Anarchy in the UK…Archaeological Sector? A Brief Introduction into an Alternative Approach to Archaeology

One of my goals for 2019 is to try and make my work even more accessible – including conference and journal papers! I know that those can be hard to read due to jargon and the general sleep-inducing nature of the academic writing style, so I’ll be writing accompanying blog posts that are more accessible (and hopefully more fun!) to read with just about the same information. And if you’re a nerd, I’ll also add a link to the original paper too. Today’s blog post comes from a paper I presented at the 2018 Theoretical Archaeology Group Conference – you can find the full text here.

If you think about the word “anarchist”, you probably have a very specific image that comes to mind – some sort of “punk” masked up and dressed all in black, probably breaking windows or setting fires. And while that may be accurate praxis for some who wave the black flag (and also completely valid!), I’d argue that is doesn’t necessarily do the actual concept of “anarchism” justice…although, to be honest, I do love to wear black clothes

So then…what is anarchism? And how can it relate to archaeology?

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A slide from my original TAG 2018 presentation on Anarchism and Archaeology showing various images of what most people consider to be “anarchist”.

To use Alex Comfort’s definition (1996), anarchism is “the political philosophy which advocates the maximum individual responsibility and reduction of concentrated power” – anarchy rejects centralised power and hierarchies, and instead opts for returning agency to the people without needing an authority, such as a government body. Anarchy places the emphasis on communal efforts, such as group consensus (Barclay 1996).

So, how does this work with archaeology? Why would you mix anarchy and archaeology together? For starters – this isn’t a new concept! There have been many instances of “anarchist archaeology” discussions, from special journal issues (Bork and Sanger 2017) to dedicated conference sessions (see the Society for American Archaeology 2015 conference). There have also been a few instances of anarchist praxis put into archaeological practice: for example, there is the Ludlow Collective (2001) that worked as a non-hierarchical excavation team, as well as the formation of a specifically anarchist collective known as the Black Trowel Collective (2016).

To me, an Anarchist Archaeology is all about removing the power structures (and whatever helps to create and maintain these structures) from archaeology as a discipline, both in theory and practice. We often find that the voices and perspectives of white/western, cis-heteronormative male archaeologists are overrepresented. Adapting an anarchist praxis allows us to push back against the active marginalisation and disenfranchisement of others within our discipline. This opens up the discipline to others, whose perspectives were often considered “non-archaeology” and therefore non-acceptable for consideration by the “experts” (i.e. – archaeologists) In Gazin-Schwartz and Holtorf’s edited volume on archaeology and folklore, this sentiment is echoed by a few authors, including Collis (1999, pp. 126-132) and Symonds (1999, pp. 103-125).

And hey, maybe logistically we’ll never truly reach this level of “equitable archaeology” – after all, this is a long, hard work that requires tearing down some of the so-called “fundamental structures” of the discipline that have always prioritised the privileged voice over the marginalised. But adapting an anarchist praxis isn’t about achieving a state of so-called “perfection”; rather, it’s a process of constantly critiquing our theories and assumptions, always looking for ways to make our field more inclusive and to make ourselves less reliant on the problematic frameworks that were once seen as fundamental.

It’s a destructive process for progress…but hey, isn’t that just the very nature of archaeology itself?

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Enjoy this poorly Photoshopped emblem of Anarchist Archaeology!

References

Barclay, H. (1996) People Without Government: An Anthropology of Anarchy. Kahn and Averill Publishers.

Black Trowel Collective (2016) Foundations of an Anarchist Archaeology: a Community Manifesto. Savage Minds. Retrieved from https://savageminds.org/2016/10/31/foundations-of-an-anarchist-archaeology-a-community-manifesto/.

Bork, L. and Sanger, M.C. (2017) Anarchy and Archaeology. The SAA Archaeological Record. 17(1).

Collis, J. (1999) Of ‘The Green Man’ and ‘Little Green Men’. In Gazin-Schawrtz, A. and Holtorf, C.J. (editors) Archaeology and Folklore. Routledge. pp. 126-132.

Comfort, A. (1996) Preface. In Barclay, H. People Without Government: An Anthropology of Anarchy. Kahn and Averill Publishers.

Ludlow Collective (2001) Archaeology of the Colorado Coal Field War, 1913-1914. Archaeologies of the Contemporary Past. Routledge. pp. 94-107.

