The experimental replication of lithic artifacts occasionally encounters issues of standardization and control. Two major issues are how to accurately create a large sample population and how to sample from specific stages over the flaking process. Knappable stone is unpredictable due to inclusions, cracks, and differences in size, texture, and fracture toughness. While this aspect of stone is critical to understanding some aspects of human behavior, decision-making, and skill assessment, in some experimental studies it may hinder other areas. Research for a large study assessing the failure of Folsom preforms during the fluting stage required many knappable facsimiles. The process outlined here uses porcelain as a medium for tackling these requirements. The new method presented here illustrates how a 3-D scanner and printer can be used to record and produce a copy of the artifact form. It then describes how to create a plaster mold of the printed artifact form and, finally, how to cast and fire the artifact replica in porcelain.

Archaeologists studying shell assemblages from prehistoric sites along the Pacific coast of North America have been interested in the influences of collecting intensity and environmental variability on California mussel (Mytilus californianus) size. To determine the variation in mussel size within a shell assemblage, researchers have developed a variety of proxies of mussel valve length based on measurements of morphological features occurring at or near the valve’s umbo. We propose four additional measurements that can serve as proxies and evaluate their correlation with valve length using regression analysis. Of the four, anterior adductor scar length has the strongest correlation, and we present two examples of its application. We also evaluate a popular visual technique based on a set of outline drawings of valves of varying lengths, and we found that it systematically underestimated valve length but could be useful under certain circumstances. We conclude that the selection of a particular proxy of mussel valve length depends on the nature of the mussel shell assemblage being studied and the research context.

Today, there is a growing movement to use accumulated archaeological information to contribute to discussions of general issues facing human societies, including our own. In this regard, the archaeological record is most unique and helpful when viewed at broad comparative scales. Most relevant data for these sorts of analyses are collected through the cultural resource management (CRM) process. Still, by and large, interpretation remains limited to individual projects, and data integration across projects is nearly nonexistent. What would it take for CRM to achieve real data integration? In this article, we discuss these issues and suggest one potential solution. The most pressing need we identify is for data products that integrate the primary data emanating from CRM at broad spatial and temporal scales, which are suitable for research by archaeologists and other social scientists. We argue that the time is right for the discipline to invest in organizations that produce such products.

Wilderness medicine classes are widely available to archaeologists and field scientists, but because wilderness medicine is an unregulated field, knowing what the various courses and products mean can be difficult. Based on the education chapter in the recently published textbook Wilderness EMS, this article—written by same two authors as the book—explores a number of topics relevant for the field scientist, program director, or administrator seeking to obtain wilderness medicine training for archaeologists. The article first explores the history of wilderness medicine products and certificates available to interested parties. It then differentiates between the various products available today along with their benefits and limitations for the end user. Products and trainings described include certifications (including Wilderness First Aid [WFA], Wilderness Advanced First Aid [WAFA], Advanced Wilderness First Aid [AWFA], and Wilderness First Responder [WFR]), as well as single use or continuing education trainings (including Stop the Bleed, CPR, conference courses, and field schools). Particular attention is paid to the specific and actionable needs of a field scientist in remote areas.

Ground-penetrating radar (GPR) has become a common method for mapping archaeological sites in the American Southwest. A less tested use for this method is to survey architectural spaces within larger pueblos to map features that may relate to the function, use, and abandonment of a specific room. In Chaco Canyon, GPR was used in a room (Room 28) within Pueblo Bonito prior to excavation to determine the presence and depth of buried features. Comparison with excavation results provides a means to evaluate how well this method mapped features in this small space. Three categories of features within this room, posts/postholes, entryways, and burned materials, were successfully identified in the GPR maps. By comparing this GPR survey with the subsequent excavation, we determined how GPR reflected these architectural features, allowing us to develop a set of expectations for using this method to identify similar features in other interior pueblo rooms.

This article introduces the first of what will ultimately be two collections of case studies in archaeologist–responsible/responsive artifact collector collaboration. Focused on the United States, the articles in this issue of Advances in Archaeological Practice share the thoughts and experiences of archaeologists representing diverse employment sectors (compliance, agency, museum, and university), artifact collectors, and members of descendant communities. Research areas extend from California to Virginia and from Ohio to the Texas/Mexico border. The breadth of the writers' backgrounds and their focal regions reinforce the wide applicability of collaborative best practices. Every author explicitly treats two subjects: (1) the intersection of their work with the Society for American Archaeology's (SAA) recently published guidelines for ethical professional–collector collaboration, and (2) their own practical suggestions for establishing and nurturing those relationships. This introductory article provides an overview of each of the other contributions, notes how the contributions articulate with the SAA guidelines, and offers its own, mostly philosophical suggestions for prospective members of professional–collector collaborations.

