SAVING THE PAST FOR OURSELVES: THE SOCIETY FOR AMERICAN ARCHAEOLOGY TAOS ANTI-LOOTING CONFERENCE

W. James Judge

Introduction

There are two basic goals of this article. One is to present a brief overview of the Taos Conference and its results, and the other is to examine where those results might lead us in the future.

The Taos Anti-Looting Conference was sponsored by the Society for American Archaeology (SAA), and held at the Fort Burgwin Research Center, near Taos, New Mexico, May 7 -12, 1989. It was attended by 72 people representing a wide variety of disciplines, all in some way related to the field of archaeology or historic preservation. Most (70%) of those attending were federal employees.

In organizing the conference, the looting and vandalism problem was divided into three segments--understanding, preventing, and combating--and a workshop was devoted to each of these segments during the week-long session.

Three chairpersons, each experts in their field, were selected to lead the workshops; Chris Christensen, Sherry Lerner, and Martin McAllister. Prior to the conference, each chair was asked to define a number of key issues relevant to their respective workshop topics. These issues were then distributed to the participants so they could come to the conference prepared to discuss them.

The Conference

Once at the Fort Burgwin Research Center in Taos, participants worked intensively on discussing the issues and developing recommended courses of action. Following the conference, issues and recommendations were circulated to the participants for review, and then compiled by the workshop chairs. Some 50 issues resulted in 237 recommendations, which Bliss Bruen and I summarized in a report to the SAA. Leslie Wildesen later compiled the issues and edited the recommendations into a Final Report (Actions for the 90's) that was released at the 1990 SAA annual meetings in Las Vegas.

To put the results in perspective, I think it important to review the purpose of the Taos Conference, intimately related to the goals of the larger Anti-Looting Project (see Reinburg this volume) of which it was a part. The Project itself was prompted by a growing awareness of the rapid increase in looting and vandalism of sites in this country, and its goals were simply to understand why such activities occur, and determine ways to reduce them. Within this framework, the Conference attempted to examine in detail the underlying causes of looting, to search for ways of preventing it in the future, and to seek better means of curtailing it now. In my view, we were successful in addressing the three issues, although each of us who attended the Conference has his or her own perception of that success. The following summary may be tempered by more pessimism than others would allow.

First, there is a need for much more data on looting and vandalism; we simply cannot understand the problem fully based on the information currently available to us. Second, we need to spend more money on public education and law enforcement. We need more personnel involved in each, we need to train them better, and we need more programs. Third, and most important in my view, we need a major paradigm shift in American archaeology, in which we consciously and systematically engage the public to join us in the challenge of defending the past. Engaging the public as partners in our discipline must become a fully integrated, even honored, component of our professional lives (see Chapter 4 this volume for articles on public involvement in archaeology).

It would be nice if twenty years from now we were able to say that archaeological site looting and vandalism was reduced to a minimum. But what is the most effective way to achieve that goal? Do we need more brochures, more workshops, more training, more law enforcement, more legislation, more T-shirts, or all of these? In 1972 our colleague Bob McGimsey issued a clarion call to action in the form of his book Public Archeology (see McGimsey this volume). "Archeologists . . . cannot expect others to preserve the nation's heritage if we, who . . . are best qualified in the field, do not assume a role of positive leadership and public education" (1972:4). I would certainly not belittle McGimsey's effort, which was exemplary and remains so today, but looting and vandalism have not abated in the last 20 years. So what is the answer? How can we be more effective? How can we actually implement the results of the Taos Conference? Let us return again briefly to the issues.

First, the solution to the issue of combating the problem is fairly clear-cut . . . We need more law enforcement and more enlightened judges, and probably always will. I am not dismissing this as a trivial issue, but it is one which can be solved with better technology and more money (not necessarily more legislation). The solutions to the other two workshop issues are less transparent. To understand the problem we need more basic research into the social and economic causes underlying looting and vandalism. Neither the magnitude nor the dimensions of the problem are clearly understood, nor are its true effects on the research and interpretive potential of the archaeological record. Some might argue with this view, holding that the magnitude is great and the effects are devastating, but I am referring here to more precise, refined knowledge. What kinds of sites are looted, and what time periods are favored? Of the sites looted, what percentage has been destroyed and what kinds of features are targeted? What things are left behind, and what are ignored? And more importantly, how, precisely, does this destruction actually jeopardize the research and interpretive potential of the archaeological data base (see Nickens this volume for a discussion of the destruction of archaeological site data)? Which research interests are affected and which are not? What are the values of the looters, and how do they compare with those of the archaeologist? One individual in southeast Utah stated that although he felt right about looting trash mounds for burial goods, he would never destroy a wall. For him architectural features are sacred, trash mounds are not. We need much more information on the fundamental motivations and value systems of those who loot for profit, as well as the more casual vandal.