Symonds, J. (1999) Songs Remembered in Exile? Integrating Unsung Archives of Highland Life. In Gazin-Schawrtz, A. and Holtorf, C.J. (editors) Archaeology and Folklore. Routledge. pp. 103-125.

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The Sunshine Blogger Award

This week has been extremely hectic for me, so unfortunately, if you were looking forward to reading a (somewhat) well-researched piece on…I don’t know, how the number of pixels in Skyrim relates to some archaeological principle or something…you’re a bit out of luck this week. Instead, thanks to a nomination for the Sunshine Blogger Award from Her STEM Story, I’ve got an excuse to write about something non-archaeological for once!

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The Sunshine Blogger Award is completely driven by community nominations – once received, the awarded blogger answers questions that accompanied the original nomination post, nominates several other bloggers to pass the award along to, and provides a new set of questions for them to answer! It’s a great way to showcase other blogs, especially those of us that work in science communication.

So, without further ado…

Questions (and Answers!)

1. What will your blog be like in 5 years?

Either it will be a much better version of the blog you’re currently reading, or the PhD will break my brain and will cause my blog to just be incoherent ramblings and complaining…whatever comes first, I guess.

2. What is it that you enjoy the most about blogging?

Since starting this blog, I’ve been connected to so many great people, academics and non-academics alike, who share similar research interests. Many have become personal friends of mine, too! Plus, this blog has opened up a lot of opportunities for me, which is great for someone with social anxiety who could never do this sort of networking in person without being physically ill or combusting.

3. What is the purpose of your blog? 

Originally, it started as a means for me to stay productive during a break from my PhD research after a serious mental health crisis. I was able to write about archaeology, but in a fun and informal way that didn’t cause stress. For the most part, that’s still the main purpose of my blog, but now I also use it as a means of writing about stuff that interests me that perhaps would never get funded as a proper research project (unless anyone out there wants to give me money to do more work on theme park archaeology?) as well as dole out advice that literally no one asked for!

4. Do you listen to music when writing your blog? 

I mostly listen to podcasts, to be honest – but when I do listen to music, I usually stick to atmospheric video game soundtracks (please enjoy my Skyrim ambience playlist, thank you).

5. Do your family & friends know about your blog? 

Listen, when I was 15 years old I was proudly posting my DeviantArt Harry Potter fan art on my Facebook and Myspace, so of course they know! And everyone has been really supportive of my work, which I am very thankful for.

6. Do you do any writing other than your blog? 

Well, if we’re not including fancy pants academic writing, I’ve also written for other websites: Her STEM Story, the Female Scientist, and FemSTEM, just to name a few.

7. What was your reaction to being nominated for the Sunshine Blogger Award? 

Surprise, really. I’m still shocked people read this blog!

8. How long does it take you to write an average blog post? 

It depends – I usually will have the idea for a blog post months in advance and will occasionally jot some notes down every other week. Once I actually sit down to write, however, it can take me between one hour to an entire day. Mostly because I procrastinate, though…

9. Why did you start your blog? 

As I wrote in a previous answer, this blog was a way for me to continue to be productive as a researcher and science communicator while I was taking a bit of time off from my PhD work. It was a really helpful way to still be active in the community without having the stress of mandated deadlines or grading anxiety.

10. If you could develop a cure for any virus, which one would it be? 

I would develop a cure for procrastination, which plagues me to this day and caused me to not write this blog post for at least three days. Procrastination counts as a virus, right? I’m not that type of scientist…

11. What do you spend most of your spare time doing? (other than blogging).

Would it surprise you that I spend most of my time playing video games? Also, I enjoy procrastinating, sleeping, and eating sweets.

My Nominations

Originally, the Sunshine Blogger Award rules ask for 11 new nominations, but I’m afraid that would end up with me re-nominating people who have already won! So, for the sake of brevity, here are just a few blogs (specifically from archaeologists/anthropologists) who I nominate…click through to check them out!

My Questions for My Nominees

  1.  What are the main aims for your particular blog?
  2. Why choose blogging as your form of communication?
  3. What is one positive thing that has come from blogging?
  4. …and, what is one negative thing?
  5. How do you feel about science communication/academic-based blogging?
  6. Do you think there are some ways that scicomm/academic blogs can improve, in general?
  7. Who is your target audience for your blog?
  8. How do you decide what you’re going to write about?
  9. How has your career and personal life changed, if at all, since starting your blog?
  10. Is there any story behind the name of your blog?
  11. What is some advice that you can give someone who wants to start blogging?

