bluuebunny/crossref_metadata_2025 huggingface dataset:
The Human Facial Skeletons from Sunghir
Authors: Trinkaus Erik , Buzhilova Alexandra P. , Mednikova Maria B. , Dobrovolskaya Maria V.
Published: November 2020

The human (and mammalian) facial skeleton is a complex response to the protection, support, and functional demands of a diversity of neurological and physiological processes that must be structurally integrated, and each places limitations on the others. The processes involve respiration (nasal and oral) and mastication (and deglutition), as well as thermoregulation through respiration. Three of the special senses (vision, smell, and taste) are housed within the facial skeleton, although only the first has a major impact on the shape and structure of the facial skeleton. The challenge in assessing the facial configura­tions of the Sunghir human remains is to partition the facial skeleton in a paleobiologically meaningful manner. Traditionally in paleoanthropology, often given differential paleontological preservation, the facial skeleton is divided initially into its two major skeletal components (cranial and mandibular). The former is then assessed in terms of structures or individual bones, with variable focus on the configurations of the orbital, nasal, and palatal regions. The latter is evaluated as a whole or divided into corporeal and ramal regions. A more meaningful approach, although still one with its limitations, is to assess the face in terms of the three major functional units of the facial anatomy: the orbital, nasal, and masticatory units. Developmentally, in simplified terms, these units are sequential in their priorities. Even though the anterior orbital margins continue to grow anteriorly with facial growth through adolescence, their internal structure is formed early, given that the ocular sphere is an extension of the brain stem and grows in concert with it. The nasal region, both the internal capsule and its skeletal aperture, forms the core of the midface, the roof of the oral cavity, the medial surfaces for the zygomatic regions, and the baseline minimum for the length of the face given that the anterior mammalian dentition cannot be posterior of the nasal aperture. The maxillary dentition with its supporting structures is hafted onto the nasal capsule through the maxillary alveolar process, and the mandible normally grows to provide proper occlusion with the forwardly displaced maxillary dentition.
Endocrine Disruptors in the Environment
Authors: Langston Nancy
Published: November 2020

Since World War II, the production of synthetic chemicals has increased more than 30-fold due to the post-war boom in petrochemical exploration, manufacture, and marketing. The modern chemical industry, now a global enterprise of $2 trillion annually, is central to the world economy, as it generates millions of jobs and consumes vast quantities of energy and raw materials. Today, more than 70,000 different industrial chemicals are synthesized and sold each year (Chandler 2005; McCoy et al. 2006). New technologies and methods for the detection of these synthetic chemicals have drawn increasing attention to the pervasive and persistent presence of hormone-disrupting chemicals in our lives. Hormones—the chemicals that deliver messages throughout the body in order to coordinate physical processes—are deeply sensitive to external interference, and the consequences of such interference are becoming ever more apparent. In July 2005, the Centers for Disease Control (2005) released its Third National Report on Human Exposure to Environmental Chemicals, revealing that industrial chemicals now permeate bodies and ecosystems. Many of these chemicals can interfere with the body’s hormonal signaling system (called the endocrine system), and many persistently resist the metabolic processes that bind and break down natural hormones. More than 358 industrial chemicals and pesticides have been detected in the cord blood of minority American infants (Environmental Working Group 2009). Accumulating data suggests that reproductive problems are also increasing across a broad range of animals, from Great Lakes fish to people. Many researchers suspect that the culprits are environmental exposures to synthetic chemicals that disrupt hormonal signals, particularly in the developing fetus. Endocrine-disrupting chemicals are not rare; they include the most common synthetic chemicals in production, such as many pesticides, plastics, and pharmaceutical drugs. Since World War II, synthetic endocrine-disrupting chemicals have permeated bodies and ecosystems throughout the globe, potentially with profound health and ecological effects (Krimsky 2000). Hormones are chemical signals that regulate communication among cells and organs, thus orchestrating a complex process of fetal development that relies on precise dosage and timing.
The Weathering of Oxides
Authors: Bunker Bruce C. , Casey William H.
Published: November 2020

