Three decades after the initial five-year deadline for compliance, federal agencies and museums have once more been called to account for their failure to return Ancestors and cultural items to Tribal Nations under the Native American Graves Protection and Repatriation Act of 1990 (NAGPRA). In April 2024 more than 70 practitioners collaborated in forums and paper and poster sessions to produce the first ever “Day of NAGPRA” at the 89th Annual Meeting of the Society for American Archaeology in New Orleans. The overwhelming success of this effort is as clear a barometer as any for the current need in the discipline for more conversation, better resources, increased opportunities, and—above all—the chance at a truly collaborative push for a complete return of all Ancestors and their belongings to their communities. In this article, we set up our thematic issue by introducing readers to the various contributions concerning duty of care, education, and policy implementation inspired and informed by the “Day of NAGPRA.”

What does it mean to care for culture? How does an individual, a community, a government, a nongovernmental organization, or an international agency care for objects entangled in the legal and illegal antiquities trade, held in contentious museum collections, or at risk due to cultural or natural disasters? How do the various stewards of the past work across the unpredictable boundaries of private, public, and community ownership? Caring for culture involves a range of activities and commitments aimed at safeguarding tangible and intangible cultural representations and ensuring that they remain accessible to present and future generations while honoring the traditions, beliefs, and identities of the contemporary communities. This editorial introduction to this thematic issue of Advances in Archaeological Practice begins with an analysis of the duty of care for the Neo-Assyrian reliefs at the Virginia Theological Seminary, asking whether the decision to sell one of their fragments was caring for culture or a commodification of the past. The remaining contributions to this issue share the theme of caring for culture, acknowledging and building on the enduring scholarship of Neil J. Brodie and Patty Gerstenblith.

Many archaeologists recognize a need for a more proactive archaeology, one that is responsive to the goals of communities and so one that carries the potential to advance restorative justice and reclamation. But this work requires shifts in time and resources. Such high-investment community archaeology comes with unfolding developments, or cascade effects. We frame positive ones as including finding, honoring, elevating, and protecting cultural heritage and suggest these may offer those grappling with accommodating such shifts practical examples of the benefits. Our example comes from the Great Bay Archaeological Survey (GBAS) focused on colonial New Hampshire’s Great Bay Estuary/P8bagok (ca. AD 1600–1780). With years of community engagement in place, a landowner had heard of GBAS and stopped development when he noticed large stones. Here, we found an early colonial homestead site, the Meserve Garrison, and our attendant research traced out a trajectory of colonial expansion from Indigenous homelands transformed into English property, property into intergenerational wealth. With rising wealth came the dispossession of labor; GBAS found enslaved (freed) Africans lived in this rural northern New England frontier, a place not typically associated with chattel slavery. We are working to protect the site and publicly commemorate and restore an accurate, inclusive, colonial history.

This article uses the lens of commodity theory and, in particular, the scarcity effect to consider ways that consumer desire is reflected within auction catalogs for cultural objects. Taking Brodie and Manivet’s (2017:3) assertion that “auction sales do not offer a clear window onto the broader antiquities trade” as a motivating initial hypothesis, I find that auction catalogs do represent marketing material that can provide at least a blurry window onto the needs, wants, and desires of consumers acting within the market for archaeological and heritage objects. Consumer motivation at an auction is notoriously difficult to assess externally and has long represented a gap in the analysis of public antiquities sales. Failures to effectively regulate market consumption may relate to a misunderstanding of the people who are being regulated. Using more than 50 years of auction sales of Pacific cultural items as a case study, I present auction narrative analysis as a method to consider consumer desire and thereby inform heritage policy and market interventions.