On Excavation Season, or How to Battle the Great Outdoors With a Trowel

It’s just about excavation season for most of us in archaeology! I will be excavating for a few weeks so this blog will go on a bit of a hiatus until I return – until then, here’s a few tips for anyone about to set off on their first excavation this summer.

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A busy day excavating the site of Swandro in the Orkney Islands.

The weather is getting warmer, which means for many of us archaeologists, its excavation season! Some of you might be about to set off on your first excavation as well, and I can understand if you’re getting a bit nervous…about a month before I was off to my first excavation (also my first trip abroad!), I nearly got cold feet and cancelled. But thankfully I went ahead and basically changed the direction of my career after that – I don’t know if I’d be a zooarchaeologist in the UK right now otherwise. So for those of you who may be freaking out a bit about your first excavation, here’s a few tips that might make things go a bit more smoothly!

  • Check, Double Check, and then Triple Check Transportation

Some archaeologists have an easy commute to their sites, but most of us have a fair bit of travelling to do to get to where the excavation is happening. So be sure you have your travel plans locked up! Especially if you’ll be doing international travel – it probably sounds dorky, but I literally travel with a folder full of my paperwork (flight tickets, hotel bookings, visa information, etc.) these days. My first excavation included a series of missed flights that ended up costing me an extra $250, so I am also very strict on being at the airport early. But hey, better safe than sorry, right?

Also be sure to figure out how you’ll be getting to your accommodations for the duration of your excavation, or if you’re supposed to be meeting your team somewhere. There’s nothing worse than getting stranded at an airport…

…yes, I do know what that feels like, thanks for forgetting to pick me up, Mom.

  • Pack for the weather…

Depending on where and how long you’re going, you’ll want to be sure to pack for any sort of weather you might run into! Especially if you’re travelling far enough that there is an extreme difference in weather between your places of departure and arrival. In general, though, you’ll probably want some waterproof items of clothing (you can also buy waterproofing spray/liquid as well – in my experience they have been handy in a pinch). Even if it’s a warm summer, you might want to also bring some outerwear just in case – better safe than sorry!

  • …but also pack for the work.

Between your rain coat and parka, however, make sure you pack your work clothes too! Let’s be real: archaeology is dirty work. Even if you have access to the best laundry services on site (I wish!), you probably don’t want to wear your favourite clothes to site. I personally rock some cargo trousers and a tank top when I excavate – oh, and with a jumper too. Layering is your friend, so be sure to bring tops that can easily be layered for any situation. Be sure to check what sort of footwear you’ll need as well – most excavations will require that you have steel toe work boots.

  • Remember to cover up your trowel!

This is a pretty simple tip, but it’s also easy to forget! If your trowel doesn’t have a case or cover, it might be a good idea to wrap it up in a bag. Otherwise you may find your trowel has done some damage to your favourite clothes while in your luggage. Or, if you’re me, find yourself sitting on your trowel and getting stabbed in the butt. Ouch

  • Pack. Unpack. Pack.

This is a basic travel tip that I follow for anytime I need to pack for something. I’m notorious for bringing way too much, so to minimise the extra stuff, I’ve taken to packing up my suitcase, unpacking, and then packing again with some items removed. It may be a lot of work, but you’ll be thankful when you don’t have to lug around a 100 lb suitcase across an island to find your accommodations.

  • Relax and enjoy yourself.

Fieldwork is a lot of strenuous work, but don’t freak out! It’s a learning experience, so don’t feel pressured into being a perfect shovel bum. Ask for help when you need to, take breaks when you can, keep yourself safe and relax! You’re contributing to some great archaeological work, it’ll be an amazing experience.

Oh, and definitely take advantage of days off. Explore the area, do new things, just enjoy while you can!

I’m off for excavation for a few weeks, so see you when I’m back! If you’re interested in my excavation, feel free to follow us on Facebook, Twitter, and WordPress. We’ll be blogging about our work and posting lots of photos!

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Sorry to everyone whose face I’ve blurred out but let’s just focus on how stylish I am on site.

