347Section III

On to the 21st Century

Introduction by Jane E. Buikstra

I. INTRODUCTION

In this ultimate section we begin by considering other influential 20th-century American approaches to the study of human skeletal remains from archaeological contexts that serve to anchor 21st-century “bioarchaeologies.” These include J. Lawrence Angel’s “social biology,” “Frank Saul’s osteobiography,” and the “biocultural” method championed by workers such as Robert Blakely, Alan Goodman, Thomas Leatherman, and Michael Blakey. We note differences in scope and emphasis, arguing that such diversity should be considered a measure of the vitality within this developing field. Our discussion of the “bioarchaeologies” is followed by an introduction to the final chapters of the volume.

348II. THE BIOARCHAEOLOGIES

As Goldstein emphasizes in Chapter 14, “bioarchaeology” carries different meanings, depending upon who is using the term. For Larsen (Chapter 13), bioarchaeology is an interdisciplinary endeavor focused primarily on questions of quality of life, behavior and lifestyle, biological relatedness, and population history. Goldstein also underscores that Larsen’s tremendously productive research program has led many scholars to follow his definition of the term (Armelagos, 2003), although this departs from the original usage (Buikstra, 1977). Buikstra considered many of the same topics, but placed more emphasis on social theories and an equal partnership between archaeology and bioanthropology. In this manner, Buikstra’s bioarchaeology is more “biocultural” both in the sense explicitly stated in the Blakely (1977) volume and in the manner defined by researchers such as Goodman and Leatherman (1998) and Blakey (2001), who emphasize models drawn from political economy and critical theory. As definitional distinctions are nontrivial in interpreting the history of bioarchaeology, this section begins by considering the varied 20th-century labels that American scholars have applied to bioarchaeological approaches for studying past peoples. We also briefly consider recent critiques of bioarchaeology (Armelagos and Van Gerven, 2003; Armelagos, 2003).

While a label was not explicitly defined, Wilton Krogman emphasized the integration of physical anthropology with archaeology in his 1935 article “Life Histories Recorded in Skeletons,” published in the American Anthropologist. Broadly trained in anthropology at the University of Chicago,¹ Krogman’s goal in this publication was to draw attention to the breadth of information available in archaeologically recovered human skeletons, including those of children. In this example, Krogman investigated age-at-death, growth patterning, and health as reviewed through the study of radiographically visible indicators of growth arrest, or “Harris Lines,” in two sets of immature remains attributed to Euro-American pioneers interred near Hartsburg, Missouri. In closing, he reinforced the significance of skeletal material for archaeological inquiry: “No matter how fragmentary the skeleton, how incompletely it is present, each part tells its own story in the recording of the age and health and physical history of the individual” (Krogman, 1935:103). This life history focus appears to have emerged as Krogman’s interest in forensic anthropology was developing (Krogman, 1939, 1962). It is an 349apt precursor to Saul’s more recent osteobiographic approach, which is also influenced by forensic anthropology.

The first explicitly labeled strategy-conjoined archaeological-human osteological study of the past was the social biology promoted by J. Lawrence Angel.² As Cook and Powell note in Chapter 11, Angel’s approach was heavily influenced by Hooton’s population perspective. Drawing heavily upon his dissertation research, Angel’s social biology was defined in an article published in the American Anthropologist (Angel, 1946a). Like Krogman, Angel wished to bring the significance of his approach to a broad anthropological readership.

As with many of Hooton’s students, Angel’s focus was upon testing his mentor’s ideas concerning the vitality of biological heterosis and culture change. Hooton argued that biocultural adaptation was positively associated with “mixing” — both biological and cultural. Angel, knowing that both pathology and heritage could be investigated in past populations, thus set out to study diachronic changes in skeletal series drawn from the eastern Mediterranean to see if those that were more morphologically heterogeneous were also healthier (Ortner and Kelley, 1990).