In October 2022 at the annual board meeting of the Southeastern Archaeological Conference (SEAC), a new image policy for the journal Southeastern Archaeology was adopted that prohibited publication of photographs of funerary objects/belongings. In the discourse surrounding these new policies, a range of misunderstandings and mischaracterizations regarding consultative, collaborative, and community-based Indigenous archaeology were highlighted. Through a range of examples and personal experiences, this paper explores some of the realities of collaborative archaeological practice in the Indigenous American Southeast and aims to contextualize and mediate some recurring misunderstandings. Of particular importance and focus is the unique concept and definition of “the community” as it relates to collaborative practice across Indigenous North America. Importantly, I emphasize that southeastern archaeology and southeastern archaeologists are doing transformative work that puts us in a position to be leaders in the ongoing structural changes to our discipline.

The passage of the Native American Graves Protection and Repatriation Act (NAGPRA) in 1990 ushered in a new era in museum and Tribal practices. Faced with new and unprecedented legislative mandates, early NAGPRA practitioners were challenged to put a set of principles and statutory language into practice. Museum and Tribal representatives faced numerous challenges and unexpected barriers to implement the law. In this retrospective, we discuss the reality of implementing NAGPRA between its passage and the inventory deadline in 1995, focusing on four areas: the law, professional archaeological and museological codes of ethics, the state of collections, and capacity to do the work. The substantial accomplishments of the first five years created a foundation for work that continues today. Parallels to contemporary NAGPRA implementation, especially under the 2024 regulations, include tight deadlines, requirements that were not previously contemplated by practitioners, and the changing understanding of what it means to comply with the law. Practitioners will get a better understanding and awareness of their NAGPRA obligations, practices that are respectful of Tribal practitioners’ time demands and priorities, appreciation for the technological capacities available today, the need to support for consultation partners, and the importance of taking time to build empathetic relationships.

This article builds a framework for understanding both the observable and unobservable features of art fairs and how those structures are created through material and sensorial elements. It draws on the concept of atmospheres and broader discussions of affect to analyze the transgressive thrill present at art fairs, presenting an art fair as a space of commerce masked in the appearance of a museum-like space. This article explores how emotions and lures are structurally produced within the fair and how people are encouraged to collect. Within this space, a desire is cultivated via an opportunity to transgress the familiar norms of the museum environment, which fosters the development of a relationship between a person and an object. In this deeply affective space, rational responses to objects with unclear origins may be suspended. Through focusing on why people collect and how desire is generated we can better understand markets, including criminal markets, for highly desirable objects.

In response to stagnated repatriation efforts in the 32 years since the Native American Graves Protection and Repatriation Act (NAGPRA) became law, a proposed rule to revise implementation regulations was entered into the federal register in October 2022; 181 written comments on the proposed changes were submitted to regulations.gov, representing input from Native nations, the general public, universities, museums, and other individuals and entities engaged in NAGPRA work. Although the comments were publicly available, their quantity and format presented barriers to access. Interested parties could search for and read individual comments, but it was difficult to get an overall impression of demographic or feedback trends among respondents. I undertook a rigorous, independent analysis of the submitted written comments with the goals of (1) providing NAGPRA practitioners with a “snapshot” view of attitudes toward the proposed regulations; (2) considering more closely the responses of NAGPRA stakeholders, in particular Native nations; (3) summarizing the shared and specific concerns of Native respondents; and (4) highlighting the degree to which those concerns were addressed in the issuance of the Final Rule. I hope that this analysis helps focus the lens of NAGPRA praxis in the present moment more squarely on the needs and concerns of the descendant communities most affected by the Act.

Section 106 of the National Historic Preservation Act requires US federal agencies and their applicants to consider historic properties affected by their proposed actions. Guided principally by architectural historians and archaeologists throughout the 1980s, Section 106 reviews focused on identifying discrete structures and sites and then evaluating them in terms of dominant society aesthetics, histories, and sciences. By the 1990s, Section 106 participation by consulting Tribes and other cultural resource stewards obliged federal agencies to address a broader spectrum of historic properties and values. Agencies soon began using cultural landscape studies and other research and consultation tools to “match” historic property identification and assessment processes to the scale and complexity of proposed undertakings. The Section 106 review for the SunZia interstate transmission line (2009–2024) shows that the federal government has yet to consistently meet mandates to identify and assess elements other than archaeological/architectural historic properties. Our surveys of historic preservation professionals and available cultural landscape studies underscore disconnections between practitioner preferences for and the federal agency conduct of cultural landscape studies. They also highlight standards to use in evaluating the adequacy of cultural landscape studies. We recommend six attributes as essential to all cultural landscape study designs, methods, and applications in the Section 106 process.