Earth’s crust is largely composed of oxides, so the biosphere we inhabit is dominated by interactions between oxides, water, and living things. Part Six of this book, on environmental geochemistry, focuses on these interactions and serves as a review of many of the chemical concepts that form the basis for the rest of the book. As such, the final two chapters frequently refer back to previous chapters for more in-depth discussions of specific chemical phenomena. In this chapter, however, we highlight how the diverse environments on the surface of Earth modify the structure, composition, and chemistry of oxide minerals by weathering phenomena. Conversely, in Chapter 18 we explore how oxide minerals and their weathering products modify the structure, composition, and chemistry of the environments they inhabit. These environmental interactions are influenced by life, and are critical to the health and well-being of all living things. Minerals have a natural life cycle on the surface of Earth. Most oxides emerge from Earth’s interior in the form of igneous rocks that form and are stable at the high temperatures and pressures of subsurface environments (see Chapter 18). These minerals usually do not represent phases that are thermodynamically stable in ambient-temperature water. As a result, any pristine rocks exposed to air and water are subject to the physical and chemical degradation processes we call weathering (Fig. 17.1 and Plate 20). Weathering processes facilitated by water convert anhydrous oxides formed at high temperatures into hydrous oxides, oxyhydroxides, hydroxides, and dissolved by-products. It has been estimated that volcanic rocks represent only 8% of the rocky outcrops on Earth’s surface whereas 26% are more coarsely grained plutonic rocks of igneous origin. The remaining 66% of rocky outcrops represent the decomposition products of these igneous parents, including sandstone (16%), claybased rocks such as shale (33%), and simple ionic salts such as limestone (16%) and evaporates (1.3%). The focus of this chapter is on the physical and chemical processes that form and affect these decomposition products under ambient-temperature conditions.
The Impact of Oxides on Environmental Chemistry
Authors: Bunker Bruce C. , Casey William H.
Published: November 2020

The ancient Greek philosopher Empedocles defined our environments using the four basic elements of fire, earth, wind, and water. Although we now know there are at least 118 elements, of which 98 are naturally occurring, these ancient descriptions aptly describe the habitats on Earth that are occupied by oxides and living things. Many oxides that comprise Earth’s surface are born by the fire represented by the massive heat of Earth’s interior as mediated by plate tectonics. This heat produces the igneous rocks found in volcanoes and our major mountain chains. Water weathers these pristine rocks, which are gradually broken down to form earth, which includes the wide diversity of other rock types, soils, and sediments covering the surfaces of our continents and ocean floors. Weathered oxides in the form of dust are blown by wind and enter the atmosphere, where they influence the chemistry of the air we breathe and the rainfall that supports continental life. The chemical transformations of oxides are strongly influenced by all the environmental conditions they encounter in their life cycle (see Chapter 17). Conversely, the interactions between oxides, water, and organisms help define many of the environments that allow life on Earth to thrive. These interactions form the basis for this final chapter of our book. Oxides are present in all our planet’s major environments. In this chapter, we explore each of the environments defined by the ancient Greeks in descending order based on their distance from Earth’s core. The chapter progresses from the stratosphere (air) to continental surfaces (earth) to our oceans (water) and finally to the subsurface environments of subduction zones such as the Marianas Trench (fire). In each section, we highlight reactions involving the two most important classes of oxides in terms of their environmental impact, both of which are weathering products: (1) the clay minerals and (2) the redox-active colloids of iron and manganese oxides. Clay mineral reactions impact colloidal interactions (Chapter 8), ion exchange (Chapter 10), and the sequestration of environmental nutrients and contaminants. Reactions of the redox-active oxidates of iron and manganese are dominant in terms of reversible and often complex electrochemical (Chapter 11) and photochemical (Chapter 13) processes that take place in natural environments.
Denying to the Grave
Authors: Gorman Sara E. , Gorman Jack M.
Published: November 2020

Why do some parents refuse to vaccinate their children? Why do some people keep guns at home, despite scientific evidence of risk to their family members? And why do people use antibiotics for illnesses they cannot possibly alleviate? When it comes to health, many people insist that science is wrong, that the evidence is incomplete, and that unidentified hazards lurk everywhere. In Denying to the Grave, Gorman and Gorman, a father-daughter team, explore the psychology of health science denial. Using several examples of such denial as test cases, they propose six key principles that may lead individuals to reject "accepted" health-related wisdom: the charismatic leader; fear of complexity; confirmation bias and the internet; fear of corporate and government conspiracies; causality and filling the ignorance gap; and the nature of risk prediction. The authors argue that the health sciences are especially vulnerable to our innate resistance to integrate new concepts with pre-existing beliefs. This psychological difficulty of incorporating new information is on the cutting edge of neuroscience research, as scientists continue to identify brain responses to new information that reveal deep-seated, innate discomfort with changing our minds. Denying to the Grave explores risk theory and how people make decisions about what is best for them and their loved ones, in an effort to better understand how people think when faced with significant health decisions. This book points the way to a new and important understanding of how science should be conveyed to the public in order to save lives with existing knowledge and technology.
Cardiovascular System
Authors: Mehta Gautam , Iqbal Bilal
Published: November 2020

