From its inception, Archaeological dialogues has lived by the conviction that theoretical debate should be conducted not only on paper, but also at conferences and symposia. To this end, the Archaeological Dialogues Foundation has organized an annual symposium in the Netherlands on theoretical issues in archaeology since 1990 (Jongste 1994). With the international expansion of our readership and editorial board in recent years, we have been looking for new opportunities to stimulate face-to-face debate across geographical and theoretical boundaries.

In this paper I want to make some general comments on the state of archaeological theory today. I argue that a full answer to the question ‘does archaeological theory exist?’ must be simultaneously ‘yes’ and ‘no’. Yes, there is, demonstrably, a discourse called archaeological theory, with concrete structures such as individuals and schools of thought more or less substantively engaged with it; no, in that the claims for a distinctive way of thinking about the world in theoretical terms specific to archaeology, to which most or even the largest group of archaeologists would willingly or knowingly subscribe, are over-stated. In particular there is a lack of correspondence between theoretical backgrounds and affiliations that are overtly cited by archaeologists, on the one hand, and, on the other, the deeper underlying assumptions and traditions that structure their work and condition its acceptance. These underlying traditions stretch from field habits to underlying paradigms or discourses. I will explore this latter point with reference to the manner in which agency theory and phenomenology have been developed in archaeology. My conclusion suggests some elements of a way forward for archaeological theory; it is striking that many of these elements have been addressed in recent issues of Archaeological dialogues.

‘Has theoretical archaeology ever developed into archaeological theory?’ That was the question posed by Michael Dietler and Liv Nilsson Stutz, which the British Matthew Johnson has courageously agreed to answer. Before commenting on his answer and trying, in turn, to answer this question, I strongly recommend the non-British reader to look at the brief synthesis on British phenomenological archaeology written by Joanna Brück (2005). Coming from the innermost postprocessual circle of the Department of Archaeology of Cambridge University, Brück clarifies the issues and places them in perspective.

Matthew Johnson's essay is somewhat more conservative than I had anticipated and I am happy about that. He promotes a scientific archaeology in the sense that he promotes the kind of knowledge that can be established through verifiability. Then he takes what I see to be an increasingly frequent approach to the use of the phenomenological and hermeneutic position in archaeology. His positions are relatively gentle on these matters and are an attempt to seek out a way to utilize archaeology as a superior political tool when it is needed, as it most assuredly is, from place to place in the world. He remains attuned to the established fact that the definitions of many facts are themselves a function of political contexts. I am not sure yet that Matthew Johnson's brief essay succeeds with all the links he intends to make, but I think that a number of scholars are headed in this direction.

The point of departure for this debate (and the SAA forum) was the question ‘does archaeological theory exist?’ Matthew Johnson's answer is wisely mixed, but mostly negative. Archaeological theory does not exist, he tells us, because there is hardly any distinctive archaeological way of theoretical thinking ‘to which most or even the largest group of archaeologists would willingly or knowingly subscribe’ (p. 117). I shall not spend much time on Johnson's denial, which for several reasons may well be justified, just note that if we apply his rather rigorous consensual criterion to other disciplines, we would probably be searching in vain also for any sociological, economic or even philosophical theory – which Johnson still seems quite convinced do exist.