Angel’s social biology was rooted in several contextual lines of evidence, archaeological, environmental, ecological, and historical. While he indeed focused on population-based approaches in the past, his model also emphasized the individual:

But since cultural tradition is a product of interaction between contrasting individuals rather than an average of the qualities, thoughts, and acts of all the people in a society, individual differences have dynamic importance quantitatively. Hence vital and scarcely seen aspects of human processes in Greek culture growth can be brought out by social biology. (Angel, 1946a:494)

It is tempting to also see this focus on the individual in the works of his mentor Hooton, whose research focus was shifting to constitutional studies, “the anthropology of the individual” (Giles, 1997:499), a subject that Angel also studied early in his career (Angel, 1946a, 1947; Angel and Wagner, 1945).

Social biology was thus theoretically driven, contextually grounded, and population based. As Angel’s career progressed, so did his regional research in the eastern Mediterranean, later extended to North American forensic and archaeological contexts. He studied historic period remains from North America, both African-American and Euro-American (Angel, 1976b; Angel et al., 1987). Among his many contributions were significant advances in clarifying the relationship between the environment and disease, paleodemography, behavior reconstructions, and microevoluion (Buikstra and Hoshower, 1990; Ortner and 350Kelley, 1990). His was thus a broadly based study of past peoples, with many parallels in more recent, contextually sensitive bioarchaeology.

In 1972, another Harvard Ph.D., Frank Saul, published a method he labeled an osteobiographic analysis.³ Like “bioarchaeology” (Buikstra, 1977), this approach is also explicitly problem oriented, driven by questions about paleodemography, ancestry, behavior, and health. Saul explicitly wished to reconstruct the lives of his study series from Atlar de Sacrificios “as individuals and as a population” (Saul, 1972:8). His focus on the Maya world led him to emphasize health-related questions about the Maya past, especially any biological clues concerning the Maya collapse. Questions of origins and migrations were also addressed. Saul then discussed his rationale for creating a new term.

A newly coined term, “osteobiography,” has been used in the title of this report in order to indicate that just such a comprehensive and reconstructive approach was being applied to the study of the recovered skeletons of the ancient inhabitants of Altar de Sacrificios. Rather than talk about measuring (sic) “sexing,” “ageing,” “sickening” (?!), and so on, the term osteobiography has been used to indicate in a single word that this study is concerned with all of the foregoing aspects of skeletal analysis. This study has, in fact, attempted to interpret the Altarians’ life histories as recorded in their bones, hence the creation and use of the term osteobiography.

In so doing, emphasis is being placed upon the meaningful and comprehensive use of skeletal materials in an archaeological context, an approach best exemplified to date by the studies of E. A. Hooton, Pecos Pueblo (1930); W. W. Howells, the early Christian Irish (1941); J. L. Angel, ancient Greece (1946-1959); and J. E. Anderson, Fairty Ossuary (1964). (Saul, 1972:8)

Saul, like Krogman, had forensic experience, which influenced his focus on the individual and life history construction. In fact, Frank and Julie Mather Saul (1989:300) have explicitly stated that they “use much the same approach in our efforts to reconstruct the lives of individuals whose remains are brought to us by the police.” They go on to reinforce a synergism between forensic and archaeological studies of human remains. “One sphere of activity enhances and can learn from the other” (Saul and Saul, 1989:301). Archaeological contexts and historical questions figure heavily in Saul’s osteobiography.

In their more recent work the Sauls (1989) also credited J. Lawrence Angel’s influence upon their research, as well as that of the British physical anthropologist, Calvin Wells (see Chapter 16). They note with appreciation Wells’ research relating bone pathology to the manner in which individuals and groups “actually functioned in life” (Saul and Saul, 1989).

Thus, the Sauls’ osteobiography resembles other contextually sensitive research programs for studying the past. Explicitly problem-oriented, their 351approach recognizes a broad range of possible analytical methods that may be used in individual and population reconstruction. While the individual is emphasized on occasion, especially when encountered in unusual archaeological contexts, e.g., Saul and Saul (1989:291), ultimate goals center primarily on population-based questions about the Maya ranging from the status of women to health.