1. Always mention presence/absence of signs of endocarditis in any patient with physical signs of valvular heart disease. More than often, they are absent—but this is an important negative finding. 2. Both a low volume and a slow-rising pulse are signs of severe aortic stenosis. If the patient is in atrial fibrillation (AF), then the pulse usually has a variable volume, and some examiners believe that one cannot fully conclusively comment on pulse volume in AF. In patients with aortic stenosis and AF, the pulse exhbits a variable but diminished volume. It would be more appropriate in this setting to say, ‘the pulse is of variable but diminished volume’. 3. A narrow pulse pressure signifies a low cardiac output state, thus a sign of severe aortic stenosis. Other causes of a narrow pulse pressure include severe mitral stenosis or a hypovolaemic state. 4. If venous pressure is elevated, then look for signs of pulmonary hypertension (usually with giant systolic ‘v’ waves of tricuspid regurgitation, parasternal heave and thrill, and a loud pulmonary component to the second heart sound) or pulmonary congestion/cardiac failure (bibasal crepitations). The presence of pulmonary hypertension and pulmonary congestion are markers of severe aortic stenosis. 5. The left ventricle (LV) is hypertrophied, and is minimally displaced with a heaving character. A displaced apex beat indicates a dilated left ventricle, i.e. left ventricular failure. In the late stages of severe aortic stenosis, the left ventricle dilates and heart failure develops. However, the character of the apex beat remains the same. If the apex is displaced, in the absence of signs of severe aortic stenosis, then consider other causes of heart failure. 6. The presystolic impulse is transmission of atrial contraction just before closure of the mitral valve, as a result of forceful atrial contraction against a highly non-compliant and hypertrophied left ventricle. This is often accompanied by a fourth heart sound, and would be a marker of severe aortic stenosis. These signs would not be present in AF. A presystolic impulse is seen in other conditions with marked left ventricular hypertrophy, i.e. hypertensive heart disease or hypertrophic cardiomyopathy (giving a double apical impulse).
Mental health law
Authors: Walsh Andrew , Steeves Simon
Published: November 2020

This book has been written to reflect modern ideas about what constitutes good mental health nursing care, and you will see that values such as partnership working within the framework of a therapeutic relationship have been deliberately stressed. However, the role of the mental health nurse has always required some involvement in what is essentially custodial care. It is necessary for us as mental health nurses to try to balance the demands of these two seemingly paradoxical elements of the role of a mental health nurse. This chapter is intended to introduce you to some aspects of mental health law. We have partly based this upon the law as it currently applies in England and Wales but you will notice that we have also tried to include some material from an international perspective. The history of the profession of mental health nursing is inextricably bound up with the story of the rise and fall of the asylum and with institutionalized models of care. It was only following the Macmillan commission, which was set up to investigate allegations of abuse at Prestwich Hospital in 1924, that the term ‘psychiatric nurse’ (which later evolved to mental health nurse, Department of Health 1994) became a commonly used description (Coppock and Hopton 2000). Prior to this time, people working in institutions for the mentally disordered were more oft en referred to as ‘attendants’ or ‘keepers’ (Nolan 1998), and as these names imply, their roles were mostly custodial or supervisory in nature. Mental health nursing has moved away from this limited model of providing ‘care’ but is still unusual amongst other health care professions in that its members continue to be involved in compulsory detention (even though the main responsibility for this rests with the medical profession; Rogers and Pilgrim 2001). In England and Wales the 1983 Mental Health Act and its 2007 update is currently the legislation directing compulsory treatment of people with mental disorder. In common with legislation in most countries, this Mental Health Act aims to achieve a balance between the rights of the individual mental health patient to be treated and protected and the perceived need to protect others.
Community mental health nursing care of a person with complex needs
Authors: Clarke Victoria , Andrew Walsh
Published: November 2020

In this chapter we will consider the care of a person living in the community with complex needs. In the past, the majority of people who suffered from severe and enduring mental health problems would almost certainly have spent their lives living in institutionalized care. Today, the majority of people with such problems live in the community, and the issue of how well (or not) they are supported is a critical one for those working as part of a community mental health team. In this chapter we introduce ‘Anthony’, a service user who has a long history of mental health problems. Anthony lives alone, and apart from his brother David, he has little contact with other people. Anthony has been referred to mental health services following a long period in which he has been having a depot injection from the nurse at his GP’s surgery. He has a complex range of problems including harassment from local youths, possible physical ill health, and housing problems, as well as a deterioration in his mental health state. In the UK, the move from hospital-based care towards a more community-oriented model is a relatively recent one. Many of the care practices and attitudes you may encounter today have their roots in an institutionalized model. From the 1840s onwards a system of ‘lunatic asylums’ was developed, the intention being that these should provide a humane and morally disciplined environment for those identified as needing care for mental health problems. They were oft en linked to county asylums and workhouses and became associated in the public view with both poverty and ‘madness’. For ordinary people at this time of great industrial and social change, working conditions were harsh and the asylum policy was intended to provide a degree of social control (Rogers and Pilgrim 2001). A popular ditty of the time illustrates some of the prevailing attitudes:… Outside the lunatic asylum, I was there and I was breaking stones, When up popped a lunatic and said to me ‘Good morning Mr Jones, How much a week do you get for doing that?’ ‘Sixteen shillings’ I cried, ‘That’s not enough to keep a wife and six kids, Step inside you silly fella, step inside’. (Anon)…
A Disciplinary (Pre)History
Authors: Harrison Rodney , Schofield John
Published: November 2020

