âTheoryâ is a very difficult word to define. Indeed, I shall return to this topic in the final chapter, since different theoretical views define âtheoryâ in different ways. Different definitions cannot therefore be fully explored without prior explanation of those views.
There is disagreement over whether many concepts can be considered âtheoreticalâ or whether they are merely neutral techniques or methods outside the purview of theory. Stratigraphy, excavation and recording techniques, and the use of statistical methods are, for example, clearly all instances of putting facts in a certain order. However, they might be considered âtheoreticalâ by some but âjust practicalâ or âsimply techniquesâ by others. Theory and method are often confused by archaeologists. In this more restricted sense of theory, if theory covers the âwhyâ questions, method or methodology covers the âhowâ questions. So theory covers why we selected this site to dig, method how we dig it. However, theory and method are obviously closely related, and many archaeologists including myself regard such a straightforward division as too simple.
To give an example of the relationship between theory and method, we might consider different methods of investigating social inequality in the archaeological record. Thus the method archaeologists might use would be to compare graves ârichlyâ endowed with lots of grave goods with poorer, unadorned graves. It is evident in this exercise that certain ideas or theories about the nature of social inequality are being assumed (that social status will be reflected in treatment of the body at death, that material goods are unequally distributed through society and that this has a direct relationship to social inequality, and so on). These ideas are themselves theoretical in nature.
Perhaps theory and method are one and the same thing and cannot be separated; perhaps they have to be separated if archaeology is to be a rigorous discipline that is capable of testing its theories against its data. This is a debate we shall return to in Chapter 4.
I'm sorry to butt in, but all this discussion of theory and method clearly demonstrates just how sterile and boring theory really is. You're already lost in definitions and semantics, you haven't mentioned a single fact about the past, and I'm beginning to wish I hadn't bothered to start reading this and had turned my attention to that new book about the Hopewell culture instead. Theory is irrelevant to the practice of archaeology; we can just use our common sense.
Ah, Roger, the eternal empiricist. (Roger Beefy is an undergraduate student at Northern University, England, though students like Roger can be found in any archaeological institution. Roger fell in love with archaeology when he was a child, scrambling up and down the ruins of local castles, churches, burial mounds, and other sites. Roger spent a year after school before coming to Northern University digging and working in museums. Roger loves handling archaeological material, and is happiest when drawing a section or talking about seriation techniques over a beer. Now, in his second year at Northern University, Roger has found himself in the middle of a compulsory âtheory course.â Full of twaddle about middleârange theory, hermeneutics, and postcoloniality, it seems to have nothing to do with the subject he loves.)
So, you want to know why theory is ârelevantâ to archaeological practice. Perhaps you will bear with me while I discuss four possible reasons.
1 Archaeologists need to justify what we do
The audience for archaeological work (other archaeologists, people in other disciplines, the âgeneral publicâ or âcommunityâ however defined) needs to have a clear idea from archaeologists of why our research is important, why it is worth paying for, why archaeologists are worth listening to. There are a hundred possible answers to this challenge of justification, for example:
- The past is intrinsically important, and we need to find out about it for its own sake.
- We need to know where we came from to know where we're going next. Knowledge of the past leads to better judgments about the future.
- Only archaeology has the time depth of many thousands of years needed to generate comparative observations about longâterm culture processes.
- Archaeology is one medium of cultural revolution that will emancipate ordinary people from repressive ideologies and validate social justice agendas.
The chances are that you disagree with at least one of these statements, and agree with at least one other. That doesn't change the fact that each statement is a theoretical proposition that needs justifying, arguing through, and debating before it can be accepted or rejected. None of the statements given above is obvious, selfâevident, or commonsensical when examined closely. Indeed, very little in the world is obvious or selfâevident when examined closely, though our political leaders would have us think otherwise.
2 Archaeologists need to evaluate one interpretation of the past against another, to decide which is the stronger
Archaeology relies in part for its intellectual credibility on being able to distinguish âgoodâ from âbadâ interpretations of the past. Were the people who lived on this site hunterâgatherers, or were they aliens from the planet Zog? Which is the stronger interpretation?
It's impossible to decide what is a strong archaeological interpretation on the basis of âcommon senseâ alone. Common sense might suggest, for example, that we accept the explanation that covers the greatest number of facts. There may be thousands of sherds of pottery dating from the first millennium BCE on a site, all factual in their own way, but one other fact â a treeâring date of 750 CE, for example â may suggest that they might be all âresidualâ or left over from an earlier period. In practice, every day of our working lives as archaeologists, we decide on which order to put our facts in, what degree of importance to place on different pieces of evidence. When we do this, we use theoretical criteria to decide which facts are important and which are not worth bothering with.
A good example of the inadequacy of common sense in deciding what is a strong or weak archaeological explanation is that of ley lines. Ley lines were âdiscoveredâ by Alfred Watkins in the 1920s, when he noticed that many ancient archaeological sites in Britain could be linked up by straight lines. The idea that ancient sites lay on straight lines could be âprovedâ easily by taking a map upon which such ancient monuments were marked and drawing such lines through them. Watkins suggested these lines represented prehistoric trackways. Nonsense, said the professional archaeological community. It was common sense that prehistoric peoples living thousands of years before literacy or formal geometry were far too primitive to lay out such geometrically sophisticated lines. Watkins had intended his book as a genuine contribution to archaeology, but his research, sincerely carried out, was laughed out of court and consigned to the ranks of lunatic âfringe archaeologyâ Other writers took his thesis up in succeeding decades but extended it by suggesting that the lines were of sacred significance or mystical power.
Now it is quite clear today that prehistoric peoples would have been quite capable of laying out such lines. The original, commonsensical criteria used by some archaeologists for rejecting Watkins's thesis were completely invalid.
Ley lines do not exist. This was shown by Tom Williamson and Liz Bellamy in Ley Lines in Question, which analyzed such lines statistically and showed that the density of archaeological sites in the British landscape is so great that a line drawn through virtually anywhere will âclipâ a number of sites. It took Williamson and Bellamy a book's worth of effort and statistical sophistication to prove this, however.
The moral of the debate over ley lines is that what is considered to constitute a strong or a weak explanation is not simply a matter of âcommon sense.â I would argue that ...