The 1977a Blakely volume, in which the term bioarchaeology was defined, in fact focused primarily on “biocultural” adaptation. “Humans survive not through cultural adaptation nor through biological adaptation, but through biocultural adaptation” (Blakely, 1977b: 1). Holism was championed, followed by clearly defined volume goals:

(1) to document specific ways in which biological anthropologists can contribute to studies of cultural processes; (2) to illustrate the interrelationships between the biological, cultural, and environmental variables that affect the adaptedness or maladaptedness of prehistoric populations; and (3) to demonstrate the need for cooperation among biological anthropologists, archaeologists, ethnologists, and other expert investigators toward problem-solving in behavioral anthropology. (Blakely, 1977b:3)

This holistic, biocultural approach was emphasized in several contributions, especially those of Blakely, Robbins, Buikstra, and Perzigian. New methods, such as bone chemistry in dietary reconstruction, were also illustrated (Robbins, Buikstra, Gilbert). Blakely (1977c) related demographic patterning to flexible social adaptations at Etowah. Health and agricultural intensification were addressed in three studies. Robbins and Buikstra concluded that certain measures of health status argue for a poorer quality of life among agriculturalists, whereas Perzigian’s perspective, drawn from dental anthropology, concluded the reverse. Thus, holism, interdisciplinary study, complex systems-based approaches, and new methodologies drawn from other disciplines were all visible aspects of the bioculutral approach advocated in this influential volume.

During the 1970s the question of biocultural adaptation with agricultural intensification was also driving another North American research program, guided by George Armelagos at the University of Massachusetts. As noted by Cook and Powell in Chapter 11, the ambitious research agenda, initially centered on remains from the University of Colorado Nubian expeditions, was later extended to the central Illinois River valley. Armelagos’ focus in the Nubian project was skeletal and dental pathology, leading to his 1968 dissertation, which presented a paleoepidemiological model integrating the host, disease, and the environment. The Nubian sample was divided into three successive chronological units: Meroitic, X-Group, and Christian. Armelagos (1968) reported mortality patterns, activity-related stress, and specific conditions, including infectious disease and congenital anomalies. In parallel, David Greene’s (1965) dissertation established genetic continuity for the temporally sequential skeletal samples 352(but see Chapter 10). Armelagos and colleagues explicitly emphasized a population-based perspective, in reaction to older, typological craniology and case approaches to diagnosing disease (Armelagos, 1968; Van Gerven et al., 1973), critiques that would reappear in later work (Armelagos et al., 1982; Armelagos and Van Gerven, 2003; Armelagos, 2003). The Nubian samples served as the basis for numerous other studies, frequently on health-related subjects (for a summary, see Martin et al., 1984). This research is contextualized archaeologically, with a growing trend toward considering political and economic factors that may have affected food availability, nutrition, and health (e.g., Martin et al., 1984).

The biocultural program developed in the Nubian context served to anchor Armelagos’ students’ research on the Dickson Mounds excavated collection, which was excavated and transferred to the University of Massachusetts during the 1970s. Once again, a tripartite temporal division was considered: Late Woodland (hunter–gatherer), Mississippian Acculturated Late Woodland (transitional), and Mississippian (agricultural). Unfortunately, as discussed in Buikstra and Milner (1989), the archaeological cultural assignments were not finalized at the time of the University of Massachusetts studies. Because most of the original osteological data recording forms are not now available, skeletal observations cannot be recast into the newer archaeological model.

As emphasized by Cook and Powell in Chapter 11, the University of Massachusetts program and similar studies served to revitalize paleopathology and bring it new scholarly (Cohen and Armelagos, 1984; Cohen, 1989) and popular (Goodman and Armelagos, 1985) visibility. Again, although restudy according to current archaeological cultural assignments would be desirable, as would the integration of data collected from the now closed in situ Dickson Mounds skeleton display, this research continues to exert considerable influence today.

