I am old enough to remember the introduction of immersive ‘time travel’ type heritage displays. They often involved using electric ‘cars’ to progress through a reconstruction, or series of reconstructions, of the past. There were even sounds, and appropriate smells, along the way. I, along with many others, loved them. Today, I think most people will have experienced this sort of thing.

I can remember some heated debate about the ‘sanitizing’ of the picture they presented. There were no horrible wounds or injuries, no distressing sights, the acoustic background inevitably contained bird song, and bad smells were confined to the merest whiff of body odour. Rats and other vermin were invariably cute, and the people, generally, well fed, and healthy. It is generally the same when you watch a television drama, or read a novel. Our view of the past was, in essence, comfortable.

Recently, however, I’ve begun to notice that things are changing. Museums are tackling more challenging aspects of the past and the displays can be thought provoking, even disturbing. The realities of our inhumanity to each other can linger in the mind long after we have got home and poured that restorative gin.

It is the same with television and novels. Producers are less worried about exploring material that might once have been deemed ‘unsuitable’. And novels can be downright depressing. Not surprisingly, perhaps, living through the current twenty-first century pandemic, I have tended to go for lighter, uplifting, reading matter. I have, perhaps, avoided thinking too deeply about the awfulness of life. Inasmuch as I thought about it at all, it did not worry me that heritage interpretation presented a rosy view of the past. We all know that the past was often difficult and gruesome. Don’t we? Did we really need to be reminded of the horrors?

I have been trying to challenge myself to stick with more difficult reading matter, and it is not that hard. Indeed, I have found it rewarding. Maybe this just says more about myself, but I am beginning to feel that we can no longer take the downside for granted. We are never going to touch on all the varied aspects of life. But we do ourselves no favours by blocking out the bits we don’t like.

There is scope for new interpretations in all fields of life. There is definitely scope to embark on new trains of thought, new challenges, new ways of seeing the past. Discomfort is relative, but it is no bad thing to accept our mutual humanity and share the bad as well as the good.

If you want to start, there are some excellent new museums displays emerging. And I can recommend this as an excellent novel that will turn your ideas about a popular period of history (and what might constitute a ‘happy’ ending) on their head: How Much of These Hills is Gold by C Pam Zhang.

It seems to me that I’ve been telling people that archaeology is ‘becoming more mainstream’ for a long time now. In reality archaeology has always had a popular face, though I accept that the level of popularity of the subject has gone up and down over the years. In the 1920s and 30s Gordon Childe was writing for a general audience and his books sold well. In the 1950s the successful television programme ‘Animal, Vegetable, Mineral?’ turned archaeologists such as Mortimer Wheeler and Glyn Daniel into household names. From the mid 1960s till the beginning of the 90s the BBC aired a regular archaeology documentary under the name, ‘Chronicle’, and the first episodes of ‘Time Team’ appeared on Channel 4 soon after that.

Archaeologists have sometimes been slow to waken to the benefits of public interpretation, however. In the 1980s English Heritage (as was) published ‘Visitors Welcome’, a guide to opening your excavation to the public – it seems amazing that we needed to be prompted. Today, there are thriving Young Archaeologists Clubs across the UK, there must be something on television most weeks (if only a repeat of a programme about Stonehenge), and it is hard to find a day when some archaeological press release does not make its way into the media. Social Media adds a new dimension with many, many active pages and posts.

Of course, there are also the many areas of 21st century life that rely on archaeology as an essential element. Where would HS2 be without the archaeologists who characterise and record the ancient deposits it will displace? What about all the new building and infrastructure that relies on archaeologists to investigate old building and infrastructure? And the role of forensic archaeologists who help the police and other institutions with crime scenes and the remains of atrocities. Archaeologists are a diverse bunch and we are integrated into everyday life in ways that many people are unaware of. You are rarely more than a few steps away from the work of someone who has been trained in one or other of the many specialisms that the profession embraces.

The results of all this labour underpin our sense of society. It is clear that some of us need to be working in order to turn out fodder for the narrative-hungry machine that we have created. Nevertheless, the question, ‘why study archaeology’ is still valid. I’ve also heard that, now that there is a very real cost to a university education (even here in Scotland, albeit less than in other parts of the UK), both parents and children are thinking carefully before committing themselves to the financial outlay involved. Surely, it would make more sense to study something that will lead more directly to a well-paid job?

