 00:23:00 GMT

Now the fun starts. Canadian archaeologist Genevieve von Petzinger has completed a comprehensive study iof all the small marks and signs on the walls of Cro-Magnon caves. He identifies 26 signs, all drawn in the same style, which appear again and again at numerous sites dating across the whole chronological span of late Ice Age art in western Europe. Many of the signs are simple, others are more complex, but they seem to have some form of meaning, perhaps even being a kind of written communication. Some of the symbols appear in pairs; there are hints of formal groupings, something characteristic of early pictographic scripts. Open angles and dots are found at 42 sites; other signs such as ladders are much less common. If von Petzinger’s withstands critical appraisal, and it is certainly impressive work, we may have the earliest evidence of symbolic meanings being communicated by signs in human history. This should not surprise us, given the very complex symbolic beliefs of today’s hunter-gatherer groups, but, of course, the question of questions is what did this seemingly simple symbolic system mean? Clearly, if it was a system, the meanings behind it were complex indeed. Alas, we will never know—but the von Petzinger study seems to confirm what we have long known—that the Cro-Magnons lived in a very complex symbolic world, something that their predecessors, the Neanderthals never enjoyed.

Cro-Magnon e-edition

bfagan1200 — Sun, 14 Feb 2010 17:59:00 GMT

I don't know if there are plans for an e-edition. Last I heard the publisher was negotiating with Amazon. I certainly hope there will be one. I know there is an audio edition.

If I learn there is to be an e-edition, I will blog aboiut it.

Paul Mellars congratulations

bfagan1200 — Sun, 14 Feb 2010 03:03:00 GMT

Paul Mellars, a well known Stone Age archaeologist, was a contemporary of mine at Cambridge University many years ago. He's an expert on the Neanderthals, also on the spread of modern humans into Europe, upon which he has written numerous really well argued papers, using new radiocarbon dates. For many years,m he has been a fellow of Corpus Christi College in Cambridge.

In the Queen's New Year's honors, Paul was knighted for his services to archaeology. This is a huge honor for a very distinguished scholar and for archaeology. This seems like as good a forum as any to raise my battered (and non-exiostent) Indiana Jones hat in salute to a very nice man and an exceptional scholar, whose is modest and self-effacing.

Heartfelt congratulations to Paul. He deserves this remarkable honor.

I'm very lucky to be a small part of an extraordinary generation of luminaries in the archaeological world, which include Colin (now Lord) Renfrew), Sir Barry Cunliffe, and Charles Higham, in far away New Zealand, whose work in Southeast Asia is truly extraordinary.

I'm back - new book!

bfagan1200 — Sun, 14 Feb 2010 02:45:00 GMT

Sorry, sorry, sorry about the long silence. I have just been meeting deadlines and traveling.

I have been very busy with two book projects, one of which appears on March 2. This is Cro-Magnon: How the Ice Age gave birth to the First Modern Humans (Bloomsbury Press, of course--my favorite publishers). This has taken a great deal of travel and library research as well as conversations with all kinds of experts. Basically, it's a book for a general audience about the first modern humans to colonize Europe, which also explores the relationships between the Neanderthals and incoming modern people, about 45,000 years ago. The story involves not only this complex relationship, but also delving in to the ultimate origins of modern people--and the Cro-Magnons--in tropical Africa. There are all kinds of heroes and villains here--the catastrophic Mt. Toba eruption of 75,000 years ago that almost wiped out humanity, the bitter cold of the late Ice Age, the Campanian eruption in the Naples area of Italy, which has only just been recognized, and, of course, the remarkable new radiocarbon dates that are redefining modern human settlement of Europe. I've drawn heavily on Arctic historic ethnography for the book, to make the people come alive: a bit of a gamble, but worth it, I think. After all there are only a certain number of (well-documented) ways in which you can kill a reindeer or trap an arctic ptarmigan. So, it's a book for the general audience which tries to be evocative and navigate through a very complex and sometimes contentious literature. I enjoyed writing it, and Bloomsbury have done a wonderful job of production, complete with a color insert (which cost an arm and a leg to include in terms of permissions, but it's worth it.)

