The question ‘Can an archaeologist be a public intellectual?’ appears to express both an unfulfilled desire and a secret hope of an entire professional corps to count among them at least a few public intellectuals. It sounds a little as if there is an expectation that at least some archaeologists, through their education and professional experience, somehow, ought to have both the skills and the will to assume the role of public intellectuals, i.e. to contribute to shaping the terms of public debate and to some extent policy. There have, of course, occasionally been archaeologists in politics but they were perhaps not usually public intellectuals. There have, however, only rarely been archaeologists among the public intellectuals of national or indeed international significance. Given the small size of the discipline in society as a whole, is this something to be concerned about? Indeed, can we be certain that the famous public intellectuals in continental Europe do not secretly wish they had become archaeologists instead?
Theoretically, any intellectual might become a public intellectual. Since archaeologists generally do not become public intellectuals, and assuming (in the spirit of this forum) that this is neither satisfactory nor inevitable, one of the questions that is at stake here appears to be what, if anything, our society is losing by its public intellectuals generally not having completed degrees in archaeology. In this way the question about archaeologists as public intellectuals is linked to the question about archaeology's role and function in society and the field of public archaeology.
Before turning to this question I wish to address briefly another pertinent question, namely whether the state of the discipline of archaeology somehow makes it harder, compared with other disciplines, for its professional representatives to address present-day issues and relate to public debates or to recruit the kind of students who would like to address present-day issues and relate to public debates. Might there be public intellectuals in society despite their education as archaeologists?
Why are archaeologists obsessed with the past?
Archaeology is not only a particular academic and scientific practice, but more fundamentally it is a distinctive cultural and social practice in the present (see also Nakamura Reference Nakamura2012). Yet archaeologists tend to be reluctant to engage directly with the present (although there are notable exceptions, e.g. Gould and Schiffer Reference Gould and Schiffer1981; Rogers Reference Rogers and Redman2004; Leone Reference Leone2005; Gould Reference Gould2007). Archaeologists are usually preoccupied with the past rather than with what the past has to tell us in the present. Why is this so? In other words, why are archaeologists often choosing to reduce the significance of archaeology to a concern with the past alone? In my experience, it is not actually very controversial among archaeologists to state that the past only matters in the present, and that archaeological research questions are always motivated by particular interests in the present. Yet archaeologists are notoriously struggling to answer why the past matters in the present and precisely which present-day interests they are addressing (other than the vague interest in learning about the past). We often read fairly meaningless platitudes along the lines of ‘without knowing the past we cannot plan for the future’ (see also Spennemann Reference Spennemann2007). But since when have archaeologists ever been particular good at planning for the future? We also find that large public debates, for example about feminism or about the state of our planet, have unwittingly been affecting the research agendas of archaeologists (Wilk Reference Wilk1985). But it is sometimes unclear precisely what the original contribution is that archaeologists have ever made to these debates in the present. There is clearly room for developing and sharpening archaeological contributions to existing public debates.
Some archaeologists seem to think that it is for others, including public intellectuals with other disciplinary backgrounds, to tease out the societal significance of archaeological research in the present. However, when this actually happens and archaeological research enters public debates about present-day concerns, the archaeologists themselves are easily displeased, as demonstrated, for instance, in the debate about the synthesizing works of Jared Diamond on the global historical development of humankind (Powell Reference Powell2008). One important reason for this situation could be that archaeologists like to focus in their research on their particular data sets and the particular methodologies they use in its analysis. They are often satisfied with relatively narrow research results regarding specific aspects of past realities, whereas outside commentators like Diamond like to gloss over the details in favour of the bigger issues at stake, related to the present day, in their research outcomes. This is not the place for a historical and perhaps sociological analysis of why many archaeologists are so obsessed with their data and methodologies and work so happily with narrowly defined research agendas. One reason may be the enigmatic character of material culture and the lack of advanced theorizing in large parts of the discipline (compare this with the high degree of theorizing in the neighbouring discipline of human geography!). Still today, archaeologists usually specialize in the material culture of finds and features either of a particular region or of a particular period (or both), or alternatively in a particular method of analysis, but they do not tend to specialize in a particular theoretical framework or in a specific present-day issue. There are obviously exceptions to this generalization, and the most notable is the North American tradition in which archaeology is not only a natural part of anthropology at large but also a field in which explicit theorizing has been promoted for half a century – though I am not sure whether that has meant that there are more public intellectuals coming out of North American archaeology.