This article contributes to the debate on illicit antiquities and deterrence. First, I briefly examine what has been written about deterrence in the literature on illicit antiquities. Second, I review the criminological research literature on deterrence to define the concept and explain its mechanics; that is, how, according to the best state of current knowledge, deterrence “works” to persuade people not to commit crime. Third, I consider what this criminological knowledge base means for deterrence in the field of illicit antiquities. Deterrence remains a developing idea, rich with practical implications for crime prevention but also harboring some profound unresolved questions about precisely what drives human action in certain contexts. Nonetheless, we can aim to gain a more rounded understanding of the concept than has previously been applied to illicit antiquities studies.

The recent increased attention on repatriation efforts and compliance with the Native American Graves Protection and Repatriation Act (NAGPRA) has placed many institutions in the same position—needing internal policies concerning research, exhibition, duty of care, and the eventual repatriation and return of cultural items held within their respective institutions. We argue that these policies should be created and carried out in a truly consultative, transparent, and respectful manner that includes Tribal perspectives and knowledge. Repatriation policies are not one size fits all but rather should reflect the holdings of specific institutions, as well as input from Tribal Nations whose Ancestors and cultural heritage they steward. This article brings together repatriation practitioners from five different institutions who share their experiences in creating collaborative repatriation policies and extending them to non-NAGPRA collections. These practitioners highlight some important considerations for those developing policies on exhibition and research, the care of Ancestors, their cultural items, and associated materials, and eventual repatriation. Our goal is to provide useful examples for those who are currently developing policies centered on repatriation, together with care practices, curation, and collections management.

This article is an introduction and guide to investigating past relationships between climate and human behavior. Improving understanding of these relationships is essential as humanity confronts the challenges of our warming world. However, how to investigate potential climatic influences on human behavior in the past is rarely presented or discussed as a distinct mode of inquiry. This article aims to fill this gap by providing a practical tool kit for students, archaeologists, anthropologists, and other historically focused social scientists. It is structured as a series of seven key steps to creating a research design for a climate and human behavior study, from identifying research questions to presenting results. Most of the conceptual models, methods, data, and examples provided have worldwide relevance and are informed by the long history of climate and human behavior studies in the North American Southwest. By expanding competence in this domain, we can enrich documentation and interpretations of the past and insights will emerge that will contribute to preparing for and responding to our warming world.

This article explores archaeological practice as regards the study and publication of unprovenanced artifacts, particularly elements of ancient arms and armor. It describes the reasons why publication is thought to be prejudicial for archaeological research and considers the possible utility of some counterarguments by way of an examination of the publication policy of the European Association of Archaeologists. It concludes by arguing that archaeologists in favor of study and publication need to do more to validate their position.

Commingled human skeletons have the potential to reveal information about ancient funerary traditions through detailed bioarchaeological analyses of element representation (via minimum number of individuals, or MNI) and postmortem distribution. While MNI estimates are often presented in a perfunctory way, calculations using more nuanced methods may offer insight into taphonomic alteration and mortuary practices no longer visible to archaeologists. At the Early Bronze Age communal tombs of Unar 1 and 2 at the Shimal Necropolis in Ras al-Khaimah, United Arab Emirates (UAE), MNI counts using skull, leg, and foot fragments varied dramatically, probably a result of differences in cortical bone density but also of cremation practices. Additionally, the presence of more elements from the left side of the skeleton suggests continuity with Neolithic interments in which individuals were preferentially laid on their right sides. Complex arrays of internal tomb chambers likewise demonstrate no particular preference for certain skeletal elements, indicating bone was not intentionally relocated to different areas of the tomb following cremation. These patterns differ from other tombs in the region, highlighting the need to more critically assess mortuary practices through “back-to-basics” approaches involving MNI estimates, particularly when involving large numbers of individuals represented by commingled and fragmentary bone.