 

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When the Stress of the PhD Meet The Anxiety of the Visa: On International Postgraduate Studies, Financial Anxieties, and Everything Else That Scares Me

This week I had scheduled a different blog post to be published, but I felt as though it didn’t seem right to not write about something that has been on my mind lately.

And by “lately”, I mean “for the past few years”.

As many, if not all, of you know by now due to reading this blog and/or following my daily Twitter rants, I’m an international student. Since moving to the U.K. in the autumn of 2015, I have been on two different visas and had spent lots of loaned money to maintain my residence here.

There’s recently been a lot of discourse surrounding the precariousness of early career jobs in academia, and for good reason – the further marketisation of higher education is leaving more and more post-PhDs out in the cold with only poorly paid, short contract jobs to live on. Those of us in the middle of PhD research have extremely bleak futures ahead of us if this continues.

What hasn’t gotten as much attention (at least, as far as I have seen) is the plight of those of us who are battling the dire circumstances of the academic job market and the burden of being international.

Let me first say that despite the difficulties I have faced, I am undoubtedly one of the luckier ones. I’ve had the ability to take out federal student loans to cover my costs, as well as financial help and general support from friends and family from both sides of the Pond. Coming from the US, I most likely had less hoops to jump through to get my visa, in comparison to many others.

But that doesn’t mean it isn’t a huge burden on my life. Besides worrying about my current PhD work and the near future of having to look for postdocs afterwards, I also constantly have to worry about meeting the conditions for my visa.

Will I have enough money saved up to afford all of the fees for applying for a Tier 2 visa? What if the NHS surcharge continues to double, as it is scheduled to do in the upcoming year? How many days have I spent outside the UK and is it enough to eventually deport me?

International academics are expected to constantly keep track of these ever changing laws and policies, which results in many of us in constant fear of the Home Office, even if we have filled out all the paperwork needed and have everything taken care of. It’s so easy for them to make a small change that will turn out world upside down!

That sounds like an exaggeration but I’ve experienced it myself. Progressing from my MSc to my PhD, I was, at the time, still on my first visa from the Masters programme, which wouldn’t expire for another 6 months. Prior to this, the rule was that you could apply for a new visa within the U.K. as long as your current visa had not expired. Unfortunately for me, this had recently changed, and so I was booking an extremely last minute flight back to the US to apply for a new visa. A couple thousand pounds later, and I was sorted with a new visa – but financially, I have yet to truly recover from that last minute trip.

And, of course, it’s not just about the financial burden, either. Contrary to popular belief, most of us who study and live in the U.K. for several years end up cultivating a life and family here. That the Home Office (and other institutions apparently) believe we can uproot our lives, tear ourself away from the people we love and abandon the places we call home, just because we lack the funds to match the ludicrous fees and financial objectives, is utterly ridiculous at best and outright evil at worst.

I have spent many nights, awake and afraid, obsessively reading the guidelines for visas and immigration laws. As someone who already has depression and anxiety, this has caused my mental health to often dip dangerously low, to levels I haven’t experienced since prior to being diagnosed and medicated. But it’s a real, tangible fear that many academics, who already experience the burdens of a hostile environment in higher education, always have on their minds alongside every other problem.

Unfortunately, I can’t really offer any answers or advice for this sort of thing. It’s an issue that, alongside precariousness of early academic careers, must be talked about more in the public discourse. And I guess that’s all I can do, really – tell my story, remain public about the challenges I face, and hope that I can at least be one voice that won’t shut up about this problem.

To end this rather unfunny and serious blog post (shocking, I know, but I applaud anyone who has made it this far), I just want to point out a few great resources for more information on precarity, mental health issues, and international academic costs:

  • The Mental Illness Factory – A great piece by Mimi Petrakis on the current mental health epidemic in academia, especially for postgraduates
  • The Precarious Postdoc – Some really valuable research by Sophie A. Jones and Catherine Oakley who have been interviewing and surveying the situations of postdocs in the humanities and social sciences.
  • International and Broke– A fairly new Twitter account run by international academics employed in the U.K. that shares stories of the difficulties that other international academics have experienced in trying to stay and work in the country.

Bones That Look Like Other Bones: A MiniPost About Rabbits and Hares

Note: Is it morbid to look at rabbit and hare skeletons on Easter? Maybe. But more importantly, please remember that caring for rabbits as pets is a commitment – don’t buy them as an Easter Day gift for kids if you’re not committed to caring for them! More information can be found here.

