In Forbidden Archeology I documented many cases of
fraud and suppression of information in archeology. Of course,
this is just what you would expect to find in a book with a title like
that, coming from someone like me—a renegade and an outsider.
You can therefore imagine my pleasant surprise to find acknowledgment
of such things in a recent editorial in the pages of Antiquity,
one of the literary pillars of the archeological establishment.
You can find this extremely frank editorial, by editor Simon
Stoddard and deputy editor Caroline Malone, in the June 2001
issue of Antiquity. I’ve met both Simon and Caroline at various
archaeological conferences where I’ve spoken, such as the World
Archeological Congress. There I’ve seen them in the publication
display areas, standing at a table humbly promoting their journal,
like junior staff. I’ve chatted with each of them a bit on such occasions.
Of course, they are both professional archeologists, and I
heard Stoddard present a paper at one conference, about settlement
patterns in Greco-Roman Sicily.
It happens I have my own little history with Antiquity. In
1993, when Forbidden Archeology first appeared, Cyprian Broodbank
described it in Antiquity’s new book section like this: “All the
reasons and evidence why modern humans are not rather recent but
most ancient, a very large, very odd compilation of every anomaly
in a very pink jacket.” I included Broodbank’s remarks in Forbidden
Archeology’s Impact, which also drew a notice in Antiquity’s new
book section, this time (March 1999) from Nicholas James: “Antiquity’s
receptiveness to alternative archaeologies has been rewarded
with mention in Cremo’s review of the world’s responses to his
previous opus. Part of our comment is even quoted on the dustjacket,
along with those of Richard Leaky [sic] and—Oyez!—Graham
Hancock. Drawing the tome open, we find our whole review
faithfully reproduced.” And now here’s the Broodbank review again
—in Atlantis Rising!
But let’s return to the matter at hand. In their June 2001 editorial,
Stoddard and Malone first note that the Taliban in Afghanistan,
who recently destroyed large stone statues of the Buddha in
the Bamihan valley, are not the only iconoclasts in the history of
archeology. They note that the early Christians destroyed quite a
bit of Greek and Roman statuary and architecture. Stoddard and
Malone then move on to what they call “a distinctly archaelogical
iconoclasm. . . . the non-publication of fieldwork.” Archeologists
have a habit of digging things up, and then delaying, sometimes
for decades, any publications about them. Therefore, as far as the
world of archeology is concerned, the things that were dug up don’t
exist—because the circumstances of their discovery have not been
officially reported to colleagues. So, in this sense, nonpublication
is a kind of destruction of archeological evidence. During the time
of nonpublication, archeologists often deny their colleagues access
to the artifacts that have been recovered. One critic noted that 80
percent of all Italian archeological material has not been published.
That’s interesting. But there’s more. Stoddard and Malone go
on to speak of “another dimension of archeological iconoclasm . . .
that of falsification,” thus entering deeply into my territory, the
territory of forbidden archeology. They note that archeologists are
under such pressure to produce spectacular results that they sometimes
cheat: “We personally remember meeting a brilliant colleague
who over-extended the distribution of Mycenaean sherds in Tuscany
by creative re-use of sherds from a museum store.” In other
words, their brilliant colleague took Mycenaean potsherds from
a museum’s storage rooms, and planted them in sites in Tuscany,
claiming that he found them there. His cheating was exposed when
suspicious colleagues took the pieces he claimed to have discovered
in the field and fitted their edges to the edges of pieces he left in
the museum. Stoddard and Malone, observing that their brilliant
colleague’s cheating would not have been detected simply by study
of his published work, remind us: “Archeological research is ultimately
based on trust . . . a trust that what we publish is a truthful
account.” Such trust is often misplaced, it seems.
