2.1: The Archaeological Process

B. Jacob Skousen, Ph.D., Illinois State Archaeological Survey

Learning Objectives

• Describe the process of archaeological projects from start to finish
• Describe how archaeologists plan, conduct, and complete archaeological projects by following the archaeological process
• Correct inaccurate and often romanticized views of archaeology by explaining how the archaeological process involves more than fieldwork in faraway places

The purpose of this chapter is to describe the archaeological process, defined here as a generalized series of steps or tasks an archaeologist takes to develop, conduct, and complete archaeological projects. The term “archaeological process,” however, is somewhat of a misnomer. The archaeological process is not a one-size-fits-all set of rules that can simply be applied to any archaeological project. Because each project is unique and has its own goals, requirements, and challenges, not every aspect of the archaeological process discussed below will be required for all projects (though, as will become evident, some steps are more important than others and will always be part of any project).

Another critical point is that the archaeological process is fluid. The steps in an archaeological project may not proceed in a simple, linear fashion. In many cases, the steps of the archaeological process and the order in which they occur depend on the context the project has arisen from as well as available time and money, ethical concerns, relevant laws and required permits, the needs and concerns of other people, institutional and financial delays, and more (see the Special Topics box for a real-life example). Additionally, sometimes certain steps of the archaeological process will bleed into or become intertwined with others. Still, this chapter will help those who want to better understand how archaeological projects are conducted and the steps archaeologists take to perform them properly and ethically.

Special Topics: Real-World Archaeological Project

This project shows that the archaeological process often does not always follow a prescribed series of steps as described in this chapter. Archaeologists often have to work with what they have, given constraints of time and money and other logistical issues. This example shows that projects can be successful even when there are constraints. In this case, a project has provided important information about the history of a little-known region in Illinois. Additionally, it has made and will continue to make a favorable impression on the landowner and his family and teach them a little about archaeology and its importance.

Figure 1. The author examining an eroding precontact roasting pit in southeastern Illinois. (Photo courtesy of Robert McCullough.)

When the landowner and I met for the first time, he showed me some of the artifacts he had collected and took me around the farm to the areas where he had found the artifacts. During the tour, he showed me red-colored soil that was eroding out of a stream bank (Figure 1). When I took a closer look, I saw that this red-colored soil was part of a buried archaeological feature, likely a hearth or a firepit, and that it would be destroyed very soon given the torrential rainstorms the area experiences. I asked if he would allow me and a few of my colleagues to come back at another time and excavate this feature before it was destroyed. He agreed and was excited to see what the excavation might uncover.

Several colleagues and I returned a few weeks later (April 2019) and, with the landowner, spent the day excavating the feature. The feature turned out to be a thin, oval-shaped, 12-foot-long roasting pit, complete with rock lining and a layer of ash at the base of the pit that likely dated to some time during the precontact period (before European contact, which in Illinois is generally viewed as the mid-17th century CE) (Figure 2). It was a long, exhausting day, My colleagues and I had gotten up early; made the three-hour drive to the site; uncovered, mapped, excavated, and photographed the feature in about six hours; recorded the control points with a high-accuracy GPS; backfilled the excavation hole by hand; and made the return trip all in the same day.

Figure 2. Soil profile of precontact roasting pit in southeastern Illinois. (Map courtesy of the author.)

The landowner was excited about the find and the possibility that there could be others like it on his property. Together we decided to conduct a magnetometry survey on some of the other sites on his property to get an idea of the number and density of subsurface archaeological features that may still exist. In December 2019, I applied for a small grant from a local historical society to pay for the survey. Unfortunately, I did not get the grant. But much to my surprise, in early 2020 the landowner made a generous donation to my employer with the understanding that I would conduct a pedestrian survey on his property to record any remaining archaeological sites and conduct a magnetometry survey on some of these sites.

After nailing down work schedules and working around the harvest season and COVID-19 restrictions and concerns, we met at his property in October 2020 to conduct the pedestrian survey. The landowner, his brother, one of my colleagues, and I performed the survey, which confirmed the location of the sites the landowner had already identified. Based on the artifacts collected, most sites had several occupations that spanned from the Archaic period (~8000–1200 BCE) to the Mississippian period (~1100–1500 CE).

The magnetometry survey took place in November 2020. The setup was complex. We first set up by hand a series of grids 20 x 20 meters in size over the sites we wanted to survey. Then I performed the survey with help from the landowner and my 15-year-old son. The results of the survey were excellent. Clusters of intact subsurface features were evident on several of the sites. We could not complete the magnetometer survey during this trip, but we returned a year and a half later (March 2022) and completed the survey.