I am in general agreement with Professor Johnson's main points. To his and the editor's question, ‘is there archaeological theory?’, His answer is ‘yes and no’. This ambiguous but accurate answer can be divided variously. The first category would be archaeological theory per se, which would encompass the work and thought from that of Nicholas Steno in the 17th century to that of Michael Schiffer (2002) today. It would be about the natural transformations of ‘deposits’. Next there would be theories about the transformation of natural materials into the more or less durable remains that comprise archaeological ‘data’ – the stuff of everyday lives. Again, work of Michael Schiffer (2001) and Daniel Miller (1998) comes to mind. They and a long list of contemporary archaeologists deploy theory on behalf of the understanding of the creation of things that build the human habitat. Broader use of theory comes with the deployment of frameworks from demography to demonology and ecology to ethics that are used to structure historical and anthropological questions that might be answered with archaeological remains. Each selection of a theoretical position entails one or another metaphysical commitment about what comprises ‘data’ and ‘evidence’ and what constitutes a proper explanation. In this regard Professor Johnson asks, does archaeology indiscriminately adopt and apply various philosophical positions without proper regard for their extent, implications and conditions for application? His answer is yes, certainly, and to our disadvantage. As Christopher Chippindale and I have noted on several occasions, archaeology treats philosophical traditions a bit like a Chinese menu or perhaps the contents of a supermarket: the archaeologist takes one from column A and another from column B, and a whole bunch of stuff from the dairy aisle and more from the fruits and vegetables section. Not only is this not kosher – one does not mix dairy and Derrida – but the selections are radically contradictory and sometimes even incoherent.

I agree with the thrust of Matthew Johnson's paper; in particular, I concur with his conclusion that there is archaeological theory, but not a ‘distinctive way of thinking about the world in theoretical terms specific to archaeology’ (p. 117). As Johnson argues, I believe we currently have multiple theories of archaeology and all of these overlap with other disciplines. During a six-year period of administrative service at the University of Virginia in which it was necessary to venture outside the literature that I typically read and review the publications of faculty from a variety of departments as part of promotion and tenure decisions, I was initially often surprised by, and later reminded of, the degree of theoretical commonalities between archaeology and other disciplines that Johnson has highlighted.

Matthew Johnson's engaging paper raises a number of critical issues for contemporary archaeological reflection. The paper takes as a given the existence of archaeological theory as a disciplinary tradition of scholarly engagement, as a social fact of the vita archaeologica. But Johnson resists, rightly I think, the temptation to define ‘the archaeological’ intellectually, in reference to a discrete analytical terrain over which archaeology holds sovereignty. As a result, a considerable weight is put upon what we might think of as the sociology of theoretical work – concrete practices of theoretical production and reproduction located within institutions such as the university and the department. While Matthew's paper largely focuses on the gaps within the current constellatory field between the ethos of archaeological training and the pathos that drives our theoretical agenda, in these brief remarks I want to suggest a more undisciplined sense of archaeological theory, one rooted less in the field itself and more in a historically and socially shifting understanding of the pastness of the object world.

Suggesting that archaeological theory both exists and does not at the same time is a wise move, so long as it opens the possibility for a range of answers and dialogue. In that respect I find myself in an agreement with Johnson, given that he takes up a piece of the theoretical minefield, and leaves plenty for others to engage with. Rather than debate his argument per se, therefore, I will endeavour to enlarge his essay in ways that will both contrast my position with his and further a greater conversation.

First, a qualifier: the ‘response-to-the-response’ section of Archaeological dialogues is often the most entertaining part of the issue, but frequently the least intellectually rewarding. One feels Schadenfreude, partisan cheering and jeering, and bafflement in equal measure as contributors lock horns over this or that finer point of who has misrepresented whom. I am anxious to avoid readers reacting to what follows in such a manner, and so will concentrate on a very selective range of raised points that, to put it crudely, got me thinking.

Current trends in historical archaeology emphasize the centrality of capitalism and colonial discourse in examining commonalities in the archaeologies of fictive worlds such as the British Atlantic. Yet far from informing archaeological practice, overly simplistic incorporation of postcolonial and neo-Marxian approaches in comparative archaeologies can actually impede our ability to disentangle the complexities of the early modern colonial experience in a socially relevant fashion. While the disparate colonial settlements of the Atlantic share a recognizable material culture as physical testament to the overarching impact of European expansion, contemporary implications and memories of colonial entanglements vary wildly. A critical consideration of the role of overtly theoretical approaches in developing a nuanced archaeology of the early modern period in the north of Ireland, where the construction of present-day identities is firmly rooted in dichotomous understandings of the impact of British expansion in the 16th and 17th centuries, raises broader questions about our responsibilities in addressing conflict and in redressing the disjuncture between espousing and practising theoretically informed archaeology.

