Over the past decade, there has been a lot of attention drawn to the benefits of archaeological fieldwork on the mental health of participants (e.g., Finnegan 2016, Rathouse 2019, Everill et al. 2020, Dobat et al. 2022). And while it is wonderful to see people have such a positive experience with archaeology, I have to admit that it’s been a bit difficult for me to not feel a twinge of jealousy. As long time readers probably know, I’ve been pretty transparent with my own mental health struggles and how my time in the archaeology sector has worsened my depression and anxiety at times. And while I wish I was alone in experiencing this, others have also written about the ways in which working within the sector can risk negatively impacting mental health and wellbeing (e.g., Johnson 2014, Huddart 2019, Eifling 2021).

It should be acknowledged that most of the work being done on archaeology as a mental health intervention has focused on non-archaeologists – in other words, participants who are not part of the archaeology workforce and are volunteering as part of an excavation. As such, the context within which the act of undertaking archaeology is entirely different than what is experienced by those working as commercial archaeologists or researchers in the field – the volunteers are being invited into spaces in which their wellbeing is of the utmost importance to those organising and supervising the dig.
And again, it’s amazing to see the results of these projects! And I’m very much aware that this research was not meant to focus on archaeologists themselves, either. But it’s hard not to worry about how this can be utilised to further obscure the underlying issues of poor mental health amongst archaeologists, a topic is already difficult to discuss due to concerns of reception from others and fears of retaliation for such vulnerability. I can imagine the conflict that may already be occurring within some archaeologists’ thoughts – ‘if research is showing that archaeology can be good for mental health, why do I feel so bad? What’s wrong with me?’
So, how can archaeology be both a positive and a negative for those involved? Well, I think it boils down to the working environment and the tensions that arise when one becomes dependent on archaeology for their livelihood. Volunteers may deal with difficult working conditions (as this is often difficult to avoid when it comes to any type of outdoor fieldwork), but they are not tied to these conditions in the same way that paid archaeologists are. Unfortunately for many archaeologists, their working conditions continue to worsen, with research indicating that many employees still face bullying and harassment (Coltofean-Arizancu et al. 2023), poor wages (Stanton-Greenwood et al. 2024), and general instability in the sector (Belford 2021, Brami et al. 2023). Worsening conditions are leaving many to reconsider their continued employment as archaeologists, with others being forced out regardless due to slashed budgets and shuttered departments. With all of this in mind, it is not difficult to imagine how one may have a less-than-positive mindset as an archaeologist at the moment, let alone suffer from at least some negative impacts on one’s mental health and wellbeing in the field.
I don’t doubt that archaeology has the ability to be a positive factor in one’s life – and indeed, there have been times when I have felt great joy in working with archaeology! While I may have a (well-earned, no doubt) reputation as a ‘Negative Nellie’ in the field, I do still harbour a lot of love and passion for archaeology. But at the same time, I can’t ignore the ways in which the current environment within the sector has negatively impacted my own mental health, making it incredibly difficult for me to safely and comfortably navigate it as an archaeologist.
I don’t think that these goals – of ensuring both voluntary participants and paid workers benefit from the potential positive impact of archaeology on mental health and wellbeing – are intentionally in tension with one another. I just hope that while we champion these projects for the amazing work they’ve done, that we also consider how we can improve the wellbeing of those who are ultimately the foundation of the sector and whose poorly paid labour helps create the spaces within which others can benefit from so greatly. These projects show that ‘good archaeology’ can be done while at the same time protecting and valuing one’s mental health and wellbeing – so how come this isn’t the experience for all archaeologists, paid or voluntary?
References
Belford, P. (2021). Crisis? What crisis? Archaeology under pressure in the United Kingdom. Archäologische Informationen, 44, 9-24. https://doi.org/10.11588/ai.2021.1.89110
Brami, M., Emra, S., Muller, A., Preda-Bălănică, B., Irvine, B., Milić, B., Malagó, A., Meheux, K. and Fernández-Götz, M. (2023). A precarious future: Reflections from a survey of early career researchers in archaeology. European Journal of Archaeology, 26(2), 226-250. https://doi.org/10.1017/eaa.2022.41
Coltofean-Arizancu, L., Gaydarska, B., Plutniak, S., Mary, L., Hlad, M., Algrain, I., Pasquini, B., Vandevelde, S., Stamataki, E., Janežič, P., Wouters, B., & Sengeløv, A. (2023). Harassment, assault, bullying and intimidation (HABI) in archaeology: a Europe-wide survey. Antiquity, 97(393), 726–744. https://doi.org/10.15184/aqy.2023.58
Dobat, A.S., Dobat, A.S. and Schmidt, S. (2022). Archaeology as “self-therapy”: Case studies of metal detecting communities in Britain and Denmark. In P Everill and K Burnell (eds) Archaeology, Heritage, and Wellbeing: Authentic, Powerful, and Therapeutic Engagement with the Past, 145-161. Routledge.
Eifling, K.P. (2021) Mental Health and the Field Research Team. Advances in Archaeological Practice, 9(1), 10-22. https://doi.org/10.1017/aap.2020.51
Everill, P., Bennett, R., & Burnell, K. (2020). Dig in: an evaluation of the role of archaeological fieldwork for the improved wellbeing of military veterans. Antiquity, 94(373), 212–227. https://doi.org/10.15184/aqy.2019.85
Finnegan, A. (2016). The biopsychosocial benefits and shortfalls for armed forces veterans engaged in archaeological activities. Nurse Education Today, 47, 15–22. https://doi.org/10.1016/j.nedt.2016.03.009
Huddart, C. (2019). Opening Doors: Recognising, Supporting, and Talking about Mental Health. The Archaeologist, 107, 4-5.
Johnson, E. (2014). Why Archaeologists Must Stop Working for Free: A Response Inspired by The #FreeArchaeology Debate. Papers from the Institute of Archaeology, 24(1): 20, 1-5. http://dx.doi.org/10.5334/pia.473
Rathouse, W. (2019). Inclusion and recovery: Archaeology and heritage for people with mental health problems and/or autism. In T Darvill, K Barrass, L Drysdale, V Heaslip, and Y Staelens (eds) Historic Landscapes and Mental Well-being, 44-53. Archaeopress Publishing.
Stanton-Greenwood, L., Connolly, D., Tideswell, L., Williams, G. (2024) Poverty Impact Report. British Archaeological Jobs and Resources.
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[…] Animal Archaeology Over the past decade, there has been a lot of attention drawn to the benefits of archaeological fieldwork on the mental health of participants (e.g., Finnegan 2016, Rathouse 2019, Everill et al. 2020, Dobat et al. 2022). And while it is wonderful to see people have such a positive experience with archaeology, I have to… […]
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