bluuebunny/crossref_metadata_2025 huggingface dataset:
Paediatrics
Authors: Etheridge Luci
Published: November 2020

Children are not merely small adults. To be a good paediatrician requires as much knowledge about health as about disease. The normal patterns of growth and development can be a mystery to many, and paediatricians are often called upon to help to interpret these for confused parents. There is a unique need to be aware of the range of congenital disorders that may present before, at, or shortly after birth. Younger children cannot tell us their symptoms. Therefore, paediatricians have to learn to pick up on non-verbal clues and often subtle signs, when the answer may lie in something unexpected and far removed from the traditional history and examination format. At the other end of the spectrum, adolescents have their own range of health issues and are traditionally an under- represented and often forgotten group. In this chapter, we aim to cover many of the key presentations and issues in children of all ages, from neonates to teenagers. Even in this modern age, children are susceptible to infection. Respiratory and gastrointestinal infections are the commonest presentations in both general practice and paediatric hospital practice. Fortunately, most of these infections are self-limiting, but serious infections do occur and must be recognized. However, the leading cause of death in all children over 1 year of age is accidents. Recognizing risk factors for accidental and non-accidental harm is a major responsibility for all those working with children. The questions in this chapter will test not only the common areas that present to paediatricians, but also relevant issues such as knowledge of disease factors, ethics, and risk management in relation to children and their families. However, the best way to learn about children is to get out there and meet them—play with them, talk to their parents and carers, and see them when they are ill and well. You will learn the most this way and be able to apply that knowledge and experience to answer questions such as these.
Resuscitation and transfer
Authors: Whymark Caroline , Junkin Ross , Ramsey Judith
Published: November 2020

To pass the written part of the FRCA, candidates must achieve the pass mark for the SAQs and the MCQ/ SBA papers combined. Therefore, doing particularly well in one paper, or one area, can compensate for another in which you have scored poorly. The 30 SBA questions is an area that candidates commonly find difficult. There is a feeling these questions are unjust and that it is impossible to second guess the examiners and choose the correct option. They feel further punished that four marks are awarded for each correct answer or lost for an incorrect choice. While this reflects the fact that four answers have been eliminated in the course of choosing the best answer, candidates often state it is an unfair ‘all or nothing’ way to mark these questions. They can commonly narrow the choice down to a final two options but report finding it difficult to then choose between them. They receive no credit having successfully eliminated three of the options and cite the SBA element as being the reason they failed the examination. These comments however are not supported by examination success data published by the RCoA. The pass rate for this paper was consistent at around 70% before and after the introduction of the SBA component in September 2011. We believe the concepts behind the SBAs are misunderstood by many. When asked to write a SBA question, candidates inevitably produce a five- part A to E multiple choice question but with only one correct answer. The finer points of SBA questions are lost among quickly written revision aids containing what the authors believe to be examination standard questions, when often they are not. Further, because SBAs are a relatively new element to the FRCA there is a limited bank of questions, and a highly restricted number in the public domain. Both these factors make practice of these questions difficult. Part of exam success is practice of the technique and question type in advance. We believe the practice of SBAs is an area to which candidates do not give enough attention.
Ruins of the South
Authors: González-Ruibal Alfredo
Published: November 2020

The ruins of modernity are inevitably the ruins of the North. Actual or imagined ruined cities (the real Detroit or a post-apocalyptic London) are always Euro-American industrial or post-industrial metropolises (Vergara 1999; Woodward 2002; Edensor 2005; Jorgensen and Keenan 2012). These ruins are receiving growing attention by researchers, who often see them as metaphors of a diverse kind—including of our cultural anxieties and fears, of colonialism, capitalism, of the end of master narratives (Hell and Schönle 2010; Dillon 2011; Stoler 2013). They are also scrutinized by cultural heritage managers and politicians who try to transform them into spaces of memory, of leisure and consumption, or both. The post-industrial ruins of the South have received much less attention in recent debates on ruination, decay, recovery, and gentrification, although there are a few significant exceptions, most notably the work of Gordillo (2009, 2014) in Argentina and also Rodríguez Torrent et al. (2011, 2012) and Vilches (et al. 2008, 2011) in Chile. This is due to several reasons: one of them is the fact that southern urbanization and industrialization are usually perceived as a recent process. They are too young to have generated ruins: after all, none of the diverse southern ‘miracles’ of which economists speak (South-east Asian, Brazilian, African, and so on) dates from before the 1960s. It is well known that when companies do outsourcing, it is the so-called emerging economies that benefit from it: new factories for the South, new ruins for the North. Another reason is that the long-term process of modernity is still very much associated with Euro-American history. The rest of the globe is seen as having a later, incomplete, or surrogate modernity, as post-colonial historians have abundantly criticized (Chakrabarty 2000). In addition, the cultural and political conditions of the North have enabled the emergence of popular engagements with ruins, such as urban exploring or video games, that have made their processes of metropolitan ruination more conspicuous at a global level (Garrett 2013; Pétursdóttir and Olsen 2014: 4).
Dynamic macro I: Infinite horizon models
Authors: Fehr Hans , Kindermann Fabian
Published: November 2020