On the surface, a feasible approach to preventing the problem seems to be fairly clear-cut . . . simply educate the public in a manner yet undefined, but somewhat akin to Smokey the Bear, and looting will decrease to a minimum. Yet we need to do more than simply say we will spend more money to educate the public. We must develop a comprehensive and systematic plan, as our colleague Brian Fagan reminded us of during the 1989 SAA meetings. The recently formed Public Education committee is an excellent start, but it should be part of a broader, more inclusive plan, with specific goals. My perception is that this vital component of the anti-looting effort is currently missing, and I would urge the SAA, in partnership with the relevant state and federal agencies, to initiate such a plan. Without a plan which prioritizes the multitude of recommendations emerging from the Conference, and sets out means of implementing them, 20 years from now people will still remain confused about why they should not loot. Without the why, the effort will be largely ineffective.

Assuming effective implementation of the Taos Conference recommendations, how will the success of the anti-looting project be measured in the long run--by the number of buttons sold, or by the degree of change of our own professional attitudes and values? T-shirts and other marketable objects are very effective stage-setters--they grab the public's attention. But once we have their attention, do we really have something of substance to say to them? Let's not lose the opportunity by not having a message ready. To give them something of substance, we might begin by examining our own archaeological value system, again as Fagan counsels us. Right now this value system holds that we must preserve the archaeological record because the sites contain an "invaluable wealth of scientific information." But the only reason they contain the wealth is because we, the archaeologists, define it as such. Does not this constitute archaeological self-perpetuation . . . in effect, saving sites because they are there? Leaving the power to define that "wealth of scientific information" solely in the hands of a small community of scholars whose careers depend on it is not justifiable. Biologists go to great lengths to explain the horror of species extinction by reference to the need to preserve genetic diversity. We are obliged to do no less. We need to preserve our dwindling data base, but equally, we need to comprehend why it is important to others that we do so. Unquestioned loyalty to our cause may result in unsubstantiated loyalty to our cause.

Biologists do not try to save the snail darter because it is there, or a rainforest because the canopy is pretty and holds secrets we do not understand, or a riparian habitat because it is someone's esoteric research project. Instead they seek reasons all can understand and are equally affected by, such as the need to reduce atmospheric CO2, the need to preserve habitat and thus genetic diversity, and then they publicize those reasons. Biologists arm their defense with relevant, concrete data, understandable to the public. I am not sure we do the same.

We need to put the creative forces, which normally drive our research, to work on the issue of transmitting our messages to others. Yet we do not always recognize or agree on what those messages could or should be. At a recent dissertation defense I attended, a respected colleague suggested that we turn the discussion from "methodological issues to questions of substance." This dismissal of archaeological method obscures its intrinsic value and educational potential. In fact, from the public's perspective, questions of method may well be archaeology's issues of genuine substance. People are fascinated by the means we use to extract information from the unwritten record. This may be our real gift, that which we can pass on to benefit others most. Were we to arm every man, woman and child with our powers of observation and interpretation, we would indeed leave a formidable legacy, that of a truly ethical and valuable intellectual process.

Most archaeologists would have us offer something more than method, however, and would turn instead to our quest to explain human behavior or understand cultural process. Yet it is not clear to the layman why archaeologists, rather than historians or cultural anthropologists, have been chosen to forge an attempt to understand human behavior. A review of the literature reveals that this basic topic of archaeological relevance is studiously avoided by our colleagues. Either archaeologists do not know, or do not want to know, if what they do is important to anyone else. Should not we at least question that what we spend 60 million dollars per year doing is perceived as important to the taxpayer?

At the most fundamental level, one finds it extremely difficult for professional archaeologists, trained in the modern paradigm, to answer the question "Why archaeology?" in a manner acceptable to the layman. In his excellent introductory text, S. J. Knudson provides a nice analogy of what it is like to do archaeology; putting together a large jigsaw puzzle without a picture, and with half the pieces missing (Knudson 1978:3). Yet we still wonder why is it so important to put the puzzle together, and for that matter, who the puzzle is for? I do not believe archaeologists are making conscientious efforts to address such issues.