Following the brief definition and discussion of the archaeology of the contemporary past provided in Chapter 1, this chapter will consider the academic context for the development of the archaeology of the contemporary past and its emergence in the years surrounding the Millennium. It then briefly surveys and summarizes the topics which have emerged as areas of focus amongst archaeologists working in the field over the past decade. It will chart the important role of commercial archaeology and developer funding in the emergence of the archaeology of the contemporary past, and look at the role of national heritage agencies and local authorities. Another major issue in this chapter is the ways in which the archaeology of the recent and contemporary past has developed as a means of addressing cultural diversity and recent migrant communities and their heritage, which is inevitably and by definition ‘contemporary’ albeit often with reference to other times and places. The chapter concludes with a consideration of the relationship between historical archaeology and the archaeology of the contemporary past, considering claims for and against seeing it as a discipline in its own right. It is now a decade since the publication of two key books which have been central to the establishment of the archaeology of the contem-porary past as a specific area of study within the English speaking world—Matter, Materiality and Modern Culture edited by Paul Graves-Brown (2000b), and Archaeologies of the Contemporary Past edited by Victor Buchli and Gavin Lucas (2001e). As Buchli (2007: 115) points out however, archaeologists have had a long interest in studying contemporary material culture, dating back to the late nineteenth and early twentieth century and including Pitt-Rivers’s studies of contemporary rifles while working as a military officer, and Kroeber’s (1919) study of changes in contemporary women’s dress lengths. Nonetheless, throughout most of the twentieth century, archaeology has concerned itself almost exclusively with the study of the distant past, accepting a conservative and literal definition of archaeology as something that should focus only on that which is ancient, or ‘archaic’.
How will the Biosphere End?
Authors: Sherratt Thomas N. , Wilkinson David M.
Published: November 2020

This fictional description of the destruction of much of life on Earth comes from a novel by the astronomer Fred Hoyle, co-authored with his son Geoffrey. In the story, the formation of a quasar in the centre of our galaxy leads to the destruction of all life on Earth, except at a few fortuitously sheltered locations. Quasars—first described in 1963—are colossally energetic astronomical objects with extremely high output of radio waves. The novel built on some of Fred Hoyle’s own scientific interests because in the early 1960s, along with the astrophysicist W.A. Fowler, he had predicted that the collapse of a super-massive object could form a distinctive radio source—just before the discovery of the real thing. Although Hoyle and Fowler had the theoretical head start in explaining quasars, being busy with other work they failed to follow up on this advantage, and the current best explanation for these objects is largely due to Donald Lyndon-Bell and Martin Rees. Building on the ideas of Hoyle and Fowler, they argued that a quasar is formed by a rotating super-massive black hole, fed by a disk of in-falling matter, with jets of matter flying away from the system along its axis of rotation. Like the Hoyles’ novel, this chapter focuses on ways the biosphere could end; a fitting question for the close of a book on the ecology and evolution of Earth-based life. However, any answer to a question set in the far future can necessarily be only speculative and, of course, nobody will be around to put the theory to its ultimate test. This raises a philosophical problem namely, has such a question a place in science, or should it be left to science fiction writers? We believe that such questions count as science, not least because it would be good to know the answer (especially if something could be done to postpone the end), but also because in attempting to answer the question, we can extend our understanding of processes that are currently operating. Indeed, J.B.S. Haldane, one of the greatest scientists of the past century, wrote an early essay on much the same topic we consider here.
Introduction
Authors: Issever Cigdem , Peach Ken
Published: November 2020