On a first reading of this paper, I thought Audrey Horning might have crossed wires and contradicted herself. Is the weakness of much historical archaeology its deficit in theory-building, or is it, in contrast, a reluctance to emerge from theoretical analysis into a locally focused public archaeology which engages with contemporary political debates?

Few observers could argue with the proposition that archaeology has dramatically changed in the past couple of decades. Perhaps tacitly or even unknowingly adopting one of the central tenets of critical archaeology, archaeologists everywhere have learned to expand their audiences and to consider the contemporary meanings of their interpretations. Members of descendant communities and other stakeholders now commonly demand a role in the retelling of history. The 1930s view of ‘every man [sic] the historian’ has become ‘every person the archaeological interpreter’. Archaeology is no longer the sole purview of the ivory tower and the detached, absent-minded archaeologist. The days of sitting quietly in a well-appointed laboratory measuring potshards are largely gone. Only the best-funded, venerable of practitioners has this luxury today.

Audrey Horning has a lot to say about the abuses of overarching theory in archaeology. Her most cogent critiques, directed at the rather careless application of postcolonial theory to the archaeology of Northern Ireland and the failure of that theoretical model to deal effectively with the complex and fragmented identities of this continually embattled society, spoke powerfully to my own experience. The intellectual currency of colonialism and postcolonialism is becoming as rapidly devalued as that of domination and resistance. This is not to say these concepts have no merit – only that they suffer from overuse and a persistent lack of nuanced examination.

Dr Horning's paper touches issues of fundamental importance both to contemporary Ireland as a place of historically rooted cultural contestation and to the discipline of historical archaeology in Ireland. It has a core message: archaeologists can blunt some of those sharp edges of cultural-political division that originated in Plantation-era settlement by revealing how historical sites that seem on the surface to belong on one or other aggrieved side in the island's history are susceptible to more nuanced, and arguably more legitimate, interpretations.

In 1999 the Irish Post-Medieval Archaeology Group (IPMAG) was established by a diverse group of Northern Ireland archaeologists and heritage professionals, drawn from the commercial, government, museum and university sectors. The aims of the organization, discussed at length at the group's inaugural conference held in Belfast in February of 2001, include (one) undertaking initiatives to raise the profile of post-medieval archaeology within the whole of Ireland, (two) fostering greater contacts between those individuals engaged in researching the archaeology, history and culture of post-1550 Ireland and (three) lobbying for increased academic attention to be paid to the period within Irish universities. That the organization has made progress in approaching these aims is clear, as acknowledged by Tadhg O'Keeffe: ‘the archaeological study of the “historical” (post-fifteenth-century) past is now a big deal in Ireland’. IPMAG conferences have been held in conjunction with academic institutions (Queen's University, Belfast, 2001; Trinity College, Dublin, 2002; University of Ulster, 2004; University College, Cork, 2006), public institutions (Ulster Museum, 2003), and commercial archaeology companies (Aegis Archaeology, Ltd, Limerick, 2005).

This paper discusses the relationship between art, perception and human engagement with the environment in Minoan Crete through the depiction of landscapes and the ‘natural world’ in art. It is argued that the conventional approaches to Minoan ‘nature scenes’, based on the representation and expression theories of art, are overshadowed by modernist assumptions about art and human–environment relations. The paper then proceeds to discuss the workings of visual perception and the dynamics of human–environment systems. On that basis, the nature of human–environment relations in Minoan Crete is reconsidered and an ‘ecological’ approach to ancient art explored. A tentative suggestion is made that Minoan nature scenes might be understood as instruments for perceiving and knowing the environment, and some broader implications of the ecological perspective for the interpretation of the archaeological record of Minoan Crete are indicated.