The overall state of the discipline of archaeology may thus indeed make it harder, compared with other disciplines, for its professional representatives to address present-day issues and relate to public debates or to recruit the kind of students who would like to address present-day issues and relate to public debates. This raises the question of how the discipline of archaeology (its curricula, job descriptions and funding criteria) could be opened up to issues of direct relevance to present-day society. It is not merely a question of additional training so that archaeologists can learn to communicate more successfully what they are already trying to say. I suggest instead that it is largely a question of changing the overall orientation of the discipline from telling stories about the past that may or may not in some vague way relate to present society to realizing and foregrounding the ways in which archaeology, heritage and the past substantially matter in present society (see also Högberg Reference Högberg2007).
Instead of speculating here about the right kind of tactical manoeuvres in the discipline to achieve this, it seems more pertinent to discuss the actual potential for an archaeology orientated towards the present rather than the past. In other words, what might we gain if some of our public intellectuals had completed degrees in archaeology and thus could help realize archaeology's potential in society? This requires addressing archaeology's role and function in society and the field of public archaeology.
Applied archaeology: the potential of archaeology in present society
It is essential for archaeologists to understand better in which ways their subject matter and professional practices are meaningful and valuable to people and how an applied archaeology can provide concrete benefits in contemporary society, beyond amassing ever more objects and knowledge of the past. These issues have recently come to the fore again (e.g. Ronayne Reference Ronayne, Hamilakis and Duke2007; Högberg Reference Högberg2007; Sabloff Reference Sabloff2008; Dawdy Reference Dawdy2009; Stottman 2010; Holtorf Reference Holtorf2012), although they had already been addressed in a number of previous projects. William Rathje's classic Garbage Project is a well-known highlight (Rathje and Murphy Reference Rathje and Murphy1992), as are Clark Erickson's (Reference Erickson1992) experiments with the ancient technique of raised-field agriculture in South America, and the archaeologically informed marking of US nuclear waste disposal sites (Benford Reference Benford1999, part 1). Christian E. Downum and Laurie J. Price's (Reference Downum and Price1999) summary of the state of applied archaeology at the end of the 1990s provides further examples.
Arguably, archaeological objects and practices can assist us in negotiating our social realities and our understanding of what it means to live in the world today. For example, stories about the past allow human beings to make sense not only of the past but also of their own world in the present. These stories may be mystery or adventure stories about archaeologists making discoveries or investigating remains of the past (Holtorf Reference Holtorf2007), or they can be stories about past events and processes that acquire particular meanings in the present. In stories of both varieties, contemporary audiences may feature as characters in plots that give meaning and perspective to their present-day lives; it is such stories that I have referred to elsewhere as ‘meta-stories of archaeology’ (Holtorf Reference Holtorf2010). These meta-stories explore what it means to be human: what do all humans have in common? How does each of us cope with existential issues such as death? Archaeological meta-stories explore also who we are as members of a particular human group. Which community do we belong to and what does this entail? Archaeological meta-stories explore how we engage with the world: which investigations and adventures are we pursuing in our own lives? Finally, archaeological meta-stories explore how we might be living under alternative circumstances: can we improve our lives today by drawing inspiration from the past? Crucially, in all such stories it is not the past as such which attracts interest and gains social significance but rather the broader issues that an engagement with the past raises. What matters most is not so much the scientific accuracy and empirical richness of the story itself but the extent to which the story draws us as characters into the plot of a meta-story and thus touches us. Such meta-stories make archaeology and heritage function as media of social practice (Barrett Reference Barrett1994, 35). They make us reflect upon our actions and motivations, and they influence our behaviour in contemporary society.