‘Giving a talk’ is part of everyday life for the working scientist—it is one of the most important ways in which we communicate our research and our ideas to others. The ‘talk’, of course, covers an enormously wide range, from a 10-minute briefing on progress to a handful of colleagues at the regular Monday afternoon group meeting to a keynote address to a major international conference with more than a thousand delegates. However, whatever the occasion, the aim of the talk is the same—to get your message across to your audience clearly and effectively. Members of an audience usually appreciate a good talk. Often, someone will come up afterwards and say something like ‘Thank you very much for that talk; I really enjoyed it and I learnt a lot.’ When that happens, you have achieved at least some of your goals; you have informed, you have educated and you have entertained. Presentational skills are becoming more important in all walks of life. Presenting science, professionally to other scientists and to a wider public, has particular issues that need to be addressed. Our aim in this short book is to equip you, the reader (undergraduate, postgraduate, professional researcher, junior academic . . .) with the basic skills needed to make a good presentation. Our approach is essentially pragmatic and not dogmatic, with emphasis on four essential points: 1. The goal is to communicate the science to the audience. 2. The speaker is responsible for everything that appears, and does not appear, on each slide. 3. The structure and appearance of the presentation, as well as the content, are part of the communication process. 4. There is no standard way of doing things—each slide, and each presentation, is different, and must be tailored to the needs of the audience. Before you read further, we need to make one thing clear—we do not pretend to be able to give you ‘Five Simple Steps to the Perfect Presentation’, and we are somewhat sceptical about any such approach. There are several reasons why we take this stance.
Preparatory Work
Authors: Issever Cigdem , Peach Ken
Published: November 2020

It is impossible to overstate the importance of good preparation for a talk. Even when the subject is very familiar, the preparation time is likely to be at least ten times the length of the talk, and if it is a major presentation, you should be ready to spend even longer. It is only with the third or fourth time that you give the same talk (or effectively the same talk) that the preparation time might take less time than giving the talk. It is important to know your audience. Even if some of the slides are the same, the talk will be very different depending upon whether it is given to your professional colleagues (for example in a colloquium or seminar), to a general audience (for example a lecture to the British Association for the Advancement of Science) or to a group of school pupils. You will need to know how big the audience is likely to be, whether there are any special guests (should you begin ‘Your Majesty’), and if there is any special connection between the audience or institution and the topic of your talk (was your host an author on the key ‘discovery’ paper). What do you expect the audience to know about the subject in advance? In general, the more ‘public’ the audience, the less you should assume they know. However, beware of assuming that the professional audience knows a great deal about your special subject. One useful trick for colloquia in university departments is to say to the organizer or Head of Department something like ‘I have prepared a few introductory slides for the benefit of the graduate students—do you think that I should show them?’ The response is usually something like ‘Ah yes, the graduate students—I think that it might be a good idea to show them!’ As well as knowing who your audience is, it is necessary to know why they have invited you to give the talk, or why they have taken the time and trouble to come along to listen to you. Until you know this, it is difficult to see how you can set about meeting their expectations.
Brixham Cave and the Antiquity of Man (1965)
Authors: Gruber Jacob W.
Published: November 2020

During the past fifteen years, human palaeontology has been revitalized by a series of discoveries whose interpretation has produced a new excitement in the search for man’s ancestry. New paths of human evolution are replacing those that have become rutted through decades of repetition of the same data and the same theories. The current vigour recalls the new spirit of just a century ago when, during the 1850s and early 1860s, the discoveries of the ‘cave men’ revolutionized the concept of man’s past and created for him a previously unbelievable antiquity. Like those discoveries, the finds of our generation, culminating in the evidence from Olduvai Gorge, have led to a re-examination of the bases of human behaviour and its development. Hallowell’s own stimulating examinations of the nature of the human achievement, of human nature itself, have been instrumental in that redefinition of man’s uniqueness that underlies the contemporary search for the human threshold in the evolutionary past. And with the reawakening of studies of human evolution both physically and behaviourally, it is perhaps of some interest to examine those events of an earlier period, in an earlier state of the science, that provided the foundations of both data and concept upon which our present knowledge and interests have been built. During the past fifteen years, human palaeontology has been revitalized by a series of discoveries whose interpretation has produced a new excitement in the search for man’s ancestry. New paths of human evolution are replacing those that have become rutted through decades of repetition of the same data and the same theories. The current vigour recalls the new spirit of just a century ago when, during the 1850s and early 1860s, the discoveries of the ‘cave men’ revolutionized the concept of man’s past and created for him a previously unbelievable antiquity. Like those discoveries, the finds of our generation, culminating in the evidence from Olduvai Gorge, have led to a re-examination of the bases of human behaviour and its development.
Introduction and Polemic (1968)
Authors: Clarke David
Published: November 2020

