Digital Data Collection, Storage, and Future Use: recognizing the resources required to preserve digital data

 

    Collecting archaeological data digitally, assuming the person doing so are competent with the technology, allows archaeologists to manage (record, store, search, and manipulate) data both efficiently and effectively. Using a GPS mobile mapper or UAV technology to map a site, for example, can provide an accurate and detailed record of where sites, features, and artifacts are in relation to each other and where they are located in space. Using these technologies to map sites compared to the traditional methods of using hand drawn maps and a compass has made site map making easier and more reliable. This is one simple example, but the possibilities of efficient data collection and management using digital tools are vast and exciting. However, I think that many users of these fieldwork improving technologies are amazed at the capabilities and promise of them but neglect to consider the work it takes to ensure the continued recollection and use of the data and the maintenance required for it. Early in the development of the field of digital archaeology, Ross and Gow (1992) did in fact explore this topic. They comprehensively examined and outlined the work required in ensuring data remains digitally accessible and relevant. The authors discuss the issues of technological obsolescence, physical damage and use wear of hardware, incompatibilities between newer and older software and hardware, and other threats to data. Machines need to be physically maintained; cleaning, software updating, special storage needs (e.g., humidity-controlled rooms), and specialists in specific technologies (especially of obsolete technologies) are required. What happens if a fire or natural disaster wipes out a data storage facility? Of course, we have reached new levels of protection with internet clouds backing up data, but this is still a threat for unbacked up data. More relevant to our present-day circumstances, what if someone hacks into a database or data becomes corrupted in some way making it irretrievable or unreadable? The list of possible threats and safeguards is long, but my point is not to address these threats, but rather to remind archaeologists (and other professionals) new to digital methods of data collection and storage of the resources required for upkeep and ensuring long-term usability. It might be easy to get caught up with how technology is benefitting one’s research methods without making a comprehensive long term data management plan. As a responsible archaeologist engaging with digital methods and tools, this is imperative to ensuring the data collected is available and useable for future generations.

Reference:

Ross, S.  and Gow, A. 1999. Digital Archaeology: Rescuing Neglected and Damaged Data Resources. A JISC/NPO Study within the Electronic Libraries (eLib) Programme on the Preservation of Electronic Materials. Project Report. Library Information Technology Centre, South Bank University, London. https://eprints.gla.ac.uk/100304/

Archaeology and Social Media: the Trade in Human Remains

Our upcoming class for this week is going to include a conversation with Dr. Shawn Graham as well as discussions on archaeology and social media. These upcoming discussions have had me actively thinking about an issue relevant to archaeology that I think a lot of us are unaware of: the human remains trade on social media. I think most of us are aware of the illicit antiquities trade; when archaeological sites are looted and destroyed for the purpose of selling artifacts on the worldwide antiquities market. However, this is not limited to material remains. Human remains are frequently sold on the global antiquities market, particularly via social media sites such as Facebook and Instagram. 

In the case of Instagram, the platform's terms of service prohibit "illicit activities". However in reality a variety of illegal activities, from the sale of drugs to exotic animals to human remains, go relatively unchecked on the platform. Additionally, legislation on the sale of human remains varies depending on local jurisdiction and often focuses primarily on the de-accessioning of museum collections. Therefore, the sale of human remains on Instagram tends to fall within various loopholes. 

It might seem that the trade in human remains on social media is removed from the discipline of archaeology. However, this practice is reminiscent of archaeology's colonial past; when Western antiquarians and early archaeologists plundered artifacts from archaeological sites and brought them home, and filled cabinets of curiosities. Those cabinets of curiosities eventually became museums, and the discipline has since begun the work of addressing its colonial past through repatriation and discourse on decolonizing archaeology. However, the ideas, rhetoric, and jargon behind cabinets of curiosities is alive and well on social media sites. Commonly used terms on posts related to the sale and modification of human remains include "oddity", "oddities", "macabre", "curiosity", "curiosities", and "antique". 

The human remains trade on social media is a relatively new area of research. It highlights questions of power, agency, commodification, and connectivity. For many collectors of human remains, there does not appear to be an ethical problem. The language which is used to describe human remains acts to remove all humanity and agency from these remains. They are no longer human, rather they are objects without agency which can therefore be bought and sold "legally". Additionally, collectors partake in a practice that allows them to curate their own assemblage of artifacts and apply their own value to these remains, while creating feelings of community and connectivity with other collectors. Overall, the sale of human remains online invites us to reflect on the legacy of archaeology. While we might be working to decolonize the field of archaeology, archaeology's colonial past is alive and well in the public sphere and goes relatively unchecked on these platforms. Are we doing enough as archaeologists do counter the legacy of archaeology outside of the bubble of academia?

