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.

Over the past few years our body politic has become increasingly polarized: Republicans versus Democrats, conservatives versus liberals. That polarization filters down to governmental actions, policies, and decisions, evidenced in disagreements over regulation versus deregulation and fossil fuels versus renewable energy. Such polarization—whether legislative, administrative, or judicial and whether at the federal, state, or tribal level—can and does impact the management of our archaeological resources and the way cultural resource management is practiced in the United States. Given that most archaeologists in the United States are employed in cultural resource management, these actions affect their employment. Consequently, it is more critical than ever that archaeologists become cultural resource management and historic preservation advocates. This article discusses the whys and hows of preservation advocacy. Active, science-based advocacy by preservationists can engage governmental decision-makers to give due consideration to cultural resources and their management when making decisions or drafting and voting on legislation. Although the discussion focuses on advocacy at the federal level, the observations and suggestions are applicable at the state and local level.

A quick search on antonyms for “creative” yields obvious results such as “uncreative,” “unimaginative,” and “uninspired,” but also terms such as “dull,” “derivative,” and “stodgy.” In the world of cultural resources and mitigation of adverse effects, “creative” is most often opposed to “standard.” That sounds like a good thing, right? Good old, reliable, dependable, predictable standard mitigation. But as we will see from the articles in this special issue, remarkable things can happen when those designing mitigation programs replace or augment “standard” approaches. What is it about a mitigation measure or program that leads us to term it “creative”? How can we expand those defining qualities of creative mitigation measures and programs to enhance the quality of standard mitigation approaches? How can we make the standard approaches, if not creative, at least not stodgy?

This paper argues that the early Republican attempts to reintegrate the Ottoman past into nationalist narratives later found their reflections in discussions regarding the preservation of İstanbul’s diverse heritage, coinciding with the redefinition of Turkish nationalism in the 1940s, incorporating Islam and marking a departure from the foundation ideology of the Republic of Turkey. In 1939, the Republican authorities decided to celebrate the 500th anniversary of the Ottoman conquest of Constantinople in 1953. The Commission for the Preservation of Antiquities (Muhafaza-ı Asar-ı Atika Encümeni)—the body responsible for the preservation of historic monuments in İstanbul—was tasked with conducting restoration and repair works for the celebrations. Although the celebrations did not receive much attention in the following years, the annual celebrations in the city have now become a significant aspect of present-day İstanbul, which glorify its Ottoman-Islamic past. By presenting its negotiations and contestations with other state actors in the context of these preparations, this paper explores the role of the Preservation Commission in appropriating the inherited remnants of İstanbul’s multifaceted past as “national monuments.”

While historians believe that preserving a historic building in its original location is important to maintain its historic integrity, the general public's opinion is unknown. Survey data were gathered from local residents regarding a proposed relocation of a historic mill in rural West Virginia. Only a minority of the sample population supported preserving the mill at its original location. Willingness to pay for preservation was estimated at $8.45 for a one-time donation for the sample and $2.29 after adjusting for non-respondents using characteristics of the local population.