Hostname: page-component-745bb68f8f-5r2nc Total loading time: 0 Render date: 2025-02-11T07:11:52.822Z Has data issue: false hasContentIssue false

Scales of relevance and the importance of ambiguity

Published online by Cambridge University Press:  12 July 2021

Karina Croucher*
Affiliation:
School of Archaeological & Forensic Sciences, University of Bradford, UK (✉ k.croucher@bradford.ac.uk)
Rights & Permissions [Opens in a new window]

Abstract

Type
Debate
Copyright
Copyright © The Author(s), 2021. Published by Cambridge University Press on behalf of Antiquity Publications Ltd.

Michael Smith's debate piece (Reference Smith2021) provides some valuable perspectives on the question of why archaeology's relevance to global challenges has not been recognised. He laments that our burgeoning record of publications remains largely irrelevant to other disciplines, citing three main reasons that lie at the feet of archaeologists: a lack of understanding about the construction of relevance; a lack of rigorous scientific epistemology; and a confusion about target audiences.

Smith's argument about relevance and impact is insightful; he argues that “one cannot judge one's own relevance to a different domain” (Smith Reference Smith2021: 1063), but rather, that relevance is determined by end users. Smith argues that although archaeologists may envision their research as relevant to policy-makers, in reality we might have more to gain by influencing social and natural scientists, for it is they who use our archaeological research to address contemporary issues. This is an interesting perspective as it creates intermediaries between our research and its relevance, with researchers in other disciplines as our target audience. It is notable, however, that Smith's discontent with the discipline relates to what he describes as “middle-range empirical and conceptual issues” (Smith Reference Smith2021: 1062); that is, an eagerness to contribute to global issues, while often lacking the means to make an effective contribution. He cites, for instance, research that is concerned with economic systems, urban neighbourhoods, social inequalities or urban sustainability as falling into this ‘middle range’ category of relevance. ‘Middle range’, here, relates to “theory about how the world works” (Sampson, in Smith Reference Smith2021: 1062), with Smith arguing that there are four types of relevance: 1) heritage or descendant concerns; 2) local practical topics; 3) middle-range empirical and conceptual topics; and 4) abstract conceptual topics.

Smith argues that the relevance of other scales of research (1, 2 and 4, above)—particularly the local level—is more self-evident. I am unconvinced, however, that pigeonholing the differing relevance of archaeology does justice to many areas of archaeological research, which I argue transcend the levels of relevance outlined by Smith. A project that investigates land claims (heritage or descendant concerns), for example, may also relate to local production methods (local practical topics), to social inequality and urban sustainability (middle-range empirical and conceptual topics), and to concepts of fairness and justice (abstract conceptual topics). Indeed, one of the strengths and delights of archaeological research is precisely the ability to engage at multiple scales, including multiple scales of relevance (a topic in my mind since writing about this in relation to archaeological teaching, research and practice (Cobb & Croucher Reference Cobb and Croucher2020, inspired by Harris Reference Harris2017)).

I believe that Smith is correct that we (archaeologists) need to go beyond our comfort zones and proactively collaborate with other disciplines, stakeholders and policy-makers, “rather than trying repeatedly to convince ourselves of the relevance of our research” (Smith Reference Smith2021: 1061). I unequivocally agree about the value of transdisciplinary working, and advocate that relevance should remain an integral consideration in our research designs. Perhaps starting with a contemporary ‘need’ is the way forward—asking how our research can contribute to real-world solutions. This approach lies at the heart of my recent transdisciplinary research between archaeologists and healthcare professionals in the project ‘Continuing Bonds: Exploring the Meaning and Legacy of Death Through Past and Contemporary Practice’ (Büster et al. Reference Büster, Croucher, Dayes, Green and Faull2018; Croucher et al. Reference Croucher, Büster, Dayes, Green, Raynsford, Boyes and Faull2021), the central goal of which was determining the role and value of archaeology in the development and implementation of end-of-life planning interventions. Through a transdisciplinary partnership between archaeology, end-of-life medicine, nursing and psychology, we explored the use of archaeology to open dialogues around death and bereavement, and to challenge concepts of ‘right’ or ‘normal’ ways to grieve or deal with death. This has fed into wider research with refugee and host communities using heritage for wellbeing and resilience (Evans et al. Reference Evans, Croucher, Greene and Andrew2020).