So, moment of truth: how long did it take you to realise that rabbits and hares are two different animals? I’m pretty sure I was hitting double digits in age before that dawned on me…embarrassing? Maybe. But it’s an easy mistake to make: rabbits and hares look extremely alike! And that’s not just limited to their outsides either…today’s mini comparative anatomy post is about the bones of hares and rabbits!

Good rule of thumb with differentiating between hare and rabbit bones is to look at the size of the bones – hares are generally larger than rabbits. This is definitely noticeable just looking at the skulls of a hare (on the left, above) and a rabbit (on the right, above).

Hares also have larger, stronger hind legs, which can also be easily seen when you compare these bones to rabbit bones – in the above photo, are two femora, with the larger and more robust femur belonging to the hare.

Despite being from different species, however, both rabbits and hares do share similar physical traits in their skeletons, with explains why some archaeologists may have some confusion when it comes to differentiating between the two (for example, compare the two tibia bones above – besides the difference in size, they’re rather similar!).

If you’re interested in more archaeological work on hares, check on the Exploring the Easter E.g. project undertaken by the AHRC and the University of Nottingham!

References

Elena, S. (2008) Rabbits and Hares: No More Confusion! http://www.orcca.on.ca/~elena/useful/bunnies.html

Langley, L. (2014) What’s the Difference Between Rabbits and Hares? National Geographic. https://relay.nationalgeographic.com/proxy/distribution/public/amp/news/2014/12/141219-rabbits-hares-animals-science-mating-courtship

The Bone Collector: Building A Personal Reference Collection

Although I guess you can say I’ve been a zooarchaeologist for the past 3 years, I’ve still been a bit behind when it comes to my own personal reference collection. It’s not a necessity for zooarchaeologists, of course, but it’s always good to have – plus, it’ll become important if you go into consulting work.

Some of the bones in my personal collection – yes, those are takeaway containers.

Of course, let me be clear that I’m not hunting animals down for their bones! Many zooarchaeologists with their own collections often come across remains in various ways – out in the wild, from a local farm, or in my case, from the nearest grocery store.

Every zooarchaeologist has their own personal method of processing remains, so I’m sure some would disagree with my tips. But for those who are working with bones for the first time, here’s a few pointers on processing:

  • Getting to Bare Bones

There’s many different ways to get down to the bones, and the method you should choose will depend on what you have left of the animal. Dermestid beetles are a quick and easy way to deflesh animals, but due to upkeep, are best left to professionals and labs who need large quantities of remains. Large, fleshy and furry remains may be buried or kept outside in a protected area to naturally deflesh, but this will take longer than other methods (and you obviously run the risk of certain living animals making off with your bones!). One of the more common methods of defleshing is through maceration – leaving remains in a closed container of water over a period of time until defleshed. If you feel like giving up a slow cooker, you could also slowly simmer the remains until the flesh can easily be removed. Fair Warning: this will smell extremely bad.

  • Getting All the “Bits” Off

The above methods will get most of the flesh off and allow for easier removal of the “squishy bits” inside. However, the body is a frustrating thing and there will still be smaller bits of tissue stuck in crevices and hard-to-reach areas. I recommend using a toothpick or cocktail stick to get “bits” out of the smaller crevices – it will take some time and probably be a little gross, but you want to be sure to get all those bits off before storage.

Additionally, biological washing up liquid such as Biotex can be used to clean and loosen up bits of soft tissue by soaking the bones in a mixture of the washing up liquid and water for a day or two.

  • Degreasing the Bones

This is an easy step to miss! Its important to degrease the bones, otherwise they will get gross…trust me. I forgot to degrease some turkey bones and they ended up growing mould after a few days in storage. Yuck. probably the easiest way to degrease bones is by leaving them in a solution of water + dish washing liquid.

  • Whitening the Bones

As a zooarchaeologist, I don’t really care much about whitening bones (I have never seen a white bone in my life, except for cremated bone fragments). If you do want to whiten your bones, however, most people suggest soaking bones in a mixture of hydrogen peroxide + water.