Since then, I have completed a report on the results of the entire project (pedestrian survey, magnetometry survey, and excavations) for the landowner and the state archaeologist. I also wrote and submitted an article to the state archaeology journal about the project and what we learned about the overall history of the area. I will use the remaining money from the donation to pay for fees to permanently curate the recovered artifacts, geophysical survey data, and associated documents and photographs at the Illinois State Museum.

This project shows that the archaeological process does not always follow a prescribed series of steps similar to those described in this chapter. Archaeologists often have to work with within time, money, and logistical constraints. But as this example shows, projects can be successful even with constraints. In this case, it has provided important information about the history of a little-known region in Illinois. Additionally, it has made and will continue to make a favorable impression on the landowner and his family and teach them a little about archaeology and its importance.

How Do Archaeological Projects Begin?

The vast majority of archaeological work that takes place in the United States (and in many other countries) is a result of either 1) research projects (often conducted by archaeologists who work at universities or research institutions); or, more commonly, 2) cultural resource management (CRM) projects. Archaeological research projects, as with research projects in other scientific disciplines, begin with a question or a problem. The question or problem usually depends on the researcher’s interests and expertise. Some questions and problems are simple. For example, the question “What people or cultures lived in this area and when did they live here?” is commonly asked when minimal archaeological work has taken place in a particular area or region. This type of question must be answered before archaeologists can formulate other questions. Some research questions are more complex. A researcher may want to know, for instance, when a group of people became sedentary or how people at a particular settlement constructed a collective identity.

Beginning in the second half of the 20th century, an increasing number of archaeological projects were conducted under the umbrella of CRM archaeology. This was because of the increased need for infrastructure all over the world. As a result of this need, a formal effort was made to establish cultural resource laws to protect important places, landscapes, buildings, artifacts, and so on from destruction during these infrastructure projects (Figure 3). Today, most archaeological work performed throughout the world takes place as CRM projects (for more information on the major cultural resource laws, see the chapter on Cultural Resource Managment).

Figure 3 – Most archaeological work is done as part of Cultural Resource Management (CRM) projects. (“178/365 – Urban Archaeology” by ecospc is licensed under CC BY 2.0.)

Countries have their own versions of cultural resource laws. Each version provides varying levels of protection for archaeological sites, landscapes, materials, and data. In most cases, archaeologists hear of or are informed about infrastructure projects (e.g., roads, power lines, pipelines, power plants, housing developments, reservoirs) and are hired to perform archaeological work to comply with the applicable cultural resource laws. For example, the best-known federal cultural resource law in the United States, the National Historic Preservation Act, requires that any development or improvement project that occurs on federal land or is funded by federal money must evaluate the potential impacts of these projects on cultural resources (archaeological sites, landscapes, buildings, artifacts, and so on).

Based on the details of the planned infrastructure project, CRM archaeologists develop a plan to identify, evaluate, protect, and excavate the sites and/or resources that includes an estimate of how much money will be needed to perform these tasks. Because they do not choose what kinds of sites or time periods they investigate, CRM archaeologists investigate all sites, artifacts, buildings, monuments, landscapes, and so on within the project area and parameters and should always strive to make thoughtful, accurate recommendations to the developers about how to best conserve, record, or mitigate archaeological remains.

Some projects are more accurately called salvage archaeology, also known as rescue archaeology. This is when archaeologists conduct archaeological work at a site that was partially destroyed or damaged or is about to be destroyed or damaged due to development, erosion or other natural processes, natural disasters and extreme weather events, civic and economic unrest, war, neglect, or looting (Figure 4). These projects are often necessary because not all CRM laws are created equal—some only protect certain kinds of archaeological and historical sites or sites on certain types of land. Additionally, laws are often not enforced due to limited time and resources. Even when CRM laws are enforced, the penalties for breaking these laws are not always severe enough to compel developers to comply with them. In the United States, for instance, CRM laws in some states do not protect archaeological sites on private property. Thus, landowners can legally destroy sites and do not have to pay for archaeological evaluation or excavation before they make changes on their property. Fortunately, most states have laws that protect human remains and sites with human remains, regardless of who owns the land.

Figure 4. An archaeologist examining a profile of an unsanctioned landfill hole for intact archaeological features. (Photo courtesy of Michael Farkas.)