Another colleague, Joe Tainter, suggests that we "interest the public in what we do, rather than doing what we think the public will find interesting. The challenge is to make certain that the archaeology each of us practices is linked clearly to broader goals of understanding human society and history. Too often our specialized studies seem to lose sight of the broader goals of the discipline, and that is where archaeology becomes vulnerable to misunderstanding" (personal communication:1988). I agree fully with Joe, yet I am not sure how many others do. According to the Member Survey reported in the SAA Bulletin, the members did not particularly want to encourage membership by avocational archaeologists, nor did they want a general interest magazine published by the SAA, nor would they themselves be willing to fund a public information program (Roveland 1988:3).

It would seem very important, if not crucial, that the public become informed. A recent article in American Scientist (Hively 1988:439-444) discussed the issue of scientific literacy within the American populace. "The middleaged adults of the year 2010 are already in high school. Unless they are locked up until they learn more science, about 95% will be scientifically illiterate." Will this be a problem? Hively quotes Jon Miller, of the Public Opinion Laboratory, "Public indifference has limits. The 'non-attentive' do not determine policy, but sometimes they exercise a veto. They are, after all, a majority" (1988:444).

Right now we archaeologists are dealing with an interested and highly tolerant public. Unless we address that interest directly, though, they can become highly intolerant of our activities. If the expenditure of public funds on archaeology impinges on the public's pocketbook in ways they perceive as unjustifiable, they will perceive we are doing archaeology only for ourselves, and the ultimate veto will be exercised by those who, through no fault of their own, are archaeologically illiterate.

Conclusion

If archaeology is to avoid the veto, it must become relevant in the eyes of those who do not understand it, yet continue to pay for it. In what context, and at what level, should this relevance be expressed? I offer the following quote for consideration; "Modern civilization, more than any which has gone before, is living visibly and dangerously beyond its means. The power and knowledge at our disposal are being used as never before, to drain the treasures of the past and borrow from the future. We are flowering for the sake of the immediate present, and at an accelerated speed . . . The past, so dark, dim, and different can be forgotten; the future will take care of itself" (Sears 1971:19). A very timely observation, this plea for recognition of the value of the past was issued over 50 years ago by Paul Sears, one of the most literate and socially responsible ecologists of our times.

I suggest we define and adhere to issues of global concern (see Messenger and Enloe this volume for a discussion of archaeologists as global educators). Science and scientists should feel morally and ethically obligated to rationalize their work by addressing globally relevant issues, and archaeologists should not be exempt. Thus if the future of humanity depends on the achievement of global sustainable growth, archaeologists should provide examples of such growth from the past and demonstrate what life was like under sustainable conditions (in balance with the available resources), and what happened when a path was chosen that no longer allowed the balance to be sustained.

Perhaps, then, the most relevant aspect of archaeology as a science lies not in its ability to discover laws or offer multivariate explanations of human behavior, but instead in its potential to raise the level of awareness of the public to the value of knowing and appreciating the diversity of the past, and more importantly, realizing the adaptive advantage of that knowledge. The richness of a culture is measured by its diversity, and the success of a culture is engendered accordingly by that richness. Documentation of the diversity through archaeological research is the mechanism of achieving this. It keeps it culturally alive, even nourishes it.

In a book about forests written 20 years ago, Richard Ketchum noted that, "for most of human history, man's involvement with nature was both intimate and complete. The primitive's wisdom was his accumulated knowledge about the environment of which he was a part; his skills were techniques of adapting to the natural surroundings. Only in fairly recent times has man removed himself from the partnership nature requires, ignoring its incalculable blessings and forgetting the terrors it can hold"(1970:7).

It is that accumulated knowledge of the environment which is important for us to maintain as the modern world tears us further and further from intimate contact with it. Preserving the diversity of cultures, past and present, and informing the public, our constituency, about it, will allow the transformation of that cumulative store of knowledge into a collective wisdom of incalculable value to future generations. In this manner, archaeology becomes both globally and immediately relevant, and following public perception of this relevance, looting and vandalism of our sites will become a more manageable problem.

References Cited

Hively, W. (1988) Science Observer: A Special Report on Scientific Literacy. American Scientist 76:5:439-444.

Ketchum, R. M (1970) The Secret Life of the Forest. American Heritage Press, N.Y.

Knudson, S. J. (1978) Culture in Retrospect. Rand McNally College Publishing Co., Chicago.

McGimsey, C. R., III (1972) Public Archeology. Seminar Press, N.Y.

Roveland, B. E. (1988) Looking Forward: The Society and Its Future. Bulletin ofthe Society for American Archaeology 6:5.

Sears, P. B. (1971) This is our World. University of Oklahoma Press, Norman.

Society for American Archaeology, (1990) Save the Past for the Future: Actions for the 90's. Society for American Archaeology, Office of Governmental Relations, Washington, D.C.

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