Political-economic and critical approaches ground the biocultural approach recently advocated by researchers such as Goodman and Leatherman (1998). They argue for an engaged, action-oriented biocultural perspective that supersedes the earlier adaptationist paradigm; also underscoring the importance of considering social relations, especially power relations, when interpreting the remains of past peoples. This biocultural approach is thus contextualized both culturally and socially, holding promise for rendering studies of the past more theoretically sophisticated.

As illustrated in Chapter 15, engaging descendant communities has become crucial in 21st-century bioarchaeology. One example of a biocultural bioarchaeology is that of Michael Blakey and the African Burial Ground Project (Blakey, 1998a,b, 2001). As Goldstein points out (Chapter 14), Blakey’s bioarchaeology of the African diaspora is contextualized archaeologically, historically, and in terms of oral traditions. The present-day African-American community helped 353set a research agenda that ranged from issues of ancestry to reconstructing health, diet, and behavior. As Blakey (2001:414) emphasizes, of “extraordinary interest” to the descendant community were the studies attempting to link the skeletons to specific African societies. However, as Goldstein (Chapter 14) also notes, Blakey’s critique of forensic approaches would seem overdrawn.

Forensic anthropology is also singled out for criticism in two recent reviews of bioarchaeology (Armelagos and Van Gerven, 2003; Armelagos, 2003). These articles argue for population-based research that is theoretically sophisticated, endorsing the type of health assessments Armelagos and his students have developed in Africa and in North America. Forensic anthropology is devalued for being descriptive, inaccurate, and racist. Similarly, disease diagnosis and studies of disease distributions are criticized, as are historical approaches generally. Finally, ancient DNA studies are characterized as not having produced important new knowledge, and all studies of inherited features appear to be glossed as typological and racist. Several chapters in this volume suggest that such arguments are somewhat extreme. As emphasized by Konigsberg (Chapter 10) and Stojanowski and Buikstra (2004), biological distance studies today are not typological and are increasingly grounded in population genetics. Cook and Powell (Chapter 11) argue that a balance should be struck between the identification of specific diseases, tracing their histories, and the study of general health in the past. In that epidemics of infectious diseases, for example, have been potent forces in human history, their identity and distribution are not trivial issues. Race is a contentious issue, both within the discipline of anthropology and outside. Most forensic anthropologists practicing today consider race a social construct, and ancestry determinations are a very small part of what forensic anthropologists do. If knowledge of bones can assist in medico-legal contexts, then this application of skeletal biological knowledge would seem socially quite significant. While Armelagos and Van Gerven (2003) argue that we have learned very little from the study of mtDNA, it is just these studies that the descendant communities prioritized in their heritage quest for those interred at the African Burial Ground. All investigations of heritage are not by their very nature racist. Establishing genetic relationships is also an important issue within the context of repatriation initiatives (see Chapter 15). Chapter 13 also provides compelling arguments for the significance of new analytical techniques, including ancient DNA.

III. BIOARCHAEOLOGY IN THE 21ST CENTURY

Chapter 13 first defines the questions and topics that data from archaeological skeletons can usefully address, focusing on (1) quality of life, (2) behavior and lifestyle, and (3) biological relatedness (biodistance) and population history. 354Second, important recent technological and methodological advances, especially those adapted from other disciplines, are reviewed.