Salvage archaeology projects are challenging. More often than not, archaeologists hear about a site that is in danger and throw together whatever money, volunteers, and other resources they can in order to excavate, collect, and record any information before the site is destroyed. Thus, salvage jobs often have limited funding and labor, take place in poor weather conditions, do not always employ ideal archaeological recovery and recording techniques, and can only document sites, features, and materials that are already compromised or have been partially destroyed (Figure 5). While such conditions are far from ideal, most archaeologists recognize that any work, even if it is incomplete and/or could not use ideal recovery and recording techniques, is better than nothing.

Figure 5. Salvage excavation of a precontact roasting pit that was eroding out of a creek bank in southeastern Illinois. (Photo courtesy of the author.)

Perhaps the most crucial (yet often overlooked) aspect of beginning an archaeological project is a discussion of ideas and possibilities with communities, individuals, and representatives who have an interest in or ties to the sites, objects, and time periods in question. In the United States, these communities and representatives include tribal historic preservation officers, historical societies or organizations, and communities or groups with ties to an archaeological site. Ideally, archaeologists should develop research questions and projects in collaboration with these communities and individuals so their interests, concerns, and interpretations are represented. Even CRM archaeologists, who generally do not choose where a project occurs or what sites are investigated, should actively reach out to interested parties, especially descendant communities, to inform them of the project and to get their perspective on what sites, objects, and landscapes are important to them and why (see the chapter on Archaeological Ethics and World Heritage). These discussions and collaborations should continue throughout all steps of the archaeological process, regardless of the order, to the extent that is possible.

In the rest of this chapter, I describe the eight steps of the archaeological process: background research; research design; obtaining funding; obtaining permission; conducting fieldwork; processing, analyzing, and interpreting data; curation; and dissemination. Archaeologists should consider these steps, though again not necessarily in that order, when developing and performing a project.

Background Research

In Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade, one of the most iconic archaeology movies of all time, Indiana Jones, when describing the purpose and process of archaeology to a group of college students, states that “70% of all archaeology is done in the library . . . research, reading.” This is one of the rare moments when Indiana Jones is correct. While the exact amount of time background research takes varies from project to project (it can be more or less than 70% of a project), it is a crucial and time-consuming part of both CRM and research archaeology projects.

After receiving a particular project or developing a research question, the next step for an archaeologist is to conduct background research. Many CRM archaeologists call this a literature review. At the very least, this step involves reading about the project area—about the local geology, plant and animal life, and environment; about previously identified archaeological sites in the area; about past excavations in the area; about past property owners; and about any human-made modifications to the landscape that might affect the integrity of archaeological deposits or an archaeological site. This information can be obtained from a variety of sources, including previous archaeological reports and publications, geological and environmental studies, recent and older maps of the area, local histories, newspapers, property leases, and census data. Often it is useful to talk to landowners, collectors, or individuals living in the area who know the history, local archaeology sites, and activities that took place in the area. This information can help archaeologists contextualize and interpret what they find and is included in reports and other publications.

An archaeologist conducting research for a project should learn about the same things as a CRM archaeologist—the environment, site history, modifications to the landscape or site in question, and other archaeological sites and projects in the area. In addition, an archaeologist should read about past research on the topic in question. If a researcher wants to conduct a project on farming practices during the Classic Maya period in the Maya Lowlands, for example, they should be familiar with publications that describe the local rainfall and soils, the kinds of crops that were grown, the methods of farming used in the past, the tools used for farming, theories about plant domestication in the region, and the development and history of agriculture in the Maya Lowlands.

Perhaps most important, both research and CRM archaeologists should be familiar with literature pertaining to the group or groups they study. Archaeologists working on Indigenous sites, for instance, should be familiar with the culture, beliefs, and writings of the Indigenous groups there. Archaeologists working on African American sites in the United States should be familiar with African American history and appropriate readings in African American Studies that pertain to the particular project, site, or topic. Knowing this information provides further context and helps generate more informed, worthwhile questions and interpretations.

Developing Methods or a “Research Design”

Archaeological methods refer to the procedures, techniques, and instruments archaeologists use to complete an archaeological project (see the chapter on Excavating Archaelogical Sites). There are all kinds of methods that are commonly used by all archaeologists. Some of the most basic field methods, for instance, include the pedestrian survey (aka, a surface survey or reconnaissance-level survey), shovel testing, and unit excavations made by hand. However, the specific ways these methods are performed vary widely and can depend on the project goals, the requirements of cultural resource laws, and the variety of specific techniques available. Remote sensing, for example, is a basic method that archaeologists regularly employ, but there are many different kinds of remote sensing techniques and the methods used for them vary. Each technique requires a specific body of knowledge, specific instruments and tools, walking in certain ways and at certain speeds, specific software packages to process the data, and more. The term research design refers to a formal statement of the project goals, an outline of the methods that will be used to reach the project goals, and the ideas and theories underlying the goals and methods. Many of the field methods typically used in archaeological projects—for example, surveys, GIS, remote sensing, and excavation—are described in the other chapters of this textbook.