Sources: 

Huffer, D. and Graham, S. 2018. Fleshing Out the Bones: Studying the Human Remains Trade with Tensorflow and Inception. Journal of Computer Applications in Archaeology, 1 (1), pp. 55-63. http://doi.org/10.5334/jcaa.8

Huffer, D. and Graham, S. 2017. The Insta-Dead: The rhetoric of the human remains trade on Instagram. Internet Archaeology, 45. https://doi.org/10.11141/ia.45.5

Use of Geographic Information System (GIS) in Climate Change Archaeology

Climate change has drastic effects around the globe, the risk of sea levels rising from the melting ice caps present a danger for archaeologists as coastal archaeological sites are put at a high risk of erosion.  However, GIS technology has given archaeologists an opportunity to better visualize the rates of coastal erosion and at-risk archeological sites.  A current example of this would be at the coastal town of Tuktoyaktuk in the Northwest Territories, Canada.  This image, taken from Mike O’Rourke’s Ph.D. thesis (2018), shows the erosion rate of the coastline at Toker Point, near Tuktoyaktuk.  O’Rourke uses GIS technology to map the rate of coastal erosion in this area.  The red line displays the coastline from the 1950s and the green line shows the coastline in 2004.  This research displays that there has been a significant loss of land around Tuktoyaktuk from both rising sea levels and coastal erosion.  O’Rourke’s research also assists with predicting which archaeological sites on the coast are at risk from this rapid erosion.  The rate of coastal erosion was found to pose a severe risk to the current-day occupants of the town of Tuktoyaktuk as well.       

Another example of this from Reeder, et al., (2012) which looks at the use of GIS in California’s Santa Barbara Channel region.  Reeder et al., (2012) focuses on coastal erosion from climate change as well as the potential for urban development in the area.  This image displays archaeological sites which were coded according to a cultural resource vulnerability index.  Red indicates a site at high-risk, and blue indicates a low-risk site.  The aim of this research was to quantify the most vulnerable archaeological sites in the Santa Barbara Channel and it was found that 57 sites were classified as very high-risk and 270 sites were at high-risk.     

Both examples utilize GIS to identify high-risk archaeological sites, and this research could assist with the mitigation of these sites.  Although it would be impossible to excavate all at-risk sites, it certainly helps archaeologists to determine where archaeological work should be performed.  Can this work also be used to increase collaboration with descendent communities?  Could descendent communities gain more agency in archaeological work by informing archaeologists which of the at-risk sites should be prioritized?  If archaeologists were to disseminate this information, in the form of the maps seen above, assist with public engagement in archaeology?  At the very least, these maps can clearly illustrate the impact of climate change and coastal erosion on coastal communities.  Please leave any thoughts you have in the comments below!   

-Kaylee       

Virtual/ Digital vs. Material Repatriation: are they equal?

    We are all aware of the unethical practices of early explorers, anthropologists, and archaeologists who have taken cultural objects to study, preserve, and display in museums to the broader public. In response to this colonial act, and the subsequent separation of cultural material from descendant communities, some researchers are looking to virtual or digital repatriation of cultural objects as a solution or, in some cases, an interim solution to repatriating material objects to the communities they belong to. In situations where laws like the Native American Graves Protection and Repatriation Act (NAGPRA) do not apply, such as between international borders, creating digital access to cultural materials seems like the next best option. 3D scans of artifacts and related artifact or site information can be shared with communities. New technological advances in high resolution imagery, such as UAV (drone) imagery, 360⁰ photos, and virtual reality increase the ways in which communities can interact with and reconnect with their material culture. Although these technologies increase opportunities to reconnect communities with their material past and promote cultural learning, I question what is lost by not repatriating the physical object. Can we equate digital repatriation of material culture with repatriation of the actual artifacts?

    Two issues come to mind. The first is that researchers, often not affiliated with the descendant culture, are choosing which objects to represent and how to display them. There is a sort of lens, influenced by the creator’s decision-making and the technological limitations surrounding the digitizing project. As a result, the people interacting with the digital material are viewing the material culture after it has been filtered through the processes. This could lead to objects being represented in culturally inappropriate or irrelevant ways. This issue could be mitigated, of course, by including descendant communities in the digitization and curatorial process to ensure their cultural values are being represented. Despite collaborative efforts, what might still be lacking in a digital representation, compared to the real artifact?

    The second issue that comes to mind is about artifacts whose value is intrinsic in their physical properties. For example, an object belonging to a deceased family member might be valuable because that person owned, touched, and used that object. What about objects that are considered sacred or have some sort of spiritual quality assigned to them? In most cases, the digital representation of these objects would not suffice.

    How then do we speak about digital or virtual repatriation? Do we equate it with material repatriation? Do we differentiate it as something lesser than material repatriation, as in an option we take when material repatriation is not possible? Or are there other considerations we must examine?

If you would like to learn more about how virtual/digital repatriation is being practiced, take some time to explore these projects: 

Digital repatriation of biocultural collections: connecting scientific and indigenous communities of knowledge in Amazonia

Inuvialuit Living History Project: A Case of Access

 

-Ash

 Hey all,

You may recall we were talking about authenticity, accuracy and immersiveness when it came to computer games like the Assassin's Creed series of games, and I provided you earlier with a link to a video of one of the historical tours of the Origins game in the series, set during the Peloponesian Wars in Athens, plus or minus 2400 years ago. Well check out this video of two Classical Scholars touring the game, including Kathleen Lynch from the University of Cincinnati, an archaeologist who's worked for 25 years on the archaeology of Athens. It is an insightful, and impressed, reaction to the effort at accuracy offered up by Ubisoft, the game designers. But was this level of detail necessary, do you think? What does this level of archaeology "Easter egg" accuracy in the game impart, beyond one part impressing an expert, and one part inviting quibbles over details? Is this something archaeology should be trying to do more broadly to immersive people in the pasts we explore?