In assessing quality of life, Larsen emphasizes dietary reconstruction and nutritional inference, disease, and growth. He highlights the significance of new methodologies drawn from bone chemistry for inferring diet. For example, stable carbon isotope analyses have virtually revolutionized our perspective on ancient agriculture in the Americas. In assessing disease patterning, Larsen advocates the paleoepidemiological approach pioneered by Hooton and Angel (see also Chapter 11). Recognizing the importance of disease diagnosis and the ambiguity of gross skeletal lesion morphology, he underscores the significance of microscopic and ancient pathogen DNA approaches. Developmental insults are also advocated as measures of health and nutritional stress, including linear growth of long bones and dental defects that are grossly and microscopically accessible (see also Chapter 11). In discussing behavioral reconstructions, Larsen emphasizes biomechanical approaches, for the postcranial skeleton, and dental wear, including microwear. For reconstructing population histories, Larsen reviews recent studies of ancient DNA for tracing ancestry and stable isotope ratios (strontium) for tracing patterns of mobility. In closing, Larsen reaffirms the importance of bioarchaeologists’ engagement in multidisciplinary archaeological research from the beginning in order to advance our knowledge of quality of life, behavior, and population histories. He also considers the contributions that bioarchaeologists can make to studies of gender and political complexity.

Chapter 14 addresses the degree to which bioarchaeology has achieved its goals, as stated in the Blakely (1977) symposium volume. Her methodology involved examining eight journals, six archaeological and two anthropological, over the years 1995-2000 for published evidence of the collaborative integration of archaeology and biological anthropology yearned for by the contributors to the 1977 volume. She also integrates recent reviews from the physical anthropological literature (Larsen, 1997, 2002), emphasizing that, as an archaeologist, her perspective may differ from others represented in this volume.

Goldstein concludes that despite the hopeful projections of productive collaborations voiced in 1977, physical anthropology and archaeology have proceeded along very different trajectories over the intervening half-century. Larsen’s influential definition of bioarchaeology emphasizes multidisciplinary skeletal research anchored by new technologies for studying quality of life, behavior, and population histories. It thus develops a skeletal biology of the past and does not closely link the bodies of people to their archaeological contexts.

Goldstein also argues that as the study of archaeological skeletons has become more laboratory oriented, it may have developed a sense of false precision and failed to note recent developments in bone biology. She contends that treating the archaeological record simplistically and ignoring recent developments in archaeological theories and methods is a dangerous path for bioarchaeology.

355Post-1977 advances in the archaeology of mortuary sites are then summarized. Goldstein cites gender studies, landscape archaeology, and research centered on the individual as venues important to a contemporary bioarchaeology. The impact of NAGPRA upon potential collaborations between physical anthropologists and archaeologists is also insightfully considered. Three articles that utilized isotopic approaches to inferring diet, residence, and relationships between weaning behavior and fertility are singled out as being unusually integrative of archaeological context and human osteological data. She closes her chapter by considering ways in which bioarchaeology today would benefit from closer integration with archaeology and again underscores the significance of a contextualized bioarchaeology. She draws parallels between this approach and biocultural studies of the past, as defined in the work of Blakey (2001).

Buikstra (Chapter 15) treats a topic of central importance in framing bioarchaeology of the 21st century. She traces repatriation initiatives and legislation in the United States and Canada. The two North American political contexts provide an intriguing contrast in that the United States has federal legislation mandating reburial whereas Canada does not; it appears that relations between bioarchaeologists and First Nations are generally better in Canada than in the United States.

Buikstra considers the impact of NAGPRA and related legislation upon bioarchaeological research and the professions of archaeology and bioanthropology. The Kennewick decision is discussed in the context of NAGPRA, with emphasis on the tensions between scientific–archaeological/humanistic–traditional approaches to heritage issues. The role of the Society for American Archaeology in framing the discourse about repatriation is considered, including the society’s position on the repatriation of culturally unaffiliated materials.

Case studies that underscore the tensions inherent in repatriation are reported, as are productive, positive collaborations from both the United States and Canada. Repatriation issues have undoubtedly complicated bioarchaeology, as practiced during the late 20th century, and will continue to do so. Problem-oriented excavations are no longer feasible unless sites are endangered. Deaccessioned collections cannot be restudied to verify earlier observations or to apply new methods. However, conversations and partnerships between Native American people and bioarchaeologists do hold promise for enriching the interpretations of past histories and making contemporary studies more meaningful to descendant communities in a socially responsible manner. There are indeed both challenges and opportunities inherent in repatriation initiatives. It is hoped that as mutual respect develops in the course of mutual ventures, the bioarchaeology of the 21st century will emerge as an even more robust approach to the peopling of the past.