Cro-Magnon is the title, largely because it's catchy, although, like so many other things, academically suspect. Cro-Magnon is a rockshelter close to the railroad station at Les Eyzies in southwestern France. It was here that railroad workers uncovered the first skeletons of Cro-Magnons (modern humans) in 1868. There isn't much to see there except a plaque in the shelter, which lies behind housing for the employees of the Çro-Magnon Hotel (strongly recommended, by the way). The correct academic term is "Anatomically Modern Humans", but I think Cro-Magnons is more fun for the lay reader. I am unrepentant: everyone knows what I mean!

The other book-- wait and see: 2011! Meanwhile, I'm trying to learn about Aleutian kayaks...

Archaeology Festival

bfagan1200 — Mon, 02 Feb 2009 02:03:00 GMT

This time the excuses are multiple. I’ve been on two short trips, one to Newport Beach Nautical Museum to give a lecture, the second to talk about ancient emergencies to a hospital group in San Francisco. Both audiences were enthusiastic and pleasant, which makes all the difference. Then I caught a short but nasty cold, which has laid me out for a week.

Fortunately, I’ve recovered just in time to fly to the UK for Current Archaeology’s Archaeology Festival in Cardiff. They asked me to go last year, but I couldn’t make it owing to a conflict, so it’s Cardiff instead of the British Museum. I’m going over a little early to adjust to jet lag, see colleagues in Durham, and, if the weather allows, take a walk on Hadrian’s Wall. I haven’t been there in a decade and certainly not in mid-winter. The forecast is for rain and snow, so we will see.

It’ll be a relief not to be writing for a change. I’ve just delivered the advanced draft of my latest book to my publisher for their detailed editorial comment, so the pressure’s off until they send me their comments for the final version. It’s a book on the Cro-Magnons, a subject that’s fascinated me since I was an undergraduate and was able to see some of the cave paintings by acetylene lamp—a memorable experience. I also visited the original Lascaux, although the replica is absolutely superb. The book is not about art—everyone writes about that—but about the Cro-Magnons as people. Of course the art factors into the story, but there is no much more than cave paintings and artifacts. I guess the book will appear either late this year or early next. Much depends on what the editor says and how long it will take me to revise it. The book was a fascinating and arduous project, involving not only extensive traveling but also a prolonged journey through some of the most intricate and obscure literature I have ever read. Anything will be much easier after this project, but I learned a huge amount.

And now for the legendary hospitality of United Airlines….

The Rush to Headlines

bfagan1200 — Fri, 16 Jan 2009 19:55:00 GMT

The classical archaeologist David Meadows, based, I think, in Canada, does us a wonderful service with his weekly Explorator bulletins that cover discoveries and headlines of the week. (You can subscribe for free by sending a blank e-mail message to Explorator-subscribe@yahoogroups. com) How he locates some of the stories, I know not, but he covers an astonishing range of topics, everything from paleoanthropology to obituaries, looting tourism, and blogs. He keeps me up to date on all kinds of important and more esoteric finds, as well as the hyped claims often put out by well-known academic journals, who should know better. David has a discerning eye and a nice sense of both the ridiculous and the downright zany, as well as a touch of skepticism. This is very much a labour of love, for which we should be very grateful. Did you know that gladiatorial performances are returning to Rome and that warfare practices in New Guinea may throw light on Ohio earthwork design? Thanks to David Meadows, you do now.