For research projects, developing the research design depends on both the questions asked and the theories underlying the questions and topics. A researcher who is interested in determining the distribution and chronology of ancient settlements in a particular region, for example, should use methods to identify archaeological sites over a wide area and determine the chronology of these sites. The methods would almost certainly include pedestrian survey and perhaps shovel testing and remote sensing techniques to identify the number of sites within the area of interest. They would also include collecting diagnostic artifacts from sites to determine when each site was used or inhabited based on particular theories of how and why styles of objects and materials change over time. A researcher interested in changes in diet would perform excavations on sites where food preparation and consumption occurred.

The methods used for CRM projects depend on the scope of the job. The basic archaeological methods and techniques are the same regardless of whether the project is a CRM or research project. Phase I projects generally require literature reviews and pedestrian surveys, shovel testing, or geophysical surveys to determine whether archaeological sites exist, the size of the sites, and the integrity of the sites. Phase II projects often require more intensive testing such as test unit excavations. Phase III projects are even more intensive, sometimes involving the complete excavation of a particular area or site. In addition to fieldwork, CRM projects usually require at least basic analyses of the materials recovered in order to evaluate the type of sites that exist, their chronology, and their historical importance. The methods used to examine each type of material depend on the project goals and research questions.

The methods chosen also depend on the amount of money and time available for the project. This is why obtaining money for both CRM and research projects is a crucial step in the archaeological process. Archaeologists who have the necessary funds generally have no problem following the methods outlined in the research design in order to complete the project. Time also plays a significant role in the type of methods an archaeologist uses. For example, archaeologists often have limited time when performing salvage excavations, and this changes the methods they employ during the salvage work.

If the project requires fieldwork, it is important that the methods developed are the least destructive option but will still answer the research question or fulfill the project goals. For example, if a research question can be answered by examining collections from museums or curated repositories that were obtained during past archaeological projects, using those resources is better than performing additional fieldwork to gather more data. If excavating 10 test units 1 x 1 meter in size in carefully chosen locations of a particular site will provide enough information to answer the research question, then there is no need to conduct more extensive excavations. The archaeological record is finite and excavations are destructive and expensive, so archaeologists make every effort to minimize the impact their research will have on each site. However, if the site will be destroyed, complete excavation of a site may be necessary.

Collaboration with descendant communities is crucial when developing methods for a project. Some places, landscapes, monuments, buildings, and so on are important—in some cases sacred—to particular communities, and these communities may not want these places or things to be excavated or altered and would prefer that noninvasive techniques (e.g., remote sensing) be used instead. Thus, it is vital that archaeologists develop research projects and particularly the methods used in these projects in collaboration with descendant communities.

Obtaining Funding

Funding is a critical step in the archaeological process. CRM projects always involve funding of some kind. Traditionally, upon learning of a potential archaeological project, a CRM company submits an estimate of how much it will cost to complete the project. After reviewing the estimates that interested CRM companies have submitted, the employer hires the CRM company they have chosen to undertake the project based on that company’s qualifications, reputation, and, more often than not, the cost estimate provided. Unfortunately, since employers are more likely to hire the CRM company that submits the lowest estimates, this often encourages CRM companies to submit the lowest possible estimate in order to get the job. This, in turn, can sometimes lead to shoddy or incomplete work.

Obtaining funding for research projects is a different process. In most cases, research projects are performed by archaeologists in academia (i.e., those who teach at colleges or universities), and they must obtain outside funds to conduct these projects, whether they be field-based, laboratory-based, or something else altogether. Funds can come from a variety of sources, but grants are the most common source. In the United States, some of the more popular federal funding sources are the National Science Foundation and the National Endowment for the Humanities, whose funds come from taxpayer money. Funds can also come from anthropological or archaeological professional organizations, such as the Archaeological Institute of America, the National Geographic Society, or the Wenner-Gren Foundation. Since professional organizations are generally nonprofit entities, their grant funds mostly come from fund-raisers and private donations. Each of these types of organizations fund archaeological and non-archaeological research projects from all over the world, which means that funding from them is very competitive and difficult to obtain.