Of course, this begs the question as to why archaeology is rarely relatively well-paid, especially at recent graduate level. I’ve heard new graduates complaining that their hard-won degrees have merely equipped them for work pushing barrows. Let’s set that aside, patience, the first years of an archaeology career are rarely glamourous, I spent several years sorting through gravels, but it is worth it in the end. Then, one might ask about alternative routes into an archaeology career. Sure, there are many, some more vocational than others.

But, I’m interested in those for whom a career is not necessarily the end goal. When I applied to study archaeology at university you still got interviews from many places and I have to admit that I was a bit precious. I wanted to be an archaeologist and I did not have the maturity to see that there was a wider picture. Several of the places where I was interview expressed surprise that I actually aspired to enter archaeology itself and I have to confess that I ruled them out as possible options for study on that ground alone.

I’m better informed these days. We need people to study archaeology and then go on into jobs as teachers, librarians, journalists, nurses, politicians, and policy makers – everything. Only by embedding archaeology deeply into the population of the British Isles can we be sure that the future of the discipline is assured. We need people who are enthused by the subject to pass on their enthusiasm in their everyday work. We need those in government to care about the past.

It is not just about the significance of the subject, though. There are other reasons to study archaeology. The arguments about the historical relevance of wider views, the application of lessons learnt, the development of community roots and a sense of place are all well-rehearsed. So too are discussions of mental discipline, skill-sets gained, and a sense of achievement. All overlook a simple truth.

Archaeology will enrich your life.

Whatever you do.

After you have studied archaeology, a walk in the countryside will never be the same again. Neither will your explorations of the city.

Archaeology is a discipline that teaches you to look on the world with new eyes and to think about what you see. I know that I am biased, but I would argue that, more than anything else you could study, it brings together aspects of all other ‘exploratory’ disciplines. It lifts you out of your box and opens the gate to a new view of the world we experience. It is truly a life science.

Now, that is no bad reason to find out more about it.

Being an archaeologist does have its boring moments, but at times like this it is so much fun!.

I have much enjoyed a couple of programmes on television recently: Neanderthals – Meet Your Ancestors. Presented by a new name (to me at least), Ella Al-Shamahi, the series gets over some serious concepts and is a good example of the way in which it is possible to use modern technology (and expectations) to put forward detailed points without dumbing down.

Of course, there were some things that annoyed me. It appeared to start with the premise, which always drives me mad, that the presenter is a highly-knowledgeable expert who has undertaken the research single-handed. In most cases this is followed by a programme that negates the contributions of the numerous academics who will be interviewed over the next hour or so (and yes, I have been one of those academics, and yes, maybe I have a grudge). It seems to be a popular premise, driven, no doubt, by our worship of the celebrity and distrust of experts. In this case, however, there were two differences that worked to allay my fears. Firstly, Ella Al-Shamahi actually is a palaeoanthropologist, specialising in Neanderthals and the Out-of Africa dispersal, and currently studying for a PhD at University College London. Apparently in her spare time she is a stand-up comic, thus elevating her considerably in my eyes. Secondly, once underway, it was clear that she intends to confine her role to that of presenter: interpreting and entwining the detailed contributions of a plethora of specialists, each keen to make a particular point. At times she is more like a chairperson, mediating and encouraging discussion among the panel of experts.

The programmes incorporate some gimmicky modern technology, notably using the actor Andy Serkis to bring our Neanderthal ancestors to life using adaptive performance capture. But they don’t stray away from the discussion of complex issues such as the size and function of the hyoid bones and the niceties of Neanderthal vocalisation. Overall, they provide a successful background to current theories about Neanderthals and their way of life. I had to wait for much of episode one for the obligatory mammoth (which pretty quickly ended up being eaten), and there is some discussion of the world in which the Neanderthal communities of northern Europe lived, though the focus was on the people themselves.