In this chapter we apply the principles of dynamic programming to some standard macroeconomic models. For now we stay in the world of infinite horizon models, which are characterized by the fact that they are populated by one or several households with an infinite planning horizon, similar to the previous chapter. There are several justifications for such an assumption. Beneath simplicity, altruism is probably the most famous argument in favour of infinite horizon models. Assume that in a period t there is one generation that dies with certainty after this period.The utility of this generation from its own consumption is u(·). Yet, each generation is altruistic towards its descendants. Consequently, total utility of the generation is Ut = u(·) + βUt+1 where β ≤ 1 can be interpreted as the degree of altruism. All generations together then form a dynasty.
Commitment to Professionalism
Authors: Metcalfe David , Dev Harveer
Published: November 2020

The Royal College of Physicians (RCP) has defined professionalism as a ‘set of values, behaviours, and relationships that underpins the trust the public has in doctors’. Dame Janet Smith has described professionalism as ‘a basket of qualities that enables us to trust our advisors’. The RCP has imagined some of the qualities that might be included within Dame Janet’s basket as ‘integrity, compassion, altruism, continuous improvement, excellence, and working in partnership’. The General Medical Council (GMC) has taken this further in the ‘Professionalism in action’ section of Good Medical Practice (2013). According to the GMC, good doctors ‘make the care of their patients their first concern: they are competent, keep their knowledge and skills up to date, establish and maintain good relationships with patients and colleagues, are honest and trustworthy, and act with integrity and within the law. They also work in partnership with patients and respect their rights to privacy and dignity. They treat each patient as an individual. They do their best to make sure all patients receive good care and treatment that will support them to live as well as possible, whatever their illness or disability’. The Medical Protection Society (MPS) has, however, been clear that ‘professionalism’ is not the same as ‘perfectionism’. Although professionalism encompasses the ambition to provide high- quality care, mistakes are an inevitable part of working as a doctor. For the MPS, ‘true professionalism comes into play when mistakes are made . . . knowing what to do when things go wrong and how to react appropriately can make all the difference in ensuring high standards of patient care are maintained and a speedy resolution is reached’. Situational judgement questions within this section will test your probity by exploring responses to scenarios that might require you to challenge unacceptable behaviour, maintain confidentiality, and, as always, prioritize patient safety. You need to demonstrate a commitment to achieving your various clinical responsibilities, as well as a desire for continued learning and a commitment to helping the development of others. These scenarios test your honesty towards patients and colleagues, and a willingness to admit mistakes.
Eponymous Syndromes
Authors: Sinharay Ricky , Fink Doug
Published: November 2020

Medicine has long been riddled with diseases and tests named after things, places, and people. Whilst this can be fun to learn and remember for pub quiz answers, this can become increasingly difficult and does not lend itself well to medical education assessment theory which would class recall of these names as rote learning. In this chapter, which looks at such syndromes, we have aimed to cover some of these eponymous syndromes but using their generic fea­tures, rather than focusing on their specific historical names.
Geriatric Medicine
Authors: Furmedge Dan
Published: November 2020

Geriatric medicine is the largest ‘medical’ specialty in the United Kingdom, with the number of geriatricians expanding at a huge rate with significant demand. Pragmatic specialists in frailty and complex co- morbidity, the work of geriatricians reaches across geriatric medicine wards, the acute medical unit, emergency departments and acute frailty units, surgical wards, and tertiary medical wards and in the community from inner city London to rural Scotland. They can be found in residential and nursing care homes, rehabilitation teams, and hospital at home teams. Frailty, falls, delirium, dementia, continence, immobility, rehabilitation, polypharmacy, nutrition, end- of- life care, advanced care planning, com­munity medicine, and legal and ethical medicine are all core features of a geriatrician’s day. In this chapter, the questions give a taste of some of these concepts and will also demonstrate how geriatric medicine crosses almost every specialty.
Quantum Schmuntum: Lights, Camera, Action!
Authors: Vedral Vlatko
Published: November 2020

