Archaeologists use the term ‘looter’ rather loosely, to mean not only people who dig into archaeological sites to acquire ‘loot’ with which to enrich themselves, but also people who collect artifacts for their own enjoyment, people who wantonly vandalize archaeological sites, and people who pick or dig something up out of simple curiosity. Some archaeologists recognize that ‘looters’ of such varied character have many reasons for digging, some of them not too different from those that motivate archaeologists themselves. Others, however, would condemn to purgatory or worse all nonprofessional excavators, and sometimes even collectors of artifacts from the ground surface. Archaeologists are similarly critical of people who sell or assist in the sale of artifacts - who are seldom referred to simply as ‘buyers’, ‘sellers’, or ‘dealers’ but by the pejorative term ‘traffickers’. The reason for such visceral reactions on the part of archaeologists is that ‘looting’ is understood to be destructive of archaeological data present in sites, in artifacts, and particularly in the relationships among artifacts, sites, and site features like architecture and soil strata. A pot ripped out of its archaeological context may be beautiful on the shelf, but it has lost much of its ability to inform us about the past. ‘Trafficking’ makes ‘looting’ attractive to some people by creating a private market for excavated antiquities.
An archaeologist who assists or otherwise deals positively with ‘looters’ and ‘traffickers’, is regarded by most of his or her colleagues as unethical. Degrees of ethical violation are generally recognized. If an archaeologist helps an artifact dealer establish that a ‘looted’ pot is genuine, in most archaeological communities that is regarded as bad, but not as bad as helping the dealer establish a monetary price for the pot, which in turn is not as bad as buying the pot from the dealer, which is less bad than selling the pot to the dealer. Worst of all is digging the pot up and selling it to the dealer.
But if the pot or its contents are very, very important in terms of the information they represent, the core principle of recovering and using information may take precedence. If the pot contains papyri bearing some previously unknown ancient text, many archaeologists on balance will swallow hard and buy it. Selling it, however, is another matter - unless the buyer is a research or curatorial institution, in which case it may be acceptable for the archaeologist to recoup whatever he or she paid for the pot and its contents. There are, in other words, extenuating circumstances, but the extenuation extends to different lengths depending on the action taken.
Some ‘looters’ and ‘traffickers’ are economically distressed residents of areas rich in ancient sites, driven by their poverty to dig up and sell artifacts. Some have the additional justification of viewing the artifacts as having been left to them by their ancestors. Although most archaeologists regard what such people do as reprehensible, most also have to acknowledge that the situation is a difficult one, in which ethical codes by themselves provide little guidance. Should we try to stop such ‘looting’ ? If so, are we not obligated to look for alternative ways for the erstwhile diggers to earn a living? Is this not at least a practical necessity, if we expect people to stop digging for profit? Is purchasing something from an impoverished community whose members dig up things left by their ancestors somehow less bad than buying something from a different kind of ‘looter’? What about trying to teach people to ‘loot’ using archaeological methods? Where and how does one draw ethical lines?
There are others classified by many archaeologists as ‘looters’ and ‘traffickers’ who seek archaeological cooperation - for example, people who seek treasure buried or lost on land and under the sea. If a treasure hunter offers to fund an excavation, done using all relevant controls to assure the recovery and documentation of important data, in return for the right to keep or sell what is found, is it ethical for an archaeologist to accept the offer? Mainstream archaeological organizations, and most archaeologists, answer with a resounding ‘No.’ When pressed for a rationale (something that is seldom done in polite archaeological company), many fall back on a simple statement of morality - excavating things for sale is simply ‘wrong’. If asked for a rationale less redolent with religiosity, the answer may be that in the final analysis no treasure hunter ever has, ever will, ever can excavate according to archaeological principles; in the end the fever to loot will win out. Or that even if an excavation is done properly, if the artifacts are dispersed through sale, they become unavailable for future study. Some treasure-seeking interests counter with proposals to turn over everything found to a museum, or even to create museums for everything found, except for items like coins and gold bars, which arguably have little research significance. While this sort of proposal softens the logical ground under archaeological opposition to cooperative endeavors, the hardcore moralism tends to remain. The codes of ethics of most archaeological organizations flatly forbid cooperation with those who would excavate archaeological material for sale.
Finally, there are many people, nonarchaeologists in terms of professional training and academic degrees, who collect artifacts for reasons that they say are essentially the same as those that motivate archaeologists. We are fascinated by the past, they say; we want to learn about the past, and we do not want to see archaeological sites destroyed by development or agriculture or erosion, so we want to excavate them. The only difference between what we do and what you do, they go on, is that we keep what we find, or occasionally sell or exchange it - rather than putting it in a museum where we all know it has a good chance of being lost or tossed out in some change of institutional policy. Some say they would be happy to work to archaeological standards, if archaeologists would only help them and not insist that they give up their collections.
There are some archaeologists (this author among them) who wonder if it is possible to achieve cooperation between archaeologists and at least some classes of ‘looter’ and ‘trafficker’ - creating a relationship under which sites are excavated using archaeological methods, but selected recovered objects can remain in private hands or enter the stream of commerce rather than going to museums and research institutions. On the whole, such an idea is regarded as anathema by the mainstream of archaeology. There are certainly programs in which archaeologists work with people who collect artifacts, but almost invariably an agreement not to ‘traffick’ is a precondition to participation in such a program. Often a participant is required to give up his or her private collection or at least refrain from digging to expand it. Very few archaeologists have gone to work for or with treasure recovery organizations, based on agreements under which the treasure seekers record and properly conserve archaeological data while recovering coins or bullion for sale. These archaeologists, however, are widely regarded by the mainstream as having sold their souls. It is not apparent that they, or a responsible private collector, actually violate archaeology’s core principle of protecting, recovering, and using data, but many archaeologists and archaeological organizations shun and discriminate against them. This is an unresolved issue that will probably gain more exposure as time goes by, particularly as treasure recovery companies gain expanded access to the deep oceans and other extreme environments using expensive high technology unavailable to ordinary archaeological researchers.
World History