The amount of funding required for a project depends on the goals of the project and the size of the entity or organization providing the funds. Small projects typically require less money, which means that an archaeologist can apply for smaller, less competitive grants from a local or state institution or group. For large projects that require more money, applying for larger, more competitive grants makes more sense. The type of work being conducted for a project also dictates where an archaeologist seeks funding. A project that involves large-scale excavations requires more money (excavation is time-consuming and expensive), but a project that involves a large-scale pedestrian survey would require less money, since pedestrian survey is far less expensive. Specialized analyses are often more expensive because particular resources are required to conduct the analysis and only a small number of people have the knowledge, skills, and facilities to do that work. Thus, archaeologists must carefully consider and calculate the amount of money needed to perform the required work based on the costs of field work or lab work, particular tests the project requires (e.g., radiocarbon dates), the specific kinds of analyses needed (e.g., lithic or ceramic analysis or more specialized analyses such as residue analysis), curation of the material and data produced during the project, and publication and dissemination of information about the project.

Obtaining Permission

This step is necessary for any archaeological project and generally occurs in tandem with obtaining funds. In most places around the world, cultural resource laws protect archaeological objects, collections, sites, monuments, and landscapes. Thus, archaeologists who wish to conduct research on a particular collection or at a particular site or area should know the cultural resource laws that apply and obtain permission from the government officials or agencies who oversee and enforce these laws. In most cases, obtaining permission requires that an archaeologist apply for a permit. An application for a permit usually requires a description of the project, a timeline, the methods the archaeologist plans to use, the archaeologist’s qualifications, and the intended products. Such applications are required for both CRM and research or academic archaeology. In addition to protecting cultural resources, permits also ensure quality control because they are granted only to qualified and competent archaeologists. The time it takes to apply for and obtain permits varies. Since obtaining permits can be a long, drawn-out process, archaeologists should begin the permit application process early enough to ensure that they can meet project deadlines and goals.

If the proposed project will take place on private land, the archaeologist must also obtain permission from the landowner before conducting the work. Depending on the cultural resource laws in a particular area, an archaeologist may not always need to obtain a permit from a government organization to work on private land, but it is always necessary to obtain permission from the landowner. This is often a less formal, more fluid, and sometimes more frustrating process. In some cases, landowners are very interested in archaeology and gladly allow archaeologists to perform work on their property. More often, however, landowners are hesitant about granting permission. Some owners are openly hostile to anyone who requests access to their property, including those with legitimate reasons to do so. Archaeologists should never assume that landowners will be open to or supportive of an archaeological project on their property and should plan accordingly.

One of the best ways an archaeologist can limit hesitancy or hostility among local populations and landowners is to establish relationships with residents in the regions where they work (Figure 6). Generally, people are more willing to have a conversation with and trust an archaeologist who is friendly and relaxed, understanding, and interested in the community’s well-being (and not just the archaeology within the community) instead of being demanding. When communities and landowners know and have positive relationships with archaeologists, they are more willing to allow them to conduct work on their property. In the best-case scenarios, landowners become interested in and participate in the project and work to preserve the site. Building relationships of trust with local communities and individuals takes time, effort, and patience. For those who work exclusively in certain areas or regions, building these relationships is a career-long pursuit. Regardless of how one chooses how to build relationships of trust, it is important to factor the time, effort, and money this requires into project timelines.

Figure 6. Building relationships of trust with landowners is crucial in obtaining permission to conduct archaeological work on private property and an ethical obligation. (Photo courtesy of Madeleine Evans.)

For lab-based projects, an archaeologist must obtain permission and permits to perform the work. If an archaeologist is interested in analyzing a collection from a museum, for instance, they must first secure permission from museum curators and staff to examine the collection, which often requires applying for a permit, much like archaeologists performing field projects. The permit process is more complicated if analyses will cause damage to collection items. Examples of such analyses include radiocarbon dates on botanical samples, some techniques for analyzing pottery residue, and DNA studies on animal or human bone (for ethical issues on bioarchaeology work, see the Bioarchaeology chapter). In any lab-based project, descendant communities should be consulted about the goals, the methods used, and which materials and collections can be handled. Even if it is not specifically required by law, collaboration is the ethical thing to do.

Conducting Fieldwork

This is perhaps the most variable part of the archaeological process. It often, though not always, takes the least amount of time compared to other steps in the archaeological process. Archaeologists often call this step data collection. The way a project is conducted should follow the research design that was developed earlier in the project and was specified in permits and grant proposals. This is also the step that receives the most press. We’ve all watched documentaries and read popular articles that showcase events such as archaeologists unearthing the remains of a skeleton provisionally identified as King Richard III, an identification that was later confirmed by DNA analysis; X-raying Egyptian animal mummies; or identifying Maya monumental architecture in the jungles of Central America through remote sensing technology.