In Chapter 16, the closing chapter of this volume, Roberts compares and contrasts the development of bioarchaeology in North America and Britain. 356In so doing, she underscores the fact that in general, Britain has lagged behind the United States in the development of a richly contextualized bioarchaeology.

Roberts begins her discussion with a consideration of various English terms that have been applied to the study of human and other remains from archaeological sites, including “bioarchaeology” and “osteoarchaeology.” As noted in the preface to this volume, “osteoarchaeology” was initially coined by Vilhelm Møller-Christensen (1973, 1978) to denote a careful examination and excavation of burial places conducted by someone familiar with human remains and the manner in which they are studied. This observational emphasis has been extended by French anthropologists in a technique known as “l’ anthropologie de terrain” (field anthropology⁴), a complement to funerary archaeology, paleodemography, and paleopathology (Leroi-Gourhan et al., 1962; Masset, 1972; Duday, 1978; Duday and Masset, 1987). Developed to facilitate the interpretation of complex Neolithic sepultures, the method specifies precise field observations and related analyses that facilitate reconstructing extended burial programs, circumstances of death, and life histories. The dynamic process of cadaver decomposition and decay is emphasized in relationship to depositional contexts. While the approach has been brought to the attention of American forensic scientists as a taphonomic method (Roksandic, 2002), it is seldom referenced by archaeologists or bioarchaeologists working in North America or Britain.⁵

Following her brief review of the history of physical anthropology in Europe, Roberts focuses upon 19th- and early 20th-century British “racial” studies as a background for the manner in which scholars undertook the study of skeletal remains. The development of the profession of physical anthropology is considered, along with the history of archaeological and anatomical museum collections. She notes the absence of large collections of complete skeletons from known individuals in Britain, contrasting with the situation in North America and in Portugal.

Turning to the second half of the 20th century, Roberts first summarized seminal contributions by European scholars such as the medical doctor Møller-Christensen (1903-1988), who pioneered in both excavation methods and in skeletal observations, especially of infectious diseases such as leprosy. In Britain, another physician, Calvin Wells (1908-1978), is considered to have been among the pioneers in combining archaeological and biological evidence in reconstructing ancient lives. Beginning to publish in the mid-1950s, Wells proved a remarkable prolific writer and thus his influence extended well beyond Britain’s boundaries. His approach was clearly “bioarchaeological,” as the term is used in 357North America. Contributions of other medical doctors, Keith Manchester, Cecil Hackett, and Eric Hudson to bioarchaeological investigations are also cited.

Another productive British scholar, Don Brothwell (b 1933), is perhaps best known for his handbook Digging Up Bones. Trained in geology and zoology, as well as anthropology and archaeology, Brothwell’s approach to the archaeological record is eclectic, with his contributions including primary research on human skeletal and mummified tissues, including hair. His current work on zoonoses focuses on human animal transmission in an evolutionary framework, holding promise for yet another series of innovative contributions.

Turning to recent decades, Roberts describes the variety of contributions being made by the current contributing generation of bioarchaeologists and the training/research programs from which they have emerged. Britain has assumed a prominent role in advancing biomolecular approaches for the study of heritage, health, and residence histories. The recent development of a set of standards for data recording should also advance British bioarchaeology, which has yet to meet the challenge of developing a systematic national database concerning collections locations and composition — an initiative developed in the United States following NAGPRA’s mandates. Standards for field data recording are variable in both countries.

In closing, Roberts considers factors that may affect future bioarchaeological research in Britain. Limiting attributes include repatriation, damage to existing collections, and funding for other than biomolecular studies. Enhancing variables include scholarly interest in the history of disease, the presence of large skeletal collections, historical records beginning in the medieval period, and a strong tradition of rigorous, scientific study of the past.358