I use Smith's (Reference Smith2021: 1064) definition of ‘transdisciplinary’ as meaning “research for which individuals collaborate deeply and learn elements of one another's discipline”. Smith (Reference Smith2021: 1065) is correct in identifying such work as “difficult and time-consuming”, with differences in language, approaches and knowledge-bases. I would add, however, that it can be incredibly enlightening, rewarding and even life-changing. Opinions are changed through ‘threshold moments’, often with a sense of cognitive dissonance, shaping and changing our experiences, knowledge and understanding of the world. Such work often also re-shapes understandings of our own disciplines. In the Continuing Bonds project, working with end-of-life care professionals, academics and psychologists led me to understand various models of bereavement (including their pitfalls). As well as shaping the project and leading to follow-on work (using archaeology) with counsellors and therapists, and with schools (Booth et al. Reference Booth, Croucher and Bryant2020), it has also informed my interpretations of the past, urging me to rethink the phenomena of plastered skulls (Croucher Reference Croucher2017)—and, indeed, to think more widely about the concept of bereavement in archaeological interpretations. Whereas much archaeological research is happy to adopt interpretations that relate to hierarchy (or egalitarianism), status or ritual, more emotive interpretations are still rare (with exceptions, such as the pioneering work of Tarlow (Reference Tarlow2000), key research by Harris and Sørensen (Reference Harris and Sørensen2010) and case studies, such as those by Williams (Reference Williams2007), Giles (Reference Giles, Garrow, Gosden and Hill2008), Nilsson Stutz (Reference Nilsson Stutz, Fleisher and Norman2016), Harris (Reference Harris2017), MacDougal (Reference MacDougal, Klass and Steffen2017) and Büster (Reference Büster2021)). While we cannot identify the exact emotions surrounding death in the past, recognition that grief may have played a role in the ancient treatment of the dead should not seem far-fetched—arguably we might have as much to say about reactions to loss as we do about hierarchical social structures in the past.

Smith (Reference Smith2021) is also an advocate of generating rigorous, usually quantitative, data. To refer back to giants on whose shoulders I metaphorically stand, there are critiques of an over emphasis on quantitative empirical data, with more nuanced understandings arising from different, often qualitative, methods (e.g. Wylie Reference Wylie and Embree1992; Conkey & Tringham Reference Conkey, Tringham and Wright1996; Conkey & Gero Reference Conkey and Gero1997; Joyce & Tringham Reference Joyce and Tringham2007). This is not to say that such methods are less rigorous, but they often provide complex, ambiguous and subtle results that are more realistic and less binary.

Finally, I would like to know more about how Smith sees his arguments relating to marginalised voices. Is it sufficient to communicate our “middle-range empirical and conceptual issues” (Smith Reference Smith2021: 1062) to researchers in other disciplines? Or do we need to co-produce projects actively with our end users? Or, indeed, seek actively to include marginalised voices—whether related to the decolonising agenda, those with protected characteristics or even victims of climate change? Perhaps the way forward lies in multi-plural approaches to working with social and natural scientists, while also ensuring the questions that lie at the heart of our research are socially valuable and seek solutions to challenges at all scales.

Acknowledgements

As ever, thanks are owed to my collaborators and participants on the Continuing Bonds and related projects. Thank you also to Lindsey Büster and James Walker for commenting on my thoughts above.

Funding statement

The Continuing Bonds and Breathe projects are funded by the Arts and Humanities Research Council. Further funding was also provided by the University of Bradford and the Higher Education Innovation Fund.