The Nature of Paleolithic Art

bfagan1200 — Mon, 05 Jan 2009 02:02:00 GMT

Yes, I have been quiet again, but with good reason. I have been finishing a book manuscript and developing the illustration program, always one of the worst jobs with any book—and archaeology is a picture intensive subject. Add to that the long Christmas break and its distractions. So I have plenty of excuses. Over the holidays, I had a chance to read the paleontologist Dale Guthrie’s magnum opus, The Nature of Paleolithic Art. This is a stupendous work, which draws on Dale’s expertise as a working paleontologist and talented artist. He’s spent a lifetime piecing together bones and other materials to study ancient human behavior and prehistoric environments. His central thesis argues that Cro-Magnon and other Stone Age art is a mode of expression that we can understand much better than we often assume. This is because a natural history perspective is a central part of any interpretation of an art tradition that depicts so many members of the late Ice Age bestiary. The book is really a series of essays that combines ethology, evolutionary biology, and human universals as a way of gaining access to the intangible realm that surrounded the art. Dale shows how the art was created by people of different ages, not just by male shamans, boosting his often-controversial ideas with his own observations in the field. Just the chapter on the so-called Venus figurines is worth the price of admission—the essay on voluptuous women is both insightful and right to the point. Time after time, Dale breaks new ground in what is one of the most important, if controversial, books on Paleolithic art to appear in many years. Doubtless many rock art aficionados will hate it, which is their privilege. But they should not set it aside without a thorough reading, for there is rich treasure in its pages, apart from a great deal of excellent, clear, and often funny writing. You’ll never look at rock art the same way after reading Guthrie.

Early blades?

bfagan1200 — Thu, 11 Dec 2008 02:06:00 GMT

Another long silence, alas. My apologies once again. I’ve been completely preoccupied with finishing the first draft of a book manuscript (of which more in a few months), which is now being disemboweled by experts. I promise more regular blogs in coming weeks.

A momentary distraction came with the announcement of the discovery of tools made with blade technology dating to at least 285,000 years ago. Startling at first glance, especially when you reflect that there is pretty general agreement that Homo sapiens, ourselves, first appeared in tropical Africa about 200,000 years ago. The date, obtained by the argon-argon method, which is far more accurate than the long-established potassium argon technique, comes from Gademotta in Ethiopia’s Rift Valley, known to be a crucible of human evolution. It coincides remarkably well with a second site, Kapthurin in Kenya, which dates to about the same time.

Both Gademotta and Kapthurin have yielded small and sophisticated blades and spear points, very different from the large hand axes and cleaving tools so widely used in Africa at the time. The Gademotta tools are made from obsidian, a fine-grained volcanic glass and come from below and above a volcanic layer, which yielded the date of 280,000 years ago.

For generations, archaeologists have equated stone technologies based on small, basically parallel-sided blades with modern humans. They’ve found them in Southern Africa dating to around 70,000 years ago, where such tools appear and disappear, as if the technology was used, then abandoned, perhaps in response to changing environmental conditions, notably drought. Now what is claimed to be blade technology dates back thousands of years earlier. What does this mean in human terms? Did the cognitive skills associated with modern humans develop gradually over a long period of time, or are these artifacts temporary developments, reflecting times of experimentation or purely local needs, or even the availability of exceptionally find raw materials?

We don’t know, of course, but it’s clear from Gademotta and Kapthurin that the development of modern humans both culturally and biologically was more complicated than perhaps we realize.

And so the archaeological dance goes on. . . .

Northern peoples

bfagan1200 — Wed, 29 Oct 2008 21:28:00 GMT

I’ve gotten interested inEskimo and Inuit ethnography, in some of the early accounts of hunting in someof the harshest environments on earth. What got me on this journey was a visitto the museum in Anchorage, which boasts of a magnificent display of Aleut andEskimo material culture. Anoraks made of bird membrane and seal stomach bags gotme into a quest for truly authentic accounts of hunting in the north and,almost immediately, to two books written by anthropologist Richard Nelson. His Hunters of the Northern Ice, publishedin 1969, is a study of Alaska’s Wainwright Eskimos at a time when manytraditional behaviors, hunting methods, and technologies were still in use. Hisessay on the qualities displayed by the hunter—collaboration, estimating risk, passingon information, and so on, go far beyond the sterile accounts of northernartifacts that you encounter in the works of earlier anthropologists likeCornelius Osgood. Osgood describes spears and awls, traps and houses, but yourarely get a sense of the people behind the artifacts. His books are like manymuseum displays—sterile and devoid of interest to anyone but a fellowspecialist. Even the people themselves would have had trouble deciphering his drearycatalogs. In Nelson’s study, the people and their frustrations, their successesand failures, come alive in a way that illuminates both present and pastbrilliantly.

He did a later studyof the Koyukon of the boreal forest, which is equally perceptive , as itrevolves around their world view. He describes how they would talk to bears asthey hunted them, of the great dependence of the people on caribou, of the traditionalpractices and beliefs that still were at the core of society.