Every year produces a fresh crop of archaeological excavations, a new harvest of prehistoric artefacts. Every decade produces one or more sites of outstanding importance and impact, which linger on in the literature or sparkle briefly on the glossy pages of ephemeral publications. The archaeologists come and go, new names and sites outshine the old, whilst hundreds of years of collected material overflows and submerges our museum storerooms. At the same time a relentless current of articles and books describe and label the new material so that the intrepid archaeologist, by dint of furious activity, can just maintain his status quo against the constant stream of data. However, the nebulous doubt arises in our minds that a modern empirical discipline ought to be able to aim at more rewarding results than the maintenance of a relative status quo and a steady flow of counterfeit history books. The purpose of this work is to draw attention from specific archaeological areas and periods to the general theory underlying modern archaeology, to refocus this attention on the inconsistencies and inadequacy of general archaeological theory, and to integrate powerful new methods into our analytical armoury. To achieve these ends we need some knowledge of the historical development of modern archaeology, for we cannot fully comprehend contemporary concepts and theories without knowing something of their origins. We must understand how archaeology reached its present curious and transient state, if only to emphasize that the views of our time have no finality, and in order that we might assess the comparative development of prehistoric studies with that of related disciplines. When we have outlined the historical background we can proceed with a deeper understanding to investigate the nature of archaeology and its raw material, and the nature of the subject’s aims, ailments, and potential development. The historical background of archaeology, like that of most modern arts and sciences, takes us back to the Italian Renaissance and the reawakening of philosophical curiosity. This extraordinary florescence developed cumulatively upon the ‘commercial revolution’ that revitalized certain of the Italo-Byzantine maritime cities in the twelfth, thirteenth, and fourteenth centuries of our era.
The Role of Biography in Writing the History of Archaeology (1992)
Authors: Givens Douglas R.
Published: November 2020

The history of any discipline involves the explanation of its past and how the past has influenced its development through time. Its ‘objects are events which have finished happening, and conditions no longer in existence. Only when they are no longer perceptible do they become objects of historical thought’ (Collingwood 1946: 233). Writing the history of archaeology involves the analysis of past events and of the contributions that individual archaeologists have made to its development through time. The roles of individuals in archaeology are best seen in biographical accounts of their labours and in the contributions to the discipline that they have made. In general, historians of archaeological science, who are interested in explaining the roles of the individuals in its development, must focus their attention on three important items. First, the most important item is evidence that something has occurred. If individuals’ contributions have no basis in truth and cannot be justified, then they are of no value to the historian of archaeology. Second, the historical picture of individuals’ lives and work must have defined boundaries in space and time. These provide the area of focus for study and description of individuals’ activities. Third, the efforts of individual practitioners must be couched within the intellectual climate in which they are made. Individuals’ contributions are not made in an intellectual vacuum, apart from collegial or institutional influences. Biography, as a tool for writing the history of archaeology, must embrace all of these requisites. For those engaged in explaining archaeology’s past, historical evidence of event and period provide the foundation upon which we can trace our science’s development. Studying and evaluating past work can be helpful in separating useful and outdated methodologies of the field and laboratory. Moreover, the study of the history of anthropology may give the anthropologist needed ‘distance from their own theoretical and methodological preoccupations’ (Darnell 1974: 2). What we see anthropology today as being is certainly not what the ultimate science of humankind will be in the future.
Gustaf Kossinna (1858–1931) (2001)
Authors: Klejn Leo
Published: November 2020

Kossinna was an outstanding German archaeologist who specialized in prehistoric archaeology and was the founder of the ‘residence or settlement school of archaeology’ (Siedlungsärchaologie). He was a contradictory figure. Although he taught many prominent archaeologists, he very rarely attended excavations. A man of extraordinary erudition, an incomparable connoisseur of a huge range of archaeological material, he was a militant amateur in the discipline. He is considered, with some justification, to be the precursor of Nazi archaeology. However, it was not his conception but rather that of his opponent Carl Schuchhardt that became the official archaeological line in Hitler’s Germany. Kossinna’s method of settlement archaeology was implemented in the Soviet Union after the Second World War. His rather dull hagiographical biography was written in Nazi Germany, but his person and activity are described vividly, sensibly, and critically in Eifurrung in die Vorgeschichte (Introduction to Prehistory) by H.-J. Eggers (1959), and some of the early episodes with Alfred Gotze and Schuchhardt are discussed in detail in that book. Gustaf Kossinna was born in 1858 in Tilsit, in what was formerly East Prussia. His father was a secondary school teacher; his mother descended from the gentry. A small and sickly child, Kossinna absorbed the humanistic and pedantic culture of German teachers, mastering Latin and literature, playing the piano, and working hard. This culture— impregnated with German nationalism, with national enthusiasm, and missionary hopes—was the direct result of the politics of the time, when Prussia was the leader of German unification. Kossinna consecutively attended the universities of Göttingen, Leipzig, Berlin, and Strasbourg. In Berlin he attended lectures in classical and German philology, history, and geography. Lectures by K. Müllenhof on German and Indo-European linguistics (the latter was called Indo-German then) especially fascinated him. The problem of the location of the original Indo-German homeland (Urheimat) was to preoccupy him for his entire life. In 1881 he defended his thesis in Strasbourg on the purely linguistic subject ‘Ancient Upper- Frankian Written Monuments’. He then became a librarian and from 1892 worked in the library of the University of Berlin.
On the International Roots of Prehistory (2002)
Authors: Kaeser Marc-Antoine
Published: November 2020