That leads me to perhaps the most controversial aspect. The Neanderthal contribution to modern populations. There was a fascinating discussion of the many ways in which Neanderthal DNA survives and the roles it plays today. And, it goes further than that. Imagine what it must have been like to live in a world populated by not one, but several, hominin species. How much did they recognise one another? How much did they interact? Was there more empathy than that shown today by our own population to the great apes. I hope so. But, while we are all very keen to send off personal DNA samples and find out the apparent percentage of Neanderthal, Viking, or hunter-gatherer in our past, I wonder if we would be quite so keen to promote it in the present. Not keen at all, if our recent social attitudes to those who look different or come from different places, is anything to go by. Diversity of makeup is, it seems, fine as long as it is confined to history. It is ironic that we boast about our diverse origins then vote for insularity.

Of course, the Neanderthal contribution to our present makeup is safely that of ancient history. But it is an important contribution nonetheless. This series has done much to dispel the image of Neanderthals as knuckle-dragging savages. It is, hopefully, only the start of research that will open up the sophisticated, specialised world of the Neanderthal population of Europe in ways that we, ‘old-fashioned Cro-Magnons’, can understand it. Meanwhile, it also gets us thinking about our current position, predilections, and future, and that is no bad thing.

A new television series, ‘My year with the tribe’, has already received mixed reviews for twenty-first century voyeurism and the staunch way in which our hero, Will Millard, pushes on with his plans to film an ‘untouched’ tribe, despite early indications that the activities of previous television teams and wealthy tourists now direct the authentic life-styles of his targets. The series, which airs on a Sunday evening on BBC Two, is set in the Indonesian province of Papua and concerns the Korowai people.

My own disappointment came early on when Millard commented that he saw the Korowai as: ‘our link to our own pasts, you know, back when we were all living in the forest’. I thought that we had abandoned that type of simplistic Darwinian viewpoint years ago. It is wrong for all sorts of reasons. The Korowai are not a link to our past:

1. They live in the twenty-first century;
2. They live in Indonesia.

Never mind the fact that you are talking deep prehistory if you want to go back to a time when we lived in any sort of rainforest resembling the homelands of Papua. To talk as if the Korowai are some sort of throwback, ignores thousands of years of development. Whatever their lifestyles, communities today have all benefitted from millennia of experience. Geographical and cultural dissonance do not equate to time travel. Evolution, as set out in the nineteenth century, was a significant theoretical advance in the way we thought about the world, but it has been developed and modified since Darwin first proposed it. It is no longer regarded as a straightforward path from ‘simple’ to ‘complex’, ‘primitive’ to ‘civilised’. Life is more complicated, twenty-first century life, infinitely more so. The Korowai occupy an environment that is worlds away from that of western Europe, at any time. Their lifestyle has evolved to fill it. To suggest that they represent some sort of evolutionary standstill is to belittle them.

Nevertheless, I think I am going to like this series, though for all the wrong reasons. In many ways I am amazed that the BBC still condone such apparently naive, poorly prepared filmaking. There is a horrible fascination to watching it. In an ironic twist to Millard’s colonial introduction, we quickly find that the Korowai have, indeed, adapted perfectly to fit the twenty-first century. So much so, in fact, that they enter into convincing discussions of the treehouse dwellings and lack of modern clothing that he wishes to film. Plans are made, the TV crew are excited and set off through the rainforest with their local guides. What we don’t, at first, see are the local fixers returning home to round up family members and don their penis gourds before setting out to occupy the show homes, high in the canopy, which they now reserve for the entertainment of rich foreign visitors. It is all a performance.

I’m not sure whether I am sad, or just resigned, to find that in the ultimate extension of the capitalist dream, the Korowai have monetarised their traditional activities. Given a willing market, why shouldn’t they. Though I do detect a serious element of exploitation as western tourists pay miniscule amounts of money to view traditional undertakings. It is a familiar dilemma: sadness at the loss of cultural staples measured against happiness that people have been able to take on at least some of the trappings of a more comfortable life. I remember an architectural historian bemoaning the picturesque ruined crofts that litter the Orkney countryside and comparing them unfavourably with modern box-houses, only to be told in no uncertain terms that Orcadians preferred homes that were easier and cheaper to heat and clean and where nooks and crannies for cobwebs and dust were minimised.