Spring 2005, whilst sitting at my desk in the physics department at Leeds University, marking yet more exam papers, I was interrupted by a phone call. Interruptions were not such a surprise at the time, a few weeks previously I had published an article on quantum theory in the popular science magazine, New Scientist, and had since been inundated with all sorts of calls from the public. Most callers were very enthusiastic, clearly demonstrating a healthy appetite for more information on this fascinating topic, albeit occasionally one or two either hadn’t read the article, or perhaps had read into it a little too much. Comments ranging from ‘Can quantum mechanics help prevent my hair loss?’ to someone telling me that they had met their twin brother in a parallel Universe, were par for the course, and I was getting a couple of such questions each day. At Oxford we used to have a board for the most creative questions, especially the ones that clearly demonstrated the person had grasped some of the principles very well, but had then taken them to an extreme, and often, unbeknown to them, had violated several other physical laws on the way. Such questions served to remind us of the responsibility we had in communicating science – to make it clear and approachable but yet to be pragmatic. As a colleague of mine often said – sometimes working with a little physics can be more dangerous than working with none at all. ‘Hello Professor Vedral, my name is Jon Spooner, I’m a theatre director and I am putting together a play on quantum theory’, said the voice as I picked up the phone. ‘I am weaving elements of quantum theory into the play and we want you as a consultant to verify whether we are interpreting it accurately’. Totally stunned for at least a good couple of seconds, I asked myself, ‘This guy is doing what?’ Had I misheard? A play on quantum theory? Anyway it occurred to me that there might be an appetite for something like this, given how successful the production of Copenhagen, a play by Michael Freyn, had been a few years back.
Narratives for the fourth millennium
Authors: Ray Keith , Thomas Julian
Published: November 2020

The story of the Neolithic period in Britain as we so far understand it has been compiled from myriad individual archaeological encounters with the traces of human activity from the centuries concerned in different places within the landscape. These traces include the remains of partly earth-fast timber structures which often consist of recognizable features representing where the timbers had been pulled out of the ground, or had rotted in situ, or had been burned; areas of burning of ground-surfaces where hearth-fires had been laid; spreads of decayed materials that were formerly rubbish dumps or ‘middens’; large holes (usually referred to as ‘pits’) dug and backfilled with various deposits including whole or broken artefacts thrown or placed within them; and ditches that had been infilled or had silted up, and sometimes re-dug and redefined. The different episodes of construction and deposition that led to the formation of these traces are differentiated by those investigating them through the identification of thousands of isolable ‘events’. Some of these events were almost momentary (the digging of a pit, the removal of a post), while others (such as the gradual silting of a ditch) took place over an extended period. Archaeologists describe the isolable actions, events, and deposits resulting from such occupation of the land as ‘contexts’. Some materials retrieved from some of these contexts have been carefully selected by the archaeologists during their investigations to be datable using a variety of scientific dating techniques, and they provide individual site chronologies linked closely to the stratigraphic sequences involved. Repeated observed associations of different kinds of artefact with reliably dated contexts and site sequences allow comparative chronologies to be painstakingly constructed, and it is from this process that the possibility of a chronologically sound historical narrative for the Neolithic is gradually being built up. In these chapters entitled ‘narratives’, however, we are not only talking about the sketching out of a historical sequence, extremely important though it is. We are speaking also, if to a limited extent, about the teasing out of multiplicities of story from the material evidence.
Narratives for the third millennium
Authors: Ray Keith , Thomas Julian
Published: November 2020

By the later part of the third millennium BCE, Britain had become connected to mainland Europe by the so-called ‘Beaker network’. This appears to have involved the circulation of people, materials, and cultural innovations over trans-continental distances. Most tellingly, it included direct evidence for cross-Channel contact and the movement of individual people into Britain who had lived much or most of their lives in continental Europe. However, the evidence for such contact during the previous few centuries is very much sparser. If, as it seems reasonable to infer, developed passage tombs were ultimately an Atlantic European phenomenon that was adopted in idiosyncratic ways in Ireland, Scotland, and finally Scandinavia during the course of the fourth millennium, routine interactions with the Continent are less easy to identify thereafter. In marked contrast with this, the period after 3000 BCE saw the emergence of a range of new interregional connections within Britain and Ireland. These have been less consistently recognized, as they conflict with the traditional narrative in which populations in central and south-west Asia engaged in periodic wholesale migration northward and westward. Such a narrative of external stimulus to change is less secure in this period because we now realize that the social and cultural changes that overtook Britain in the earlier third millennium originated predominantly in the northern and western parts of these islands. Some of the most significant innovations of the third millennium throughout Britain were ultimately generated in the Orkney archipelago and its immediate sphere of contact. While aspects of the unique developments that took place in the Orkneys can be attributed to connections with Ireland and the Western Isles, these contributed to the emergence of a distinctive social formation that was at once highly competitive and spectacularly creative. By the start of the third millennium, Orkney had become a crucible of social and cultural change, but developments in the islands arguably began to diverge from those on the mainland soon after the Neolithic began, perhaps during the thirty-seventh century BCE.
The AI Delusion
Authors: Smith Gary
Published: November 2020