Video games are unparalleled as an interactive medium and can serve as potential educational tools through intelligent game design and the players’ immersion in the game world (e.g., Mayo 2009; Rassalle 2021; Rubio-Campillo 2020; Winter 2021). At the same time, video games, like any media, might also misinform (e.g., Aron 2020; Dennis 2019; Emery and Reinhard 2016). In this review, I present my impressions of the game Ancestors: A Humankind Odyssey (Panache Digital Games 2019), specifically regarding its portrayal of paleoanthropological themes. In preparing this review, I played the game in its entirety and subsequently interviewed the developers in order to clarify their intentions when designing the game (Patrice Désilets and Marc-André De Blois, personal communication 2021). Using the medium of video games, is it possible to make a “perfectly” accurate simulation of human evolution? Perhaps, but that may not matter anyway. In my view, video games, as exemplified by Ancestors, have great potential for exploring the basic components of human evolution and to reach and inspire a wider public that might otherwise learn very little about the subject matter.

To know where we are going, we need to know where we have been, so it seems only fitting that, to produce a special issue on designing and assessing public education programs in archaeology, we need to look back to the establishment of public outreach and archaeological education in the United States and, specifically, within the Society for American Archaeology. Archaeological education, as a subfield of archaeology, can trace its roots to individual efforts at sharing archaeology with the public, but especially to the first Save the Past for the Future Conference in Taos, New Mexico. It was here that the idea took root that, to stem vandalism and looting, we need to educate people about archaeology. This meeting was the springboard for federal initiatives like Project Archaeology and Passport in Time, and it was also the birthplace for the SAA Public Education Committee. For more than 25 years, archaeologists have been creating public outreach programs, students have graduated college thinking of public outreach as a career path, and TV shows have sensationalized our profession, but what do we really know about what we’ve done, whether we’ve made a difference, and how it can propel ourselves and future generations of archaeological educators forward?

The majority of terrestrial scanning projects in archaeology have focused on heritage documentation, preservation, and the three-dimensional (3D) reconstruction of prominent sites and objects. While these are very important archaeological foci, not many have used terrestrial scanning methods for prospection and feature analysis, similar to the way many have employed airborne LiDAR. While airborne LiDAR scanning is able to situate and analyze archaeological sites on an expansive scale, the ground-based method also captures and defines any landscape anomalies or depressions from cultural features that have remained invisible to the naked eye due to environmental restrictions. In an attempt to test this recording method, we set out to paint a non-invasive, 3D digitized picture of the ancient Maya site of Pacbitun, Belize, using terrestrial scanning to distinctly detail Pacbitun’s structures, plazas, causeways, and karst features. This paper details the process through which 3D terrestrial scanning was executed at Pacbitun and three associated peripheral caves during the 2012 and 2013 field seasons. We discuss the potential laser scanning has for visual analysis in archaeology and evaluate application difficulties encountered in the field, as well as current data interpretation issues.

The introduction of the smartphone into the private and professional lives of humans has provided a channel to real-time and place-specific information that can enhance (and disturb) day-to-day living. Given such impact, many museums and archaeological exhibitions have chosen to develop digital applications to enhance the visitor experience via accompanying the visitor through the exhibitions. Yet after a decade, these applications still seem understudied and, in practice, very undeveloped. This review aims to shed some light on the possibilities and shortcomings of museum apps. I discuss and critically evaluate the technical efficiency, practical utility, and user experience of the British Museum Guide (Museums Guide Ltd.) and My Visit to the Louvre (Musée du Louvre) applications. These two mobile apps represent the contemporary standard for museum apps, thereby allowing me to generalize about this genre of digital media.

This article discusses the effectiveness of Mexico’s national heritage business model within a context of economic growth, infrastructure development, and structural shifts that pose risks to the preservation of heritage resources. To meet these challenges, the future heritage professional requires a training profile that most archaeology departments in Mexico are unable to accommodate. Recognizing the importance of cultural resources management (CRM) and heritage business and marketing skills, the BA program in Development and Intercultural Management, offered at the Universidad Nacional Autónoma de México, is exploring new ways to create business models to finance heritage preservation. In an emergent economy, many students lack the opportunity to pursue higher education degrees, joining the labor market at a very early stage in their careers, without much knowledge of how to make heritage a lever for economic growth. Thus, a goal of this article is to encourage the early teaching of business and marketing in programs around the world by demonstrating how such training opportunities are opening up unimaginable career avenues for the future heritage professional in Mexico.

Quantitative analyses of how the past and archaeological professionals are being depicted in, for example, exhibitions and popular books offer valuable—and sometimes confronting—insights about how presentation practices continue to reflect gender stereotypes. It turns out that very often archaeology and the archaeological past are still almost exclusively associated with males and masculine activities. This, of course, distorts the truth about what actually happened in past societies. It also raises the questions of whether or not such biases have an influence on public participation in archaeology and if they may hinder the sector's ambition to foster inclusivity. In this article, we will share some of the preliminary results of an ongoing systematic evaluation of presentation practice in Dutch archaeology and on the public perception of gender stereotypes in the past.

The issue of pesticide-contaminated archaeological collections has generated concern among staff in collecting institutions. Pesticides have long been used, but the awareness of their unseen persistence and their potential as a human health hazard is a new aspect of preventive conservation. Background information and guidelines for developing a pesticide history are provided for repositories, museums, cultural resource management companies in the private and public sectors, academia, and other public collections.