Read Nelson and theclassic works of Farley Mowet. You’ll emerge with a profound appreciation ofthe skill and ingenuity of historic northerners. Not as sterile objects ofstudy, but as human beings. And where else will you learn that the best hidefor boot uppers comes from caribou legs?

I'm back...

bfagan1200 — Wed, 29 Oct 2008 21:13:00 GMT

Yes, I know, I know—too longsince I last blogged! All I can plead is an excuse is travel, a great deal ofit, and impending book deadlines. The fall is usually very busy with lecturesand other commitments on the road, this time to a wide variety oforganizations. These included a faculty retreat at Columbia Community Collegein Pasco, Washington, lectures to National Geographic and the SacramentoArchaeological Society, and to a conference of hospital administratorsresponsible for emergencies. All this time on the road culminated in a superbvisit to the University of Western Ontario at London, Ontario. Apart fromgiving a public lecture, I was corralled into answering questions about The Little Ice Age from amultidisciplinary group of graduate students for two-and-a-half hours. Theyasked perceptive and sometimes humbling questions. I realized once again howlittle I know about climatic and environmental issues.

Why a conference onemergencies you may well ask? This is actually the fourth time I’ve lectured tosuch groups and was the question I asked first time. The answer they gave wasthat human nature has not changed and that responses to emergencies in humanterms have probably remained the same. When I looked into it, indeed they had.Decisive leadership, controlling borders, rationing food, and the importance ofkin and family all resonated from history, issues as important then as they aretoday.

On this subject, if youhave not read Mike Davis’s Late VictorianHolocausts, with its harrowing descriptions of 19^th-centurytropical famines caused by monsoon failure and inept governance, do so. Davisestimates that between 20 and 30 milliontropical farmers perished of famine and famine related diseases during the nineteenthcentury—and that at a time when there were many fewer people living onagriculturally marginal lands. You’ll never think the same way about famineagain.

Something to think about inan era of impending drought and global warming.

Doing nothing, Franklin, and Global Warming

bfagan1200 — Mon, 18 Aug 2008 23:21:00 GMT

Yes, it's been a while. I got bogged down in manuscript revisions, then went on vacation and did nothing for ten days, which was absolutely wonderful. Now I'm back, trying to gather up the reins for what promises to be a very busy year. Anyhow, my apologies for the long silence. I have resolutely not been thinking about archaeology and the past for a few weeks, which was most refreshing. In fact, my greatest contribution to life today has been to wash two of the walls of our house, which were filthy. Now it's time to get down to the next big project.

Catching up with things, I came across a story about the Canadian Government sponsoring yet another search for Sir John Franklin's ships in the Arctic. Franklin perished aboard ship off King William Island in 1848. By then, his two ships, the Erebus and Terror, had been trapped in pack ice for two years. The survivors abandoned them, attempted to drag a ship's boat overland, and perished. In all, 129 men lost their lives in the tragedy. Numerous attempts have been made to locate the ships, so far without success. The Canadian forensic anthropologist Owen Beattie investigated some graves on King William Island in the 1980s and exhumed three burials, among them the well preserved body of Petty Officer John Torrington. Beattie believes that lead poisoning from canned foods may have been an important factor in many deaths.

Now the search for the ships is to resume, this time with the help not only of Inuit oral traditions that were recorded in 1923, to the effect that a deserted ship with numerous dead men aboard lay off the coast of King William Island, but with the very latest search technology. The expedition involves a Canadian icebreaker, sonar equipment, and several years of thorough search under official government sponsorship.

Why is Ottawa suddenly interested in a virtually forgotten tragedy? Because global warming has made much of the Northwest Passage more accessible in summer, there are good reasons for Canada to protect her sovereignty claims in the High Arctic. Oil, minerals, and natural gas are, as usual, the drivers in an area where Canada claims sovereignty and others, including the United States and Britain, dispute it. Until now, the Canadians have done little to maintain a strong presence in the north. Thanks to what is turning out to have been a convenient, but obviously regrettable, tragedy a century and a half ago, that's about to change.