VR Technique for Preserving and Presenting Historical Paintings

    When I was searching the video display of Assassin's Creed on Youtube, I encountered an animated Chinese painting named Qing Ming Shang He Tu (清明上河图 1085-1145) . It is a painting showcasing the prosperity of the daily life of Bianjing, the capital of Northern Song China (960-1127), during the Qingming Festival (a traditional Chinese festival for reverence of ancestors). I have known this painting since I took history courses in my middle school. And I was very surprised to learn the antique painting is digitalized and animated now. The painting is famous for depicting the street scenario and natural landscape along the river in a very specific and delicate way: over 800 people along with a number of livestock, ships, buildings, vehicles, trees, etc. are included in the painting. When I looked at the animated painting, and followed the movement of the scope that zooms in and out the living details, not only I obtained a deep aesthetic experience (the video is also accompanied with music), but I was also amazed by the way digitalization, especially the Virtual Reality (VR) technique, could play a role in learning the history and its products.

Qing Ming Shang He Tu

Animated Version

    Similar to Assassin's Creed, the Chinese painting takes advantage of VR to mimic a historical space where it can immerse audience experience in an established setting. The audiences are expected to gain more interactive experience while they are placed in the space: they could orient towards where they want to see, stop at any point they want to scrutinize, or choose their own route to explore the scene. Different from Assassin's Creed, the VR setting of the painting is based on an existing material, which supplies enough details and contextual information to the animated version, while the setting of Assassin's Creed is completed with incomplete historical data and imagination of the technicians (I had a bit more elaboration about this in my comments to on February 2, 2021). Moreover, the aims of the game and of the Chinese painting are different: the former is more entertainment-oriented, while the latter is more conservation- and education-oriented. (feel free to disagree with me)

Qing Ming Shang He Tu

VR Version

    The worsening environmental condition caused by climate change, economic development projects, and other man-made damages have been posing threat to the preservation of historical sites and objects. How to effectively protect cultural heritage has become an urgent problem. And the solution to this does not merely rest on national departments, scholars and organizations. The public should also be involved in this process of retaining the material completeness of the common history. And to achieve this, the public needs to be educated and motivated. In this case, can VR be a promising tool in this regard? My understanding is that, through VR technology, people can either enter the space of the historical site by wearing VR glasses, and they can freely rotate their bodies to see the details in different directions; or they can exercise close observation of the historical collection by simply clicking the mouse or tapping the screen. The process could be made fun and exciting as much as possible with this more interactive technology. Distance between humans and objects is thus dissolved. However, whether and how this could be a start point to build deeper connections, and raise public awareness of historic preservation, is still unclear. Please feel free to share your thoughts in the comment box.

Disciplinary Concerns with DNA Storage

 
    I previously introduced the idea of storing archaeological data with DNA encoding. Unfortunately, there are some concerns if this technology is further explored in archaeology. In theory, this technology should help remove some bias from future historical narratives and data sets, ensuring we don’t have to personally decide what digital data we have room to store or whether it’s worth transferring old data to new storage technology to avoid it being lost or forgotten. Without needing to prioritize information, everything could be encoded for the future. However, is this okay? Or could this lead us blindly into ‘preservation by record’? 

    Although we have the potential to preserve “everything,” the number of decisions leading to the data encoding cannot be forgotten. Future researchers must not assume the record is “everything.” Our interpretation of archaeological and heritage material needed to transform the material into a binary code itself is a potentially problematic procedure. Different forms of digital archaeology already risk the loss of cognitive and experiential aspects of heritage. After this heavy alteration from being transformed into binary computer code, transformed into a strain of DNA, and then reversed in processual to the original digital data set, distance from these aspects is, even more, a risk. This could cause a potentially damaging distance between the material and its cultural context, an issue that has already been discussed in lecture. 

    Also, is it our right to preserve archaeological and heritage material “forever”? Some communities require images of deceased individuals to be destroyed to let the individual pass to their next life. Some material culture also requires burying or destroying when no longer in use. Would storage in organic, living material affect these issues? 

    The proper care, handling, and long-term storage of material in archaeology is an ethical disciplinary problem that must be considered. Is the potential for LONG term digital storage a proper solution to this? Would this method be any better than storing material in locked boxes, warehouses, off-site facilities, out of sight and out of mind? Could the potential distance created between material and context exacerbate this issue? Or do you believe this technological advancement could drive critical discussions on ethics and improve our practice? 

    One thing is for sure, this technology would require interdisciplinary teams and descendant communities must work together to ensure proper care of archaeological and heritage material. The blessing of our discipline is the constant ethical concerns to consider. I'd love to hear your thoughts!