Stoddard and Malone included in their editorial some thoughts
on contemporary archeological fraud written by archeologist Paul
Bahn. He found the case of senior Japanese archeologist Shinichi
Fujimara especially troubling. Late last year, Fujimara was videotaped
planting artifacts at a site in Japan, and photographs from
the tape were published on the front page of a leading national
newspaper (Manichi Shimbun). Fujimara, deputy director of the
Tohoku Palaeolithic Institute, admitted planting 61 of 65 artifacts
found at the Kamitakamori site and all 29 artifacts found at the
Soshinfudozaka site. Bahn had included artifacts from the Kamitakamori
site in an archeology textbook he coauthored with Colin
Renfrew.
In addition to deliberate faking of discoveries, Bahn (p. 237)
listed several other kinds of dishonesty prevalent in archeology,
including : (1) “the distortion or extremely partisan selection of evidence;”
(2) “exaggerated claims;” (3) “the prevention of colleagues’
access to objects or data;” (4) “the prevention of publication by critics
or opponents, together with blockage of their representation in
the media;” (5) “ferocious and bullying reactions to the slightest criticism,
especially aimed at intimidating younger colleagues.” And
the list goes on.
Bahn states (p. 238): “In archaeology as a whole the above
types of dishonesty have flourished for the simple reason that nobody
is willing or able to expose the culprits publicly, although
there are frequent mutterings in conference corridors or behind
closed doors. Even here, I am unable to name names, since it would
expose both me and this journal to litigation—although I could cite specific examples for all of the above.” Bahn says that the dishonesty
goes on because “no one, least of all the media, checks the
facts; or simply because most people find it hard to believe that
scholars could lie and cheat so brazenly.”
Maybe we should start a legal defense fund for Antiquity so
that Stoddard and Malone could allow Bahn to name the names in
a future issue?
Anyway, none of this fraudulent behavior among archeologists
is surprising to students of forbidden archeology, least of all
to me. (And I have named a few names in my day.) The case of
Virginia Steen-McIntyre is instructive. She and her colleagues,
using a variety of techniques, obtained an age of about 250,000 to
300,000 years for the Hueyatlaco site in Mexico, where stone tools
of a type made only by anatomically modern humans were uncovered
by archeologists. The archeologists, committed to a recent origin
of modern humans (100,000 years) and an even more recent
entry of modern humans into the Americas (25,000 years), refused
to accept the dates. And when Virginia Steen-McIntyre refused to
accept their denial, she was subjected to the kind of pressures that
Bahn lists above, ending a promising career. I myself have had some
personal experience of these things. When working with producer
Bill Cote on the NBC television special The Mysterious Origins of
Man, I found we were blocked from seeing the anomalous artifacts
from the California gold mines, which were being kept out of sight
in the storage rooms of a museum controlled by the University
of California at Berkeley. We also found that orthodox scientists,
led by UC Berkeley paleontologist Jere Lipps, engaged in an organized
effort to stop NBC from broadcasting the program. When
that failed, another paleontologist, Allison R. Palmer of the Institute
for Cambrian Studies, tried to get the Federal Communications
Commission to punish NBC for having shown this program,
which directly contradicted the sacrosanct Darwinian account of
human origins.
But there is a more fundamental issue at stake. In my studies
of Vedic epistemology, I have learned that all varieties of material knowledge are infected by four defects. These are (1) karanaapatava,
imperfect senses; (2) bhrama, mistakes; (3) pramada, illusion;
and (4) vipralipsa, cheating. If you look carefully enough, you
will find abundant examples of each in every field of material
knowledge, including archeology. This certainly calls into question
the conclusions arrived at by such systems of knowledge, especially
when compared to the process of acquiring knowledge
through other methods, such as accepting knowledge from divinely
inspired records of ancient wisdom traditions. In my own work,
I have relied on accounts of extreme human antiquity found in the
ancient Sanskrit writings of India to guide my research into the history
of modern archeology. The Babylonian king lists, Chinese emperor
lists, Egyptian pharoah lists, and Mayan calendars may also
be added to the list of ancient wisdom sources that can help guide
researchers into the history of humans beings on our planet (and
other planets).