  • On Boiling and Bleach

When it comes to collecting bones, there are two bad “B” words: boiling and bleach. Both can damage and ruin your bones, so it’s best to substitute simmering for boiling and a hydrogen peroxide/water mixture for bleach.

That said…I am a very bad zooarchaeologist who has often boiled bones from animals that have already been cooked in order to 1) get all of the remaining meat and bits off and 2) make a nice bone broth to use for soups later on (blame my grad student thriftiness – nothing gets wasted!). I will still do a final wash of these bones with water + biological washing up liquid and degrease after boiling. These bones are usable, but they certainly don’t look as nice as my non-boiled bones and definitely have some damage, so I would suggest you don’t boil them. That said, it is possible to salvage the bones if you have already boiled them.

And a final important note: many countries have different laws regarding the collection of remains from certain species – make sure you double check that you can legally collect and keep the bones you have!

Some processed bones in my personal collection from a bantam chicken.

Spooky, Scary, Inaccurate Skeletons

Happy Halloween from Major Buzzkill! To celebrate, I’m going to ruin everyone’s fun and take a look at a recent trend in Halloween decorations: the inaccurate animal skeletons.

Let me preface this by saying I think these decorations are super cute and if I ever get past my ever-growing student debt and get a house, I will most likely buy a whole menagerie of spooky animal skeletons.

However…as cute as these decorations are, the zooarchaeologist in me dies a little inside when I see how…well, unrealistic they are.

Let’s start with the raven. Thanks to Mr. Poe, the raven is probably one of the spookiest birds for the season. But what’s even spookier is…well, whatever that plastic skeleton is (left). In reality (right), raven skeletons are a less more hollow, with lots of space throughout the skeleton and larger long bones. Also, the fake raven’s eye sockets are terrifying…or is it just me?

Unsurprisingly, bats have also become spooky, scary skeletons for Halloween. Now, this was a little unfair in that I’m not entirely sure what kind of bat the decoration was going for (seen on the left, the skull is probably a little closer to a vampire bat), but for the sake of comparison, here’s a fruit bat (right) – I’ll give the fake skeleton credit for the bones of the wings being kinda…sorta…close. But look at those ears!

Speaking of ears…what I’ve noticed is that most of these animal skeleton decorations get these strange, bony ears – probably for the sake of differentiating them, but how weird are they?! As for cats…you know, the fake one (left) almost gets it right…minus the ears and the significantly elongated skull that most domestic cats (right) lack – although that’s probably just to give them a cute nose.

And now…perhaps one of the scariest decorations of all…the dog. Judging by those weird bony ears alone (left), I imagined that it was supposed to be a Rottweiler (right)? I’m actually fascinated by the ears on this one…are they weird, floppy bones? How do they work? If anyone wants to brainstorm with me later, let me know.

Again, this is all in good fun – I understand that its a silly Halloween decoration and that some adjustments are made to make them recognisable to the general public! But seriously…what the hell is this, Party City?

Skeletal Spider
I mean…come on, what the hell?

Have a safe and fun Halloween, everyone!

All skeleton decorations are from Party City and all actual skeletons are replicas from Bone Clones.

On Animal Teeth, or Why I’m Not a Dentist

Since my last post using comparative anatomy was rather popular, I figured I should write a similar post for this week, starting with the most important part of the skeleton for zooarchaeologists (in my opinion) – teeth!

In my experience, teeth are the best skeletal elements to recover. Why? They’re one of the more easily identifiable parts of the skeleton and one of the more variable skeletal elements across different species.

Unfortunately for me, they’re also some of the…well, grossest parts of the skeleton. Nothing will put the fear of root canals and cavities in you like looking at any worn down tooth from a cow or sheep!

Here is a small sampling of teeth from different animals and how you can easily identify them, in very informal and non-technical-sounding ways:

Pig

Pig teeth might be the weirdest looking teeth I encounter regularly (besides my own…and if you’re my dentist reading this, no I will never get braces, I can’t afford them!). The easiest way to ID them is to recognise how similar they look to human teeth…but just slightly off. Basically, I like to say that the molars look like human teeth that have popped a bit like popcorn. Yes, I’m aware of how gross that is – but that’s how I remember them!

Pig Teeth
Yuck – here are the teeth of a domestic pig.