While fieldwork captures public attention, it also feeds into the widespread but problematic and overly romantic view that archaeology is all about uncovering “secrets” of past peoples and that archaeologists are rugged explorers who spend most of their time excavating in the field, often in dangerous conditions. Of course, many archaeologists, myself included, love being in the field. It allows us to visit places that are new to us, see interesting artifacts and features, and literally reconstruct history as it is being unearthed. And fieldwork can indeed be hazardous. (Cuts, bruises, sprained ankles, and heat-related maladies are very common, and I have had the misfortune of nearly being stampeded by an elk herd, struck by lightning, stung by scorpions, and arrested by a military police force in another country.) These issues should be considered and addressed in the research design of the project. The problem is that notions of discovery, danger, and adventure overshadow both the goal of fieldwork, which is to recover information that can be used to reconstruct and interpret the past, and the methodological, often mundane, techniques that characterize fieldwork, such as writing detailed descriptions of contexts, making maps, taking photographs, describing soils, and bagging artifacts (see the Excavation chapter).

Additionally, field school courses can perpetuate the idea that fieldwork is the most important part of archaeology. Such courses are required for archaeology undergraduate students at many universities and are often viewed as the culmination of a person’s archaeological training, a primary requirement for getting a first archaeology job, and part of becoming “a real archaeologist.” While field-based courses are undoubtedly important and beginning archaeologists should participate in these courses if possible, they are overemphasized compared to other parts of the archaeological process. An overemphasis on fieldwork can lead to poor understanding among aspiring archaeologists and the general public that there is a process to archaeology, that only a small portion of that process occurs in the field, and that archaeology also involves other forms of hard work that take place in libraries, labs, and museums.

Processing, Analyzing, and Interpreting Data

After the data are collected during the fieldwork part of the project, they need to be processed, analyzed, and interpreted. In most cases, this step takes the most amount of time of all the steps of the archaeological process. A realistic estimate is that for every month in the field, it takes at least three months of work to process and analyze the information recovered. Of course, the exact amount of time for processing and analysis depends on the project, the type of data collected, and the types of analyses an archaeologist performs (for more information about the types of analyses archaeologists often do, see the chapters on Ancient Technologies, Ancient Foodways, and Bioarchaeology).

At a minimum, processing artifacts involves washing, sorting, and labeling each one with basic contextual information (such as the name of the site, the name of the feature where it was identified, and the level from which the artifact was recovered) (Figure 7). Artifacts are then re-bagged in curation-standard containers or bags, which are also labeled with provenience information. The types of bags and the information required on labels depend on cultural resource laws and/or the institution or facility curating the material. It is crucial for archaeologists to know the applicable cultural resource laws, to have a plan for curation, and to understand the requirements of storage facilities or museums. While the step of processing artifacts sometimes seems like a tedious task, it is often part of field schools or lab analysis classes and is often one of the first jobs a beginning archaeologist is tasked with. This is because processing artifacts is an excellent opportunity to learn how to identify and handle different artifact types, knowledge that is vital for field and lab work.

Figure 7. Processing data, which includes washing and sorting artifacts, is one of the steps in the archaeological process. (Photo courtesy of the author.)

Artifacts are not the only type of information that archaeologists collect during a project. Notes, maps, and other forms and paperwork are a standard part of most field projects (Figure 8). In such situations, an archaeologist must ensure that the physical documents, notes, maps, and so on are completed, checked, and rechecked for clarity and accuracy after data collection is completed. Then, these documents, notes, and maps should be scanned into a digital format. This is now common practice because digital data takes far less room and management than hard copies and they serve as a backup in case the hard copies are lost or destroyed. If other types of data are collected, they too must be processed. Remote sensing data, for example, must be organized, cleaned, and backed up; GIS data must be downloaded into appropriate GIS software programs and incorporated into both physical and digital maps; and results of a residue analysis on pottery must be tabulated, backed up, and rendered into graphs or charts for presentation and interpretation.

Figure 8. Notes, maps, and paperwork are important archaeological data and their long-term curation is part of the archaeological process. (Photo courtesy of the author.)