With an ever-growing range of computational tools and applications now available for archaeological practice, the potential of digital archaeology is greater than ever before. Yet, archaeological curricula have not always followed suit, and many archaeologists are not up-to-date with the necessary digital skills. To fill this gap, online tutorials and learning platforms are being developed to familiarize archaeologists and students with the potential of digital media for archaeological research practices. Given the essential pedagogical role of these platforms, their quality is deserving of deeper interrogation. Here, I review three major platforms offering tutorials on digital archaeology: the Programming Historian, Project MERCURY-SIMREC, and the Open Digital Archaeology Textbook. These are evaluated and compared based on their goals, design (intuitiveness, ease of use), accessibility (use of jargon, required prerequisite knowledge, software requirements), scope (target audience, range of skills addressed, targeted level of improvement), and efficiency (whether or not they achieve their intended goals). The review concludes with a road map contextualizing the current state of available resources in light of the wider state of digital archaeology, and it considers pathways toward future development.

There has been—and continues to be—tension between Native peoples and museums in the United States due to past collecting practices and exhibitions that strive to interpret their culture and history without their involvement. Previously, many of these exhibitions stereotyped and lumped Native peoples together, depicting their cultures as static and interpreting them and their material culture from a Western scientific perspective. Changes are being made. Collaboration between Native peoples and museums in all areas of museum work, including exhibitions, is beginning to be considered by many as a best practice. Exhibitions developed in collaboration with Native peoples, with shared curatorial authority, decidedly help ease the historic tension between the two, and they are much more vibrant and accurate than when collaboration is lacking. This article will provide three examples of collaboration, defined with our tribal partners, to develop exhibitions at History Colorado, the state history museum, concluding with lessons learned.

Past researchers have identified individual styles of painting in Mimbres Black-on-white bowls, leading Steven LeBlanc to recently call for the development of quantitative methods to enable and assess such identifications. We propose such a methodology here. Through a process of pair-wise, micro-stylistic comparisons, bowls painted by a single artist or group of closely cooperating artists are analytically linked in chain-like fashion. Two bowls are attributed to the “same hands” if their similarity measure is at or above 70 percent. Similarity measures are determined by comparing minute details that reflect artistic decisions. The method takes into account diachronic development of artistic skill, subject matter diversity, and the transfer of style across generations. Results can contribute to an understanding of stylistic development, craft specialization, and the role of artists in traditional societies.

Financial institutions typically avoid projects that will have a significant adverse effect on cultural heritage because it creates unwelcome risk and can affect their reputation. For bank clients, adverse project effects on cultural heritage can result in reputation risk, impede access to finance and insurance, increase operational costs, and jeopardize on-time and on-budget delivery of projects. To address this risk, financial institutions implement environmental and social policy frameworks that include specific requirements for the consideration of cultural heritage. This article examines the place of cultural heritage in the lending practices of 25 of the world's largest private-sector banks and its relevance for heritage practitioners who may be retained to provide advice, review or undertake fieldwork, and prepare studies in keeping with the private-sector bank policies and external standards described. The article concludes with a recommended best practice for private-sector financial institutions, a call to action for heritage practitioners to advocate for robust safeguards, and a call for support of the UN's Sustainable Development Goals by both heritage practitioners and private-sector financial institutions.

Increasingly, high-precision GPS/GNSS (global positioning system/global satellite navigation system) based real-time-kinematic methods are being used in the mapping of archaeological sites. However, when utilizing high-precision satellite-based methods for archaeological location purposes, there is a significant but usually unanticipated problem that must first be addressed if accurate measurements are to be made. Simply put, unless proper correction methods are used, horizontal distances between two locations determined by the GNSS method will differ from the measurements that are made by traditional survey methods. This difference between the two measurements is often referred to as the grid-to-ground problem. This article provides a process to address this problem.

From a perusal of archaeological and museum journals it is apparent that there is a rich literature dealing with topics such as the place of museums and repositories in anthropological research, engagement with indigenous/descendant populations by archaeologists working in a variety of settings (including collections-based research), and research centered on the study of existing archaeological collections. Despite this rich literature, however, the archaeological researcher who wishes to use collections in archives, museums, or repositories for the first time is often perplexed by how to gain access to collections, how to communicate with archive/museum/repository professionals, the constraints that archive/museum/repository professionals work under, and—at an even more basic level—what the difference between an archive, a museum, and a repository actually is. This article addresses some of these questions and provides a practical guide to opening up the vast research opportunities presented by existing collections.

In this essay, we examine the potentials and challenges of mobile computing for a core activity of archaeological laboratory research—the typological analysis of ceramics. We discuss the collaborative development, implementation, and evaluation of the PAZC Ceramics module in the FAIMS Mobile platform. Our deployment of the module yielded significant improvements in the efficiency of data collection, as well as reduced numbers of missing fields and higher user satisfaction scores. However, it did not improve data consistency between users and yielded a classificatory system that was somewhat more challenging to update than our previous mode of operation. These results underscore some of the trade-offs that may be entailed in employing mobile technologies for archaeological applications and highlight the ways in which specific media configurations impact the production of archaeological knowledge.