We live in an incredible period in history. The Computer Revolution may be even more life-changing than the Industrial Revolution. We can do things with computers that could never be done before, and computers can do things for us that could never be done before. But our love of computers should not cloud our thinking about their limitations. We are told that computers are smarter than humans and that data mining can identify previously unknown truths, or make discoveries that will revolutionize our lives. Our lives may well be changed, but not necessarily for the better. Computers are very good at discovering patterns, but are useless in judging whether the unearthed patterns are sensible because computers do not think the way humans think. We fear that super-intelligent machines will decide to protect themselves by enslaving or eliminating humans. But the real danger is not that computers are smarter than us, but that we think computers are smarter than us and, so, trust computers to make important decisions for us. The AI Delusion explains why we should not be intimidated into thinking that computers are infallible, that data-mining is knowledge discovery, and that black boxes should be trusted.
Intelligent or obedient?
Authors: Smith Gary
Published: November 2020

Jeopardy! is a popular game show that, in various incarnations, has been on television for more than 50 years. The show is a test of general knowledge with the twist that the clues are answers and the contestants respond with questions that fit the answers. For example, the clue, “16th President of the United States,” would be answered correctly with “Who is Abraham Lincoln?” There are three contestants, and the first person to push his or her button is given the first chance to answer the question orally (with the exception of the Final Jeopardy clue, when all three contestants are given 30 seconds to write down their answers). In many ways, the show is ideally suited for computers because computers can store and retrieve vast amounts of information without error. (At a teen Jeopardy tournament, a boy lost the championship because he wrote “Who Is Annie Frank?” instead of “Who is Anne Frank.”A computer would not make such an error.) On the other hand, the clues are not always straightforward, and sometimes obscure. One clue was “Sink it and you’ve scratched.” It is difficult for a computer that is nothing more than an encyclopedia of facts to come up with the correct answer: “What is the cue ball?” Another challenging clue was, “When translated, the full name of this major league baseball team gets you a double redundancy.” (Answer: “What is the Los Angeles Angels?”) In 2005 a team of 15 IBM engineers set out to design a computer that could compete with the best Jeopardy players. They named it Watson, after IBM’s first CEO, Thomas J. Watson, who expanded IBM from 1,300 employees and less than $5 million in revenue in 1914 to 72,500 employees and $900 million in revenue when he died in 1956. The Watson program stored the equivalent of 200 million pages of information and could process the equivalent of a million books per second. Beyond its massive memory and processing speed, Watson can understand natural spoken language and use synthesized speech to communicate. Unlike search engines that provide a list of relevant documents or web sites, Watson was programmed to find specific answers to clues. Watson used hundreds of software programs to identify the keywords and phrases in a clue, match these to keywords and phrases in its massive data base, and then formulate possible responses.
We’re watching You
Authors: Smith Gary
Published: November 2020

Humans often anthropomorphize by assuming that animals, trees, trains, and other non-human objects have human traits. In children’s stories and fairy tales, for example, pigs build houses that wolves blow down and foxes talk to gingerbread men. Think about these stories for a minute. The three little pigs have human characteristics reflected in the houses they build of straw, sticks, or bricks. The wolf uses various ruses to try to lure the pigs out of the brick house, but they outwit him and then put a cauldron of boiling water in the fireplace when they realize that the wolf is climbing up the roof in order to come down the chimney. The gingerbread man is baked by a childless woman, but then runs away from the woman, her husband, and others, taunting his pursuers by shouting, “Run, run as fast as you can! You can’t catch me. I’m the Gingerbread Man!” In some versions, a fox tricks the gingerbread man into riding on his head in order to cross a river and then eats him. In the version read to me when I was a child, a wily bobcat tries to lure the gingerbread man into his house for dinner, but birds in a nearby tree warn the gingerbread man that he is the dinner. The gingerbread man flees while the bobcat snarls, “Botheration!” The gingerbread man runs back home, where he is welcomed by his family and promises never to run away again. These are enduring fairy tales because we are so willing, indeed eager, to assume that animals (and even cookies) have human emotions, ideas, and motives. In the same way, we assume that computers have emotions, ideas, and motives. They don’t. Nonetheless, we are fascinated and terrified by apocalyptic science-fiction scenarios in which robots have become smarter than us—so smart that they decide they must eliminate the one thing that might disable them: humans. The success of movies such as Terminator and Matrix has convinced many that this is our future and it will be here soon. Even luminaries such as Stephen Hawking and Elon Musk have warned of robotic rebellions.
Free speech, politics, and government
Authors: Baecker Ronald M.
Published: November 2020