Today many archaeologists are concerned about quality issues in contemporary archaeology (e.g. Andersson, Lagerlöf and Skyllberg Reference Andersson, Lagerlöf and Skyllberg2010). I agree with this concern and suggest that the most important quality we are talking about is that archaeology and indeed heritage, as media of social practice, can raise many social, cultural and political issues that are significant to contemporary society. Excavation, for instance, can have additional benefits besides those it has as an academic method to secure evidence that helps academics reconstruct the past. Digging for, and discovering, clues from the past create opportunities for reflection and dialogue both among different participants and between participants and onlookers. Excavation is an exciting and multifaceted approach to investigating what metaphorically lies ‘beneath’. It affects those digging in more ways than merely by providing data. Recovered artefacts can trigger memories and make the past tangible, even bring history to life by evoking past individuals who may have handled the very same piece last before you did. If the artefacts come from the recent past they may refresh memories and facilitate sharing these with others, whether or not all these recollections are actually historically accurate. If they are from a more distant past, artefacts can provoke more general reflections and evoke the kind of meta-stories I mentioned earlier. All this does not only provide beneficial experiences for each individual but can also meet important social and cultural aims by giving pause for thought about the grand questions of the course of cultural evolution and human society and by stimulating contact and conversation across different generations and communities, past and present (Svanberg and Wahlgren Reference Svanberg and Wahlgren2007; Burström Reference Burström2007). As a consequence, archaeological projects can relieve racial, social, gender and other community tensions. Through digging, neighbours who belong to different communities can come together and learn to communicate with each other, whatever they may actually find and find out about the past (Synnestvedt Reference Synnestvedt2008).
Archaeology and cultural heritage in present-day society can mobilize many social groups and benefit their lives in a variety of ways (Holtorf Reference Holtorf2012). Any archaeological and heritage-related project should therefore start with a clear vision of how it addresses and advances such qualities (Goudswaard et al. Reference Goudswaard, Bos, van Roode and Pape2012). An agenda that is exclusively dedicated to gaining academic knowledge, that wants to decide alone what is and is not important for everybody about archaeological heritage, and that does not wish to consider various other interests of living people is all too limited.
The new heritage: putting living people first
Traditional concepts of cultural heritage have focused on cultural monuments, often historic buildings and archaeological sites, taking for granted that remains of the past, as best understood by experts such as archaeologists, are inherently valuable and therefore deserve to be preserved for the benefit of future generations. Heritage conservation practices have therefore focused much on policies and techniques to preserve monuments and artefacts as such, valuing cultural heritage for its intrinsic merits, and making it accessible as symbols of national (or indeed European) pasts. But a fixed and exclusive national heritage (the ‘Story of England’, for example) is no longer plausible for fast-changing, multicultural populations of citizens and other residents, with varying backgrounds and diverse collective identities (Holtorf and Fairclough Reference Holtorf, Fairclough and González-Ruibal2013).
In recent decades, a ‘new heritage’ has been emerging accompanied by a discourse that dwells much less on the objects of heritage, and their assumed intrinsic worth, and much more on a view of heritage as an interaction between people and their world, and between people themselves. This process originated in critical debates during the 1990s concerning established national narratives posing such questions as ‘who owns the past?’ and ‘whose heritage?’ (e.g. Layton Reference Layton1994; Chippindale et al. Reference Chippindale1990). Subsequently, the values of heritage became an area of intense debate. The core values of heritage are increasingly deemed to reside in the cultural meanings and values humans invest in monuments and landscapes, not in their physical substance or in a historical significance best understood by experts (Loulanski Reference Loulanski2006; Fojut Reference Fojut2009; Fairclough Reference Fairclough2009; Smith, Messenger and Soderland Reference Smith, Messenger and Soderland2010; Araoz Reference Araoz2011). It is now understood that heritage, like landscapes and culture at large, must serve wider constituencies of people and indeed society as a whole. In addition to the strictly academic values of the scholars engaged in research, non-academic stakeholders and the way in which archaeology and heritage are meaningful and valuable to them therefore need to be taken seriously throughout heritage management and even by professional archaeologists themselves. Significantly, heritage is accepted as valuable for a range of new reasons, including relaxation and rehabilitation, conflict resolution, economic regeneration, citizenship education, and sustainable development (see Smith Reference Smith, Agnew and Bridgland2006; Samuels Reference Samuels2009).