Next, the data must be analyzed. The analyses that archaeologists do depend on the goal of the project or the research questions being asked and the types of data that are collected (Figure 9). Most CRM projects involve, at minimum, determining the chronology of a site or artifact. This usually requires a basic analysis of potentially diagnostic artifacts such as pottery or lithic tools. This type of analysis is easier when certain artifact types and chronologies in a region or area have already been established by researchers. When no diagnostic artifacts are recovered, archaeologists often resort to absolute dating techniques, such as radiocarbon dating. When archaeologists lack the equipment and expertise for performing such analyses, they send appropriate samples to accredited labs that are equipped to perform those analyses. While some research projects require only basic analyses, others involve more targeted questions that require different types of analyses. Again, the types of analyses should already have been specified in the research design, grant applications, and permits for the project.

Finally, the data are interpreted. Interpretations address the original research question or goal of the project. This step always involves blending the archaeologist’s theoretical approach and the data obtained during the project. Many archaeologists formulate hypotheses as part of their projects. Hypotheses are proposed explanations of something based on available evidence. They typically involve if-then statements that are attached to the project goal or research question. For instance, an archaeologist studying status differences between individuals in a particular ancient village could create the following hypothesis: if a structure excavated in the village was larger and better constructed than others and contained nonlocal materials and elaborately decorated objects not typically found in other structures, then this structure was the home of a person with high status (note the “if” and “then” components of this statement). Obviously, this hypothesis is based on certain theoretical assumptions—for example, it assumes that higher-status people had greater access to labor and nonlocal materials and that the artifacts found in the structure were associated with the residents of the structure—but it demonstrates how an archaeologist could use archaeological data to test their assumptions. When disseminating the results of the project, archaeologists tend to write or present the information in a narrative form and often do not directly state their hypotheses. But it is always the case that their interpretations rely on testing hypotheses and on melding questions, theory, and data.

Figure 9. Analyzing data, in this case botanical remains, is necessary to answer the research goals of an archaeological project. (Photo courtesy of the author.)

Curation

Curation is one of the most important but most underappreciated and neglected steps in the archaeological process. Curation is the practice of cataloging, preserving, storing, and caring for archaeological collections and data. Every archaeological project, regardless of the type, size, or scope, involves the production of some kind of data. These data can include physical remains (artifacts, samples, paperwork, and maps) and/or digital data (digital photographs, scanned paperwork, digital forms and data tables, GIS data, 3D scans of artifacts, and geophysical data). These data must be stored and preserved in appropriate curation facilities or museums to ensure that they are available to other archaeologists, researchers, and interested parties for future research, displays, education, and appreciation (Figure 10).

Figure 10 – Curation is one of the most important but underappreciated steps in the archaeological process. (Photo courtesy of the author.)

Permanent curation and care of data should be part of every plan or research design for an archaeological project. This requires, first, that arrangements are made and money is secured for curation before a project even starts. To do this, the archaeologist generally contacts a curator or collections manager from an accredited facility or museum to see if the facility is able and has the room to curate the data that will be generated during the project. When the amount of data that will be collected during some projects is not known, an archaeologist must make a best estimate. Sometimes cultural resource laws stipulate the particular museum or facility where the data must be curated. This is another reason why archaeologists must know the laws and regulations of the region where they work. After the archaeologist finds a curation facility that is able and willing to store the artifacts, the next step is to generate a written document that states the parameters of the agreement. Specifics of agreements vary, but they typically include the names of the parties entering the agreement, the types of data/collections to be curated, the dates when the data/collections will be transferred, the amount that curation will cost, and standards for the data (e.g., a statement that the artifacts will be washed and labeled, that artifact bags will labeled, and that digital data will arrive in a certain format). In many cases, these details have already been established by the institution and templates of such agreements are available.

Figure 11. Fire-cracked rocks, or stones that have broken after heating, are a type of “redundant” artifact and are often counted, weighed, and discarded before a collection is curated. (Photo courtesy of the author.)

Often curation facilities and museums do not accept artifacts—such as fire-cracked rock, rubble, and unmodified rocks—that provide “redundant” information, or archaeological data that are repetitive and thus do not add to the interpretation of an archaeological site or area (Figure 11).

The reason for this is the curation crisis, a term that refers to the ever-growing shortage of storage space available for properly curating and caring for archaeological collections. This is why archaeologists must collaborate with curators to determine the facility’s policy and learn what they must do to select artifacts in preparation for curation.

Dissemination

One of the final steps of the archaeological process is dissemination, or informing other researchers and the public of the results of an archaeological project through reports, articles, presentations, and outreach. In many ways, dissemination of archaeological information and knowledge is the culmination of an archaeological project. This is one of the most crucial steps in the archaeological process because of the concept that nobody “owns” the past. Archaeologists are ethically obligated to share knowledge and project results with as wide an audience as possible.