Politics and government are undergoing dramatic changes through the advent of new technology. The early developers of community networks (mentioned in Section 1.2) had hopeful visions of information technology (IT)-facilitating participatory democracy. Yet the most memorable visions have been literary dystopias, where surveillance is omnipresent and governments have absolute control. We shall begin by highlighting some of these important writings. We shall then consider a current and present topic—the cultural and legal frameworks governing free speech and other forms of expression on the internet. We review several kinds of ‘undesirable’ speech that test our commitment to free speech—messages that are viewed as obscene, hateful, seditious, or encouraging of terrorism. Next, we examine methods governments worldwide use to censor web content and prevent digital transmission of messages of which they disapprove, as well as a similar role for social media firms in what is now known as content moderation. We shall also mention one new form of rampant and very harmful internet speech— fake news. Fake news becomes especially troubling when it is released into and retransmitted widely into filter bubbles that select these messages and echo chambers that focus and sensationalize such points of view to the exclusion of other contradictory ideas. The prevalence and dangers of fake news became obvious during post facto analyses of the 2016 US presidential campaign. The internet and social media enable greater civic participation, which is usually called e-democracy or civic tech. Most such uses of social media are relatively benign, as in online deliberations about the desired size of a bond issue, or internet lobbying to get libraries to stay open longer during the summer. However, for more significant issues, such as violations of fundamental human rights, or unpopular political decisions that incite public unrest, social media communications may facilitate political protest that can lead to political change. IT also plays a role in elections—social media can be used to mobilize the electorate and build enthusiasm for a candidate. Correspondingly, surveys and big data are used to target potential voters during political campaigns and to tailor specific messages to key voters.
Conclusion
Authors: van den Dool Huug
Published: November 2020

In this book we have reviewed empirical methods in short-term climate prediction. We devoted a whole chapter to the design of two of these methods, Empirical Wave Propagation (EWP, Chapter 3) and Constructed Analogue (CA Chapter 7). Other methods of empirical prediction were listed in Chapter 8, with brief descriptions and examples and references. One chapter is devoted to EOFs, as such a diagnostic topic, but widely used in both prediction and diagnostics, and thoroughly debated for a few decades. Two brief chapters, written in support of the subsequent chapter, Teleconnections (Chapter 4), should make the discussion on EOFs more interesting, and the topic of effective degrees of freedom (Chapter 6) is indispensable when one wants to understand why and when natural analogues would work (or not), or how an analogue is constructed, or how any method using truncation works. Most chapters can be read largely in isolation, but connections can be made of course between chapters. EWP is claimed to be useful, if not essential, in understanding teleconnections. Dispersion experiments, featuring day-by-day time-scales, link the CA and EWP methods. Examples of El Nino boreal winter behavior can be found in (a) the examples of EOFs on global SST and 500 mb streamfunction (Chapter 5), (b) specification of surface weather from 500 mb streamfunction (Chapter 7), and (c) the ENSO correlation and compositing approach (Chapter 8). The noble pursuit of knowledge may have been as important in the choice of some material as any immediate prediction application. Chapter 9 is different, less research oriented, and more an eyewitness description of what goes on in the making of a seasonal prediction. This eyewitness account style spills over into Chapter 8 here and there, because in order to understand why certain methods have survived to this day some practicalities have to be understood. The closeness to real-time prediction throughout the book creates a sense of application. However, the application in this book does not go beyond the making of the forecast itself; we completely shied away from such topics as a cost/benefit analysis or decision-making process by, for example, a climate sensitive potato farmer or reservoir operator.
Reading Antiquity, Mapping History
Authors: Hauser Kitty
Published: November 2020

When, in 1978, the poet, critic, and editor Geoffrey Grigson (1905–85) was asked by the Times Literary Supplement which journals had influenced him when young, he answered that one magazine, Antiquity, founded and edited then by O. G. S. Crawford, still seems to me to have been the flower of all periodicals familiar to me in my day. In that treasury, so decently laid out (and so well printed . . . ), prehistory, and history, rather as it was understood by Marc Bloch in France, and later by W. G. Hoskins, and imagination, received a stimulus such as no periodical administered to literature. Antiquity was begun in 1927 by the field archaeologist O. G. S. Crawford (1886–1957) as a quarterly review aiming to disseminate the findings of a new generation of archaeologists in an accessible style and a visually attractive format. For Grigson, this journal most fitted the bill, in the late 1920s and 1930s, of what he calls the ‘periodical of Utopia’ that Tolstoy had called for in 1858. Tolstoy wanted a journal proclaiming the ‘independence and eternity of art’, where art would be saved from the politics that was engulfing nineteenth-century Russia, threatening to destroy or defile art. Such a journal was Grigson’s ideal, too. Drawing an implicit parallel between Tolstoy’s Moscow of 1858 and politicized interwar Britain, he decried the endemic admixture of politics with art in the periodical press at this time, when every ‘shrewd editor’ had an ‘axe to grind’. One of his favourites, the New Republic, while excellent, ‘came under the curse . . . which ordains that most literary journalism in our language must be for ever mixed with politics’. T. S. Eliot’s journal The Criterion was tainted by the same ‘curse’: ‘covert politics’, claimed Grigson, ‘slightly defiled its superiority’. Only in Antiquity, it seems, could Grigson discern art—‘independent and eternal’—without the defiling politics or the dullness that accompanied it in other journals and weeklies. Only in a publication that did not claim to deal with art could he find what he was looking for, as he viewed this archaeological journal through the lens of poetry. Antiquity, he wrote, made ‘all the past with firework colours burn’—a line he borrowed from Wyndham Lewis’s poem about Sir Thomas Browne’s antiquarian tract Urne Buriall.
The pig in medieval iconography
Authors: Phillips Sarah
Published: November 2020