Of course, in this case, the modern Korowai village does not have all the comforts to which we are accustomed, so I am left with a feeling of unease. But I will continue to watch. I’m looking forward to seeing just who is leading who. It is quite fun to watch an archetypical television presenter finding out that he is not quite so much in control as he thought he was. Having said that, there are hints that the final episode may portray Millard’s subjects losing patience at his relentless invasion of their privacy. Given his desire to arrive unannounced and without a full grasp of their language or culture, one wonders whether they really understood the implications of his plans. The series may not tell us anything about archaeology, and not much about the lifestyle of either party, but it is a great lesson in the diversity of twenty-first century thought processes.

Reconstruction of the face of Cheddar Man: Channel 4.

One of the reasons I love archaeology is the way in which it challenges us to recognise and rethink our preconceptions. It is very easy to live in the cosy world of today and focus on reassuring feelings of stability. Practices of mindfulness, among others, encourage us to ‘live for the moment’ and, amidst the insecurites of the present, this is not something with which I would wish to disagree. Nevertheless, I would add the caveat that there are also advantages to be obtained from a slightly longer term view and that perceived ‘problems’, when put into the context of past millennia, can diminish.

One recent story has got me thinking about the way in which an understanding of change can benefit both our understanding of ourselves and our understanding of the world in which we live. Both have undergone dramatic changes over the past millennia – but sometimes we forget. On the 7^th February, The Guardian was one of several papers to reveal, through DNA analysis of skeletal remains in the Cheddar Gorge caves, that those who lived in Britain at the end of the last Ice Age had dark skin and blue eyes.

For some people this was quite shocking news, but it is hardly ground-breaking. In 2010 I was able to report on research by Professor Johann Moan at the University of Oslo that suggested that the prevalence of pale skin in northern Europe was related to a reduction in vitamin D in the diet around the time that people switched to farming. Since then, several studies in various countries have looked at different aspects of this. It is, however, information that has taken a while to leak out into the general understanding and, as such, the research, a project at the Natural history Museum, is important. It has caught the public eye (or ear).

The research at Cheddar has been undertaken as part of a Channel 4 documentary looking at the study of ancient DNA. In the newspaper report the archaeological specialists take the opportunity to comment on the way in which their research sheds new light on our twenty-first century racial stereotypes; debunking, for example, the way in which we tend to regard skin colour as an indication of recent global origin. Varying skin colour, it seems, is a relatively modern feature of the human race, and its supposed links with geography are even more modern.

It sounds as if the programme is going to be one to watch. Our hunter-gatherer ancestors are rarely afforded the luxury of a programme to themselves, and it is always good to see some of the more specialised aspects of archaeology laid bare. The study of ancient DNA is a complex subject that has, on occasion, been open to misconception. There is even a link to my own current work interests: the submerged landscape, known to us as Doggerland, that lay between Britain and the continent provides the context for the movement in to Britain of the communities of hunter-gatherers who came here at the end of the Ice Age. The ancestors of ‘Cheddar Man’ must have been among these groups. (Though I disagree with the Guardian reporter who called this landmass a ‘land-bridge’ – surely an area that stretched from north of the Humber to south of the Thames was more than a land-bridge?). It is nice, though, to be reminded that the world our ancestors knew was a very different world – a world, ironically, in which for much of the time Britain was physically part of the continental landmass. I still come across people who are not aware of this, so it is a message worth repeating.

One thing does fascinate me: the title, apparently, will be First Brit: Secrets of the 10,000 Year Old Man. I think that I might feel slightly miffed if I were one of the many thousand people who lived here prior to 10,000 years ago, going back to those who left their footprints at Happisburgh on the Norfolk coast some 800,000 years ago. OK, so it was not known as Britain that far back, but it was not Britain 10,000 years ago either. The cynical might detect the use of hyperbole to bring in viewers. The programme press information justifies the use of the term ‘First Brit’ on the grounds that this is the oldest complete skeleton. The Natural History staff note that it provides the oldest complete DNA genome we have to date. You can tell that they are excited.

I’m still concerned by the use of superlatives that will, inevitably, be superseded with time. I’d love to focus on the intrinsic interest of archaeology without dressing it up. But it gets the message across. And I know where I will be on the 18^th February. Glued to the television!