In recent years, considerable attention has been dedicated to the involvement of archaeology (and most notably prehistory) with nationalism. The probable causes of this recent fashion need not concern us here, but the movement itself is certainly welcome, testifying to the reflection of archaeologists on their own practices and those of their predecessors. For historians, this trend is quite welcome in so far as it contributes to a general renaissance of interest in the past of the discipline. However, a more careful examination of this historiography leads us to some caution about its significance. First, the majority of these historical studies adopt an internalist perspective that, combined with their self-declared reflexiveness, confers on them a rather presentist character. The result belongs to some sort of ‘history of ideas’ that has been embellished with a few sociological insights of varying subtlety. In line with the old sociology of science, social factors are only invoked to explain the ‘errors’ of archaeology. Such errors, therefore, always seem to be accounted for by external and, by definition, pernicious influences. As a consequence our discipline always escapes unscathed: its ‘purity’ is not at stake, simply because it is always ‘society’ and ‘politics’ that abuse it. Moreover, most attention is given to the interpretations of the past, not to archaeological research as such. It is not the historical practice of the discipline that is then under consideration, but rather its thematic scope—which is quite a different matter. However, conceptions of identity based on the past are by no means the exclusive preserve of archaeology. No one has been waiting for the birth of our discipline in order to gloat over the ‘heroic deeds of our glorious ancestors’. As a matter of fact, in terms of nationalism, archaeology has entered quite late into the fray, on a terrain that was by then already demarcated. The wealth of historical case studies suggests that from its origins, archaeology, and more specifically prehistoric archaeology, has been strictly dependent on the emergence of national ideologies. The general impression is clear: were it not for the dynamics of modern nationalism, the argument goes, our discipline would never have emerged.
Between Antiquarians and Archaeologists—Continuities and Ruptures (2002)
Authors: Schnapp Alain
Published: November 2020

The current renewal of interest in the history of archaeology has several causes, but it is primarily the result of the extraordinary extension of the discipline’s objectives and methods. During the last decades, the most far-flung regions of the earth have been subjected to systematic exploration, radiometric dating techniques have continually improved, DNA studies have contributed to the transformations of biological anthropology, and indeed the very process of human evolution has been cast in new light by the changing boundaries between human and animal behaviour. A natural science for many founding fathers of prehistory, a social science for those who emphasize its anthropological dimensions, archaeology has remained for others a historical discipline by virtue of its proximity to ancient languages and inscriptions. At one end of the spectrum, some archaeologists see themselves as specialists in material culture, able to deal with objects, both ancient and modern, as simultaneously technical and semiotic systems. At the other end, there are those who will put their faith only in the detailed approach of singular, particular cultures. To put the matter in extreme terms: it seems as if there is a universalist archaeology standing in opposition to a plethora of incompatible and irreducible vernacular archaeologies. In this context, appeals to the history of archaeology can be understood as recourse to the multiplicity of approaches and traditions characteristic of the discipline. The pioneering work of B. Trigger (1989) and L. Klejn (1973, 1977) has contributed much in this respect to our understanding of the development of archaeological thought. Until then, in effect, the history of archaeology was mainly conceived of as a history of discoveries, without taking much account of the ideas and institutions surrounding them. It is ironic to recall that the first syntheses of archaeology in the nineteenth century were rather conceived as phenomenologies of art (Müller 1830), or as histories of oeuvres and their interpretation (Starck 1880). It appears that the critique of the archaeology of art, during the second half of the nineteenth century, had as one of its side effects the rejection of a history of ideas in favour of one centred on discoveries.
Introduction: the sea is ‘good to think’
Authors: Van de Noort Robert
Published: November 2020