Acknowledging specifically the appropriation of heritage by communities, the significance of heritage for addressing social processes and conditions, and the growing acceptance of heritage as a public commodity, the president of the International Council on Monuments and Sites (ICOMOS), Gustavo F. Araoz (Reference Araoz2011), has been speaking of a new paradigm for heritage in society. As a consequence, the objectives of heritage management will need to be revisited, so that its primary aim becomes the management of change in the present, not simply the protection of fabric at the ‘best’ sites. A living heritage is a changing heritage. For new heritage, the overall objective is not necessarily preservation but the management of change, for which preservation is just one means. The large scale of current changes in the world seems daunting, but instead of seeing these exclusively as threats to the fabric of heritage, it calls for recognition that heritage is actually a part of those processes, and indeed potentially part of the response to them. The bywords need to be social sustainability (sustainable development as a cultural rather than an environmental measure) and social change expressed by and reflecting cultural heritage. It has long been assumed without much reflection that heritage is to be preserved for the future, whereas in reality it is preserved for the present, as present-day social values and attitudes govern the way in which we define, manage and indeed construct heritage.
The new heritage lends matters of heritage a different importance and influence in contemporary society than previously: rather than heritage being seen as of intrinsic merit with values that ‘society’ has a duty to protect, now heritage serves multiple social actors’ various interests and desires (Araoz Reference Araoz2011; Holtorf Reference Holtorf2012; Holtorf and Fairclough Reference Holtorf, Fairclough and González-Ruibal2013). The new heritage fulfils important functions in society. It enhances the population's health and quality of life; it strengthens global solidarity and reflection about the values we live by; it makes our management of the environment more sustainable; it improves a sense of belonging, social cohesion and democratic participation in diverse and segregated societies; and it boosts regional development through the impact of increasing tourism.
The Faro Convention (Council of Europe 2005) has given these ideas and social values of heritage new force in Europe (Fairclough Reference Fairclough2009). For the Faro Convention (hereafter Faro), people's heritage does not begin at the ticket kiosk of a heritage tourist attraction or at the gates of a historic city centre, but with ordinary things at the threshold of their homes as they step out into their street and into their personal landscapes. This people-centred perspective makes Faro different to most previous heritage conventions of the Council of Europe and from most UNESCO conventions. The Faro view of heritage is concerned with how people interpret – and interact with – the world around them. It is about the process of using (and making) cultural heritage for broader social benefits. Faro has already started to affect academic and political debate, community behaviours and policy. Seeing cultural heritage as a resource (not merely as assets), as Faro does (Article 2), carries the implication that it exists to be utilized, even if in the process it might be eroded or even used up if necessary. The existence of a resource automatically presupposes the existence of users, people who will benefit from its use or merely its existence, individually or in heritage communities, which gives heritage its broader social relevance and value. New heritage tries to put these people at the centre of the discussion. It is not the objects themselves that matter but what those objects mean to people in a myriad of ways. Value is attributed to things for all manner of social, economic and personal reasons; few of these values reside intrinsically in the thing itself.
Conclusions
I asked at the beginning of this contribution whether the state of the discipline of archaeology makes it harder, compared with other disciplines, for its professional representatives to address present-day issues and relate to public debates or to recruit the kind of students who would like to address present-day issues and relate to public debates. I then speculated that this may indeed be the case and argued that the challenge lies in changing this.
In the second half of my ruminations, I discussed at some length the potential of an archaeology and, by extension, of a cultural heritage orientated towards the present rather than the past. I demonstrated that the potential is as varied as it is enormous; it can be subsumed under such terms as ‘applied archaeology’ and ‘new heritage’. Crucially, both are focused on the needs of living people rather than on the remains of dead people and can make many unexpected contributions to present-day society. Knowledge and experience of this potential among those shaping the terms of public debate and policy is what we are potentially losing by our public intellectuals’ generally not having completed degrees in archaeology. It means that this potential will have to be realized in different ways, probably through individual projects, and thus less effectively.
Archaeology and cultural heritage are hardly the only answer to the world's problems and people's needs in the present but they can certainly make contributions. Whether in the future more archaeologists will be adopting the role of public intellectual and thus fulfil their latent potential remains to be seen. More important than a head count of public intellectuals among archaeologists is to create conditions within archaeology at large that facilitate an engagement with present-day issues and public debates and actively support valuable applications of archaeology and cultural heritage in contemporary society.
Acknowledgements
I am grateful to the editorial board for their helpful comments on earlier drafts of this paper. Parts of my argument concerning the new heritage are based on joint work with Graham Fairclough, and I acknowledge his input.