Dog

Dog teeth have a sort of “wave”-like shape to them that makes them a bit distinct. Often, I’ve found that their molars and premolars not as pointed and sharp as a cat’s teeth (see below), but that isn’t always the case, of course. In any case, dog teeth are quite bulky in comparison to cat teeth.

Dog Mandible
A detailed look at a dog mandible (Photo Credit: Melissa Rouge, Colorado State University)

Cat

Cat teeth have a somewhat similar shape to dog teeth, but I’ve found that they are somewhat more pointy than most dog teeth (although again, this may not always be the case). In comparison to dog teeth, cat teeth are also relatively smaller and not as bulky. A larger set of teeth that may look cat-like could indicate you’ve got another member of the Felidade family (i.e; lion, lynx).

Cat teeth
The dainty, pointy teeth of a domestic cat.

Sheep

The easiest way to ID sheep teeth is to check for a “house shingle”-like appearance. I have found that in comparison to animals with similar looking teeth (cows and horses), sheep teeth are also rather thinner. Be careful, though – sheep and deer teeth are remarkably similar in size and appearance!

Sheep Teeth
The maxilla and mandible of a sheep – note that house shingle look!

Cow

As mentioned above, cow teeth are similar in appearance to sheep with a slight “house shingle”-like appearance. However, given the difference in size, cow molars and premolars will be larger and bulkier, usually.

Cow teeth
Compare these cow teeth with the sheep teeth above

Rodents

And finally, some of the smallest teeth you’ll run into: rodents! To be frank, if you find very small teeth, it is most likely from a rodent of some kind. The front incisors may be a bit more difficult to ID if found alone as they are much larger than the other teeth and may be mistaken for a bit of rib bone. These teeth are what create the pattern of gnawing attributed to rodents that looks like long striations or lines on the bone (more on that in a future post!).

Rat teeth
The skull and mandible of a rat – look at that incisor!

If you’re looking for a more in depth comparison of mammal teeth, I would recommend Mammal Bones and Teeth by Simon Hillson (1992). It’s a great guide that I use in my work with some really clear diagrams.

On Fish, the Bane of All Archaeologists’ Lives

Well, not all archaeologists…

Here’s the thing about fish bones: they can, and will most likely, be small and fragile in your assemblages. How small and fragile? So small, if you sneeze you might blow a couple hundred of them off your finds tray. So fragile, you might snap a few with a tweezer.

So not the most fun thing in the world to work with. And I should know. I did my MSc dissertation on analysing thousands of them for three months.

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These are fish scales that I counted – by hand! All in the name of science.

But let’s give credit where credit is due: fish, as annoying as they can be to work with, are vital to understanding the archaeological record. As with other animal bones, fish bones can tell us a lot about the diet of the inhabitants of a given site.

But this is just the tip of the iceberg! Fish, like many other animals, can be utilised in ways beyond food (i.e; fish oil). To further investigate this, we can analyse pottery and other artefacts for traces of oil. By identifying and quantifying the specific bones, we can also determine what inhabitants were most likely doing with the fish – if there are many fish head bones, for example, then the processing of the fish was most likely performed here. No fish head bones and a landlocked site? Maybe the fish were caught and processed elsewhere, and then traded to this settlement! Looking into fish species, we can also see how the fish were caught. Once we identify the bones to species, we can look at their seasonality and where they normally are located within a body of water (coastal? deep sea?), which can tell us a lot about hunting techniques and the technology that must have been employed to catch them. This is also very important if there’s a lack of fishing-related artefacts, but fishing is suspected.

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An example of size differences in fish – these are both the same bone, different sizes!

Fish can be a difficult animal to work with in archaeology. As I mentioned before, fish bones can be very small, which makes identification and handling very difficult! Unlike other animal bones, which often at least have some semblance to human bones that make identifications a bit easier, fish bones often look very alien! They are also very fragile, which means preservation is often not very good.

After working with them for a summer, however, I’ve come to realise how important fish bones are to the archaeological record and how easy it is to take them for granted! So here’s to you, fish bones – you are very annoying to work with at times, but also incredibly helpful and important!

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The cleithrum is a bone unique to fish – and also my favourite! It looks like a wing, doesn’t it?

Want to learn more about fish bones?

The University of Nottingham has an amazing fish bone reference website that has saved my neck a few times during my research.

The North Atlantic Biocultural Organisation (NABO) also has a fish bone manual that may be handy for recording bones.