The locale of nearly all archaeological research is land. Whether one studies landscapes, excavates sites such as monuments, cemeteries or settlements, or analyses material culture, the basis for study and debate comes nearly always from terrestrial contexts. Most land-locked archaeologists simply disregard the seas and the oceans, and where land is bordered by a saltwater landscape, this is all too often eagerly adopted as the convenient boundary of the study areas. Others, studying exotic material culture, are more interested in the terrestrial find spots than the maritime journeys of objects that have travelled long distances. Some archaeologists have studied the exploitation of the sea from the land, but rarely stray beyond the functional utilization of the sea and coast for food. A small number of archaeologists work on ships and waterside structures directly related to shipping activities, but this group of maritime archaeologists, with their own conferences and journals, have had very little impact on the thinking of their land-locked colleagues. The principal reason for choosing a sea over a landmass as the geographical centre for this archaeological study is that it provides an alternative space in which to explore the ways that people related with, and connected to, the world around them. As a part of the world that is physically unmodified and unalterable by humanity (at least until very recently), the sea offers an alluring contrast to the terrestrial landscape, with its imprint of human existence visible everywhere. This inability to change and to control the sea has, and had, profound impacts on how people engage with it. Gilles Deleuze developed this concept furthest, most notably in his study of Desert islands (1953), in which the sea is very much seen as a different space, the ‘realm of the unbound, unconstricted, and free’. The sea has since come to be seen as ‘the Deleuzian Ocean’ (Connery 2006: 497). One could say that this study offers a ‘maritime turn’ in terrestrial-dominated archaeology and, by doing so, sets out to investigate aspects of human behaviour that have been, to varying extents, disregarded, overlooked or ignored.
An archaeological theory of the sea
Authors: Van de Noort Robert
Published: November 2020

Despite the wealth of information available on the North Sea, surprisingly few archaeologists have set out to study how people related to and connected to this sea, and other seas, in the past. In fact, we can distinguish four established traditions in archaeological research of the sea, all of which originated in the 20th century. First, many (or most) land-locked archaeologists working on any side of the North Sea have simply disregarded the sea itself, seeing it merely as the natural boundary of their study areas rather than considering its role in any significant way. At best, they are seeing the sea from the land, without genuinely engaging with it (cf. Cooney 2003: 323), although the panorama is slowly changing (e.g. cf. Bradley 1984 with Bradley 2007). Second, there are those archaeologists with an interest in long-distance exchange and exotic objects, who focused initially on the Neolithic and Bronze Age periods but have also been concerned, in more recent decades, with the early medieval period. Although these archaeologists have recognized the seas as conduits of long-distance exchange, they have rarely questioned how the practice of travel across the sea impacted on the social products of such exchange (e.g. Butler 1963, O’Connor 1980, Bradley 1984, Clarke, Cowie, and Foxon 1985, for the Neolithic and early Bronze Age; Hodges 1982, Loveluck and Tys 2006, for the early medieval period). Third, a group of archaeologists have studied the exploitation of the sea, especially for fish and salt, and the occupation and the reclamation of the edges of the sea in the Roman period and afterwards; but these studies have generally not strayed beyond the functional utilization of the sea and coast both for food and for land for food production (e.g. Clark 1961; Van den Broeke 1985; Andersen 1995, 2007; Rippon 2000; Smart 2003; Milner et al. 2004; De Kraker and Borger 2007). And fourth, maritime archaeologists’ focus has been on ships and waterside structures directly relating to shipping activities, but the development of a fuller appreciation of the significance of the sea and seafaring to past societies remains something of a distant aspiration (e.g. Ellmers 1972; McGrail 2003: 1).
Socializing coastal landscapes
Authors: Van de Noort Robert
Published: November 2020

For many decades, archaeologists have studied the ways in which past people have made the landscapes they inhabited their own, through the construction of paths and roads, monuments, settlements, and field systems, leading to what has been termed ‘cultural landscapes’. Such approaches have great validity on land. Archaeologists’ interest in constructed monuments, for example, enables the analysis of social structures and social changes over centuries, and nowhere is this approach more vigorously pursued than for the monument-rich Wessex region in the Neolithic and Bronze Age (e.g. Renfrew 1973; Barrett 1997). In order to achieve such a social analysis of monuments, understanding the sequences of construction, alteration, modification, and sometimes conversion is a long-standing theme in archaeological landscape research (e.g. Bradley 1998). The notion that ‘one type of monument could only be read and understood in relation to the others’ (Tilley 1994: 203) is broadly accepted. Most archaeologists have taken it for granted that man-made features and monuments survive for centuries, and much human activity in the landscape, including the construction of new monuments, is believed to have been guided by the presence of these monuments of the ancestors. A century is a short time in the lifespan of a monument. On the coast, however, few constructed monuments survive for so long. A recent example may help to illustrate the short-lived nature of monuments in coastal settings. On the North Sea coast of Jutland, between the villages of Lønstrop and Nørre Rubjerg, stands the Rubjerg Kunde lighthouse. Inaugurated in 1900, this 23 m-high lighthouse was taken out of commission in 1968, but the outbuildings were converted into a cafeteria and a museum. These were abandoned in 2002 as the sand dunes covered the outhouses, leaving only the upper part of the lighthouse prey to the dunes. Some of the nearby dunes stand higher than the top of the lighthouse. The site now attracts unprecedented numbers of visitors, who come to see the interplay between human creation and natural forces at work. On the coast, the landscape is changing constantly.