Representations of the pig can be found in a wide variety of visual material worldwide, and throughout time. The term ‘pig’ is used here as a general term to cover all domestic and wild forms of Sus scrofa (where relevant and possible precise distinction between these forms will be specified). The images that exist, vary in terms of the form or shape of the pig, the representation of its characteristic features according to sex (male–boar vs female–sow), form (domestic or wild), age (adult pig or piglet), or physical characteristics (i.e. snout, tusks, tail, trotters, hair and hide coloration, razorback, and bristles). A visual appreciation of different living forms can be found in works such as Burnie (2001) or Buczacki (2002). This chapter is concerned with the creation and use of visual images of the pig. It offers a selection of materials dating in range from the medieval to the early modern period and will cite selected examples to represent continuity or change in the use of images where appropriate. The materials providing representations of the pig include (but are not exclusive to) illuminated manuscripts, prints and posters, engravings and drawings on either parchment or paper, canvas paintings, stained and painted glass, wood carvings, embroidery and textiles, stonework, moulded or cast metal, ceramic wares, and figurines. Exclusive porcine works discussing this iconography include those by Foster (1977), Ryba (1983), Brochier (1988), Bonera (1991), and Lawson (1995). In addition to depictions of pigs, functional and decorative and artistic uses were also found for the inedible body parts of real pigs such as the tusks appearing in visual cultural materials reflecting the precious value of the animal by some people. The main approach of this paper is thematic in order to emphasize how visual representations of the pig have had associations with filth, shame, lust, fantasy, care and consumption, inspiration, and human identity. Many assumptions have been made about the relative importance of the sources of inspiration drawn upon for the creation of particular images or motifs in the surviving media, and the availability of these to their creators (for a discussion on the practice of artistic transmission during the Middle Ages, see Scheller 1995).
Energy…beyond oil: a global perspective
Authors: Armstrong Fraser , Blundell Katherine
Published: November 2020

Coal and oil, which are the buried products of several hundred million years of solar energy, photosynthesis, and geological pressure, have fuelled our industries and transport systems since the Industrial Revolution, a period of only 200 years. Although opinions differ as to when the peak in oil production will occur (perhaps in 2010, perhaps in 2030), it is hard to avoid the conclusion that oil is being consumed about one million times faster than it was made and, further than this, the twenty-first century, will be the century when societies have to learn to live without gas and oil (coal will outlast oil and gas by a few hundred years). But, there is an entirely separate motivation for living without fossil fuel: obtaining energy from oil, coal, and gas will continue to put carbon dioxide (CO2) into the atmosphere at levels which it is widely acknowledged are elevating the average temperature on the planet. Carbon dioxide is a good heat absorber and acts like a blanket: this is because CO2 molecules resonate strongly with infrared radiation causing it to be trapped as heat instead of all being transmitted into space. Global warming is already causing the polar ice caps to melt and it is inevitable that there will be higher sea levels resulting in less land for an increasing population, along with changes in climate. These changes are not easy to predict and may be difficult to reverse. Either of these two motivations, be it the depletion of oil reserves or the need to arrest global warming caused by the combustion of fossil fuels, mandates new thinking from all those with concern for the future. How will future generations view our policies and our decision making today? Unless we change course now, these people will be left in a world where energy is a scarce resource and the mobility we have taken for granted in the late twentieth and early twenty-first century will be long gone. Our generation—rightly—would be blamed for knowingly squandering the planet’s resources.
Household Food Production—What Next?
Authors: Pallot Judith , Nefedova Tat'yana
Published: November 2020