One of the most common ways archaeologists do this is through publication. There are a wide variety of publication venues. Reports are perhaps the most common publication venue for CRM archaeologists. In many cases, reports are required by the laws that drive CRM archaeology. They contain the results of the project, the importance of the sites and artifacts found to the fields of archaeology and history, and recommendations or suggestions regarding how to proceed with a given infrastructure project. Research archaeologists, on the other hand, typically publish the results of their work in peer-reviewed journals and books. While these kinds of publications usually present some form of data, they often also address larger research, theoretical, and methodological questions. Both CRM and research archaeologists present their findings at professional archaeological meetings and conferences and sometimes even in introductory-level textbooks like this one.

While publication is crucial and is often considered the pinnacle of dissemination, sharing archaeological findings should not end there because these formats reach only certain audiences. Reports, for example, are generally only read by CRM archaeologists and their employers and often become gray literature, which means they are not widely known and are difficult to acquire. Research articles are typically read by academics and researchers associated with research institutions or universities, and it can be difficult and costly for the general public to obtain access to such sources. Fortunately, this problem is slowly getting better as archaeologists are beginning to publish their work in freely accessible open-source journals and formats, which are available to the wider public.

In order to reach broader audiences, archaeologists often present their findings at public outreach events (see the chapter on Public Outreach). This can include giving public lectures or talks at local libraries and historical societies, giving presentations to primary school–aged children, making booths and posters for local gatherings and events, organizing public artifact identification events, or leading tours of archaeological sites (Figure 12). Some archaeologists share their research by designing displays in museums and local historical societies. More tech-savvy archaeologists create blogs, videos, and social media posts on archaeological projects. These forms of communication tend to be shared far more widely than other formats. Finally, some archaeologists are interviewed by local radio stations, newspapers, and TV networks about a project. This is a rare opportunity to share information with a wider audience that would otherwise not be exposed to archaeology. Of course, there is always a risk that reporters will not accurately convey, edit, or summarize the information an archaeologist provides, so in these situations archaeologists must take extra care to be clear and concise in their statements, and if possible, proofread the interview or statements to ensure that they are accurate.

Figure 12. Professional archaeologists participating in an artifact identification event, which is one way to disseminate archaeological information and knowledge. (Photo courtesy of the author.)

While sharing archaeological knowledge with the public is vital, it is important to understand that archaeologists also have a responsibility to not share sensitive information about archaeological sites that would make it possible for members of the public to loot, damage, or conduct their own investigations at those sites. For instance, when presenting to public audiences, archaeologists should not disclose site locations. They should also be sure to strip out any location information attached to or embedded within digital photos when posting them on social media platforms. In the past, I have had to specifically ask reporters not to share the exact location of archaeological sites, both for the sake of the landowner’s privacy and to ensure the safety and preservation of the site. While most people who hear such reports would not deliberately loot or perform illegal activities at a site, it is better to play it safe.

Conclusion

The primary goals of this chapter were to provide an overview of the archaeological process; help readers understand how archaeologists plan, conduct, and complete archaeological projects by following this process; and correct inaccurate and often romanticized views of archaeology by showing that archaeology is a process that is not just about performing fieldwork in exotic places. Knowledge of this process helps archaeologists plan ahead and react to the often fluid and unpredictable nature of archaeological projects. Such knowledge is also necessary for anyone who is interested in becoming a professional archaeologist. While not all projects require every step of this process and the order in which these steps are taken vary, some steps, such as curation and dissemination, are always part of any archaeological project. Perhaps the most important point is that each of these steps should be conducted in collaboration with communities, groups, and individuals who have historic ties to the sites and landscapes in question.

Discussion Questions

1. When should engagement and collaboration with descendant communities occur during the archaeological process? Why?
2. What is the most important step in the archaeological process? Why?
3. Which steps in the archaeological process are best known among the general public? How can a focus on these few steps lead to romanticized views of the field of archaeology among members of the public?
4. How might an understanding of the archaeological process help change incorrect, problematic, or pseudoarchaeological perspectives? Why?

About the Author

Jacob Skousen is an assistant research scientist with the Illinois State Archaeological Survey. He has been a professional archaeologist for nearly 15 years, and while most of this experience has been in the North American Midwest, he has archaeological experience in the North American Great Basin and Southwest, in Central America, and in the Middle East. His research focuses on the Mississippian period, the precontact city of Cahokia, pilgrimage, and identity formation. In the rare moments when he is not doing archaeology, Jacob enjoys being outside, taking walks, exercising, gardening, and playing the piano.