References

Booth, J., Croucher, K. & Bryant, E.. 2020. Dying to talk? Co-producing resources with young people to get them talking about bereavement, death and dying. Voluntary Sector Review. https://doi.org/10.1332/204080520X16014085811284Google Scholar
Büster, L. 2021. Problematic stuff: death, memory and the interpretation of cached objects. Antiquity 95: 973–85.CrossRefGoogle Scholar
Büster, L., Croucher, K., Dayes, J., Green, L. & Faull, C.. 2018. From plastered skulls to palliative care: what the past can teach us about dealing with death. Online Journal in Public Archaeology 8: 249–76. https://doi.org/10.23914/ap.v8i2.147CrossRefGoogle Scholar
Cobb, H. & Croucher, K.. 2020. Assembling archaeology: teaching, practice and research. Oxford: Oxford University Press. https://doi.org/10.1093/oso/9780198784258.001.0001CrossRefGoogle Scholar
Conkey, M.W. & Gero, J.M.. 1997. Programme to practice: gender and feminism in archaeology. Annual Review of Anthropology 26: 411–31. https://doi.org/10.1146/annurev.anthro.26.1.411CrossRefGoogle Scholar
Conkey, M.W. & Tringham, R.E.. 1996. Cultivating thinking/challenging authority: some experiments in feminist pedagogy in archaeology, in Wright, R.P. (ed.) Gender and archaeology: 224–50. Philadelphia: University of Pennsylvania Press.Google Scholar
Croucher, K. 2017. Keeping the dead close: grief and bereavement in the treatment of skulls from the Neolithic Middle East. Mortality 23: 103–20. https://doi.org/10.1080/13576275.2017.1319347CrossRefGoogle Scholar
Croucher, K., Büster, L., Dayes, J., Green, L., Raynsford, J., Boyes, L. Comerford & Faull, C.. 2021. Archaeology and contemporary death: using the past to provoke, challenge and engage. PLoS ONE 15: e0244058. https://doi.org/10.1371/journal.pone.0244058Google Scholar
Evans, A.A., Croucher, K., Greene, O. & Andrew, W.. 2020. Virtual heritage for resilience building (version 1). Zenodo. http://doi.org/10.5281/zenodo.3950360Google Scholar
Giles, M. 2008. Seeing red: the aesthetics of martial objects in the British and Irish Iron Age, in Garrow, D., Gosden, C. & Hill, J.D. (ed.) Rethinking Celtic art: 5977. Oxford: Oxbow. https://doi.org/10.2307/j.ctvh1dmpg.7CrossRefGoogle Scholar
Harris, O.J.T. 2017. Assemblages and scale in archaeology. Cambridge Archaeological Journal 27: 127–39. https://doi.org/10.1017/S0959774316000597CrossRefGoogle Scholar
Harris, O.J.T. & Sørensen, T.F.. 2010. Rethinking emotion and material culture. Archaeological Dialogues 17: 145–63. https://doi.org/10.1017/S1380203810000206CrossRefGoogle Scholar
Joyce, R. & Tringham, R.. 2007. Feminist adventures in hypertext. Journal of Archaeological Method and Theory 14: 328–58. https://doi.org/10.1007/s10816-007-9036-2CrossRefGoogle Scholar
MacDougal, R. 2017. Ancient Mesopotamian remembrance and the family dead, in Klass, D. & Steffen, E.M. (ed.) Continuing bonds in bereavement: new directions for research and practice: 262–75. Abingdon: Taylor & Francis. https://doi.org/10.4324/9781315202396-26CrossRefGoogle Scholar
Nilsson Stutz, L. 2016. The importance of ‘getting it right’: tracing anxiety in Mesolithic burial rituals, in Fleisher, J. & Norman, N. (ed.) The archaeology of anxiety: the materiality of anxiousness, worry, and fear: 2140. New York: Springer. https://doi.org/10.1007/978-1-4939-3231-3_2CrossRefGoogle Scholar
Smith, M.E. 2021. Why archaeology's relevance to global challenges has not been recognised. Antiquity 95: 1061–69. https://doi.org/10.15184/aqy.2021.42CrossRefGoogle Scholar
Tarlow, S. 2000. Emotion in archaeology. Current Anthropology 41: 713–46. https://doi.org/10.1086/317404CrossRefGoogle Scholar
Williams, H. 2007. The emotive force of early medieval mortuary practices. Archaeological Review from Cambridge 22: 107–23.Google Scholar
Wylie, A. 1992. On ‘heavily decomposing red herrings’: scientific method in archaeology and the ladening of evidence with theory, in Embree, L. (ed.) Metaarchaeology: reflections by archaeologists and philosophers: 269–88 (Boston Studies in the Philosophy of Science 147). Dordrecht: Springer. https://doi.org/10.1007/978-94-011-1826-2_12CrossRefGoogle Scholar