The previous chapters have shown how diverse are the patterns of household food production in Russia; most rural households grow a mixture of vegetables, roots, and fruit and might keep some poultry and small and large livestock for personal consumption, but many also have developed one or more branches geared to the market. Specialization is a feature of the post-Soviet ‘personal subsidiary economy’ and it has been associated with a deepening geographical division of labour in the sector. In this concluding chapter, we examine the extent to which the degree of market engagement of households maps onto the patterns of specialization and diversification we have described in the previous pages. The aim is to shed some light on the questions posed at the beginning of this book about the ‘nature’ of household production and its place in Russia’s evolving agri-food economy. It seems to us self-evident that the degree and character of household production’s subsumption to the market is the key to understanding the different directions in which it might be taken in the future. There is still little consensus among theorists of the peasantry about capitalism’s impact on small producers, but few would disagree that the market is the dominant transformative process whether, as in the case of households located in the suburbs of the major cities, it is to bind them ever more tightly into the market nexus or, as in the northern peripheries, its very absence reproduces their marginality. In the villages in which we conducted our surveys we encountered households positioned at different points along a ‘market’ spectrum. At one end there were those that were producing food exclusively to meet their own and their family’s consumption needs. These households sell surpluses, if they have them, in order to earn a money income to buy the staples they cannot produce themselves, but this is not their principal motivation. The noted Russian rural sociologist Vinogradskii (1999), among others, has identified the existence of spontaneous non-monetary networks cooperation developing among rural households aimed at achieving food security, but even in the most remote places we visited, we found that primitive markets did exist.
Chronologies in Conflict
Authors: Rowley-Conwy Peter
Published: November 2020

This book is about a radically new scientific concept, how it was developed and promulgated, and finally came to be generally accepted. The concept in question is the archaeological Three Age System, the fundamental division of the prehistoric past into successive Ages of Stone, Bronze, and Iron. This is the basic chronology that now underpins the archaeology of most of the Old World. To be sure, we may question (for example) whether the transition from the Neolithic to the Early Bronze Age really marks as great a social and cultural change as that from Middle to Late Bronze Age; or we may debate whether the Mesolithic should really be so named, or should be referred to as the Epi-Palaeolithic. But the fact that we can even argue in such terms demonstrates the all-pervasive strength of the fundamental Stone–Bronze–Iron classification. Terms like ‘Mesolithic’ or ‘Late Bronze Age’ may create their own problems, and the precise definitions of such periods and the nature of the transitions between them are often keenly contested; but the debates they engender operate within the parameters of the Three Age System as a whole, and thus act to reinforce it. No-one, after all, doubts that the Stone Age preceded the Bronze Age. But it was not always so. There is an archaeology even of the Three Age System itself. It was conceived in Denmark and southern Sweden; it was initially published there in the mid-1830s, and was fully accepted and operating in those countries in under a decade. Its acceptance in southern Scandinavia was remarkably rapid, and no serious assault was made there upon its fundamentals. The same cannot be said for its reception in the British Isles, however. Its acceptance and uptake here was variable and patchy, and some leading British and Irish scholars shunned it for forty years. This is something which is almost always overlooked in histories of archaeology, which instead place emphasis on the people who adopted the Three Age System. This is entirely understandable, but it has led to the people who rejected the Three Age System being almost entirely written out of the history of the archaeology of the British Isles.
Coasting Britannia: Roman Trade and Traffic Around the Shores of Britain
Authors: Fulford Michael
Published: November 2020

A major theme of Barry’s research has been the investigation of the relations between the Roman world and western Europe, particularly Britain. While, as we shall see below, his Weldwork has contributed very substantially to this theme, there have been several major synthetic treatments (e.g. Cunlifie 1988; 2001a). He has also sailed vicariously the seaways of the Atlantic and the British Isles through reconstructing the voyage to northern waters of Pytheas, the Greek ‘discoverer of Britain’ in the fourth century bc (Cunlifie 2001b). This contribution explores a little further maritime activity around Britain’s shores in the Roman period, particularly in the period of the first century BC to third century ad, and the ideas expressed by Barry in his Facing the Ocean (Cunlifie 2001a: 417–21; 443–6). Between the last quarter of the first century BC and the mid-third century ad Britain was in receipt of tens of, if not hundreds of thousands, conceivably millions of consumer goods and containers of wine, olive oil, etc. from the Roman world, mostly from the provinces of Gaul and Spain, but also Germany and from across the Mediterranean (Fulford 1991). Universally among military sites of this period, and almost ubiquitous among sites in ‘lowland’ Britain, are finds of Roman coins, originating mostly from the mints of Rome and Lyons, samian pottery from Gaul and, among amphorae, sherds of the olive-oil-carrying Dressel 20s from the Guadalqivir valley of Baetica. How did this material reach Britain? Considerable evidence has been amassed for the location of Roman ports and harbours around the coast of Britain, either indirectly on the basis of, for example, extrapolating the line of a Roman road heading towards an unidentified or lost site on the coast, or directly on the basis of the remains of harbour works such as quays and piling, but were these all of equal importance throughout the period in question (e.g. Brigham 1990; Cleere 1978; Fryer 1973; Milne 1985)? Many categories of material have distributions across Britain, though the incidence of finds is usually greater in the ‘lowland’ southeast, rather than in Wales or in the northern counties south of Hadrian’s Wall, or between the Hadrianic and Antonine frontiers.
Sculpture as Landscape: Archaeology and the Englishness of Henry Moore
Authors: Renfrew Colin
Published: November 2020

The interplay in English thought between archaeology and landscape has been a long-standing one. Even before the notion of ‘landscape’ was well defined as an artistic genre, antiquaries like John Leland became topographers, and topographers such as William Camden became antiquaries. Stuart Piggott was one of the twentieth century archaeologists acutely aware of these links, well analysed in his Ruins in a Landscape (1976), and Barry Cunliffe has certainly been another. Like Piggott, he is a graphic artist of distinction himself, often preferring to draw his own plans and sections for his final excavation reports. As an able illustrator he has taken special pleasure in the work of another notable Wessex countryman, topographer and archaeologist, Heywood Sumner. Born in Hampshire, Sumner (1853–1940) became first an artist and then, on his retirement, a Weld archaeologist. The publication by Cunliffe (1985) of Heywood Sumner’s Wessex reflects again this enduring sympathy between the Weld archaeologist and the artist sensitive to the earthworks and the rolling contours of the English countryside. Sumner was not a great artist, nor did his work add significantly to the development of British archaeology, yet he captured a quality in his archaeological illustrations and in his vision of the earthworks of Wessex which looks back to those earlier antiquaries, Stukeley and Colt Hoare, and forward to such consummate artists of the English landscape as Paul Nash and Henry Moore. He was also a close friend of another significant Weld archaeologist, noted lover of the landscape and pioneer of landscape archaeology, O. G. S. Crawford. Barry Cunliffe, an internationally celebrated figure who has initiated several significant Weld projects overseas, has likewise undertaken some of his most distinguished work in Wessex, from Fishbourne to Hengistbury Head, and in the landscape of Wessex, most notably at Danebury. His treatment of Sumner’s work, for instance in his chapter ‘Landscape with people’, shows great sympathy with the human scale of the English landscape, a quality which is also an important feature in the work of Henry Moore. To regard a sculptor as a landscape artist as I have done in this paper, would, until recently, have seemed rather paradoxical. For it is true that the ostensible subject of most of Moore’s sculptures was the human figure.
Evidence of Absence? The Rarity of Gold in Durotrigan Iron Age Coinage
Authors: Jersey Philip De
Published: November 2020

Generations of archaeologists have done well to remember the truism that ‘absence of evidence is not evidence of absence’. About fifteen years ago I presented Barry Cunliffe with what I regarded as some rather distressingly blank distribution maps of various Iron Age artefacts in northwest France. Far from agreeing with my pessimistic view of the possibility of saying anything very meaningful about such paltry evidence, Barry reminded me of the ‘absence of evidence’ maxim, and encouraged me to think more deeply about the apparent gaps, and to question my assumptions about the usefulness or otherwise of the data—in short, to look more positively at the opportunities for investigating such seemingly negative evidence. It is perhaps a little ironic, then, that in this tribute to Barry’s unrivalled influence on Iron Age studies, I would like to present an example where I am nearly sure that the absence of evidence does indicate evidence of absence. My subject is the lack of a significant gold coinage among the Durotriges of Dorset, in contrast to every other major coin-using polity in late Iron Age Britain. My aim is to demonstrate that this lack of gold coinage is a genuine phenomenon, and not the result of partial or inadequate evidence; and to suggest some reasons why this situation may have arisen. Before focusing more narrowly on Dorset in the mid-first century BC, we need to consider the background to the importation and the production of gold coinage in Britain. Although there were probably very occasional imports of coinage from the time of the earliest ‘Celtic’ imitations, perhaps in the mid-third century BC, the first significant inflows of gold coin did not occur until at least the mid-second century BC. These began with the ‘large flan’ stater and quarter stater (Gallo-Belgic A), probably struck in central and western Belgic Gaul, in the territories later identified with the Ambiani and the Bellovaci. Their distribution in Britain is focused on the Thames estuary, with the majority of findspots in Essex and Kent (Sills 2003: 136, 153). At roughly the same time, the ‘defaced die’ staters and quarter staters (Gallo-Belgic B) were also imported into Britain, perhaps from the territory of the Nervii (Sills 2003: 185–6).