Since 2018 the Alabama Department of Archives and History (ADAH) has actively engaged in Native American Graves Protection and Repatriation Act (NAGPRA) compliance work. During this time, the agency developed new perspectives and policies on NAGPRA and Indigenous collections care through consultation with Tribal partners and participation in the NAGPRA Community of Practice. Based on experiences at the ADAH, the authors identify challenges in implementing culturally sensitive collections care and suggest pathways forward. Topics of discussion include building institutional commitment and capacity, identifying and implementing culturally sensitive practices, stewarding sensitive information, and navigating a variety of stakeholder positions on NAGPRA and repatriation. We conclude that prioritizing the integration of Indigenous perspectives into collections care can positively affect the culture of our workplaces and disciplines at large.

Cultural objects are sold via global, public networks, where market stakeholders rely on the services of other actors such as academics, authenticators, and restorers to facilitate and legitimate this trade. This article will build on Neil Brodie’s examination of the role scholarly facilitators play in the illicit trade in cultural objects by exploring the harmful consequences of such scholarship, using the case studies of Emma Bunker and Mary Slusser as examples. This article argues that those of us with intellectual authority and control interacting with cultural objects should reflect on the broader social context of our research and the consequences of our knowledge production—and reckon with the exploitative and colonial foundations of the knowledge we build on. Ongoing ethical awareness and reflexivity need to be integrated into our practice to support and foster social justice. The article ends with some recommendations on how to incorporate these ideas into academic practice.

This article examines how Native Nations and institutions have been affected by a new directive in the revised NAGPRA regulations, the duty of care provision (43 CFR 10.1(d)), with a focus on the care of Indigenous Ancestral remains and cultural items. The Native Nation’s perspective is provided by the Osage Nation and the Eastern Band of Cherokee Indians. The South Carolina Institute of Archaeology and Anthropology; the University of Tennessee, Knoxville; the Illinois State Museum; and Indiana University share their viewpoints as institutions that house Indigenous Ancestral remains, cultural items, and archaeological collections and describe the initial impacts of the revised legislation on their programs. There are several key takeaways of its initial effects, including (1) an increased burden to Native Nations, given the substantial uptick in requests for consultation linked to new requirements for consent and the revised definitions of cultural items and research (although the end result of more consultations leading to repatriations is desired), (2) a disconnect between Native Nations and institutions regarding cultural item identification, (3) a strengthening of existing NAGPRA-related institutional policies and procedures, and (4) an emphasis on the importance of consultation between institutions and Native Nations to facilitate repatriation.

Zooarchaeologists routinely analyze assemblages that were initially sorted into major animal type (birds, mammals, fish, invertebrates) by students or lab technicians with varied backgrounds in zooarchaeology. Sorting errors are probably made in this initial phase, which can affect taxonomic representation and understanding of human–animal relationships. Recent study of the immense faunal assemblage (over 1 million NSP [Number of Specimens]) from Čḯxwicən (45CA523), a 2,700-year-old Lower Elwha Klallam village located on the coast of Washington (USA), allows us to systematically analyze trends in sorting errors. For example, 22.6% of the bird bones included in our sample were initially missorted into other taxonomic groups, primarily mammal, but also fish and invertebrate. Fish bones were less frequently missorted, but certain taxa with unusual elements were affected. More than one-fourth (27.3%) of all mammal bone chips (debitage from tool production) were missorted. Failure to recognize and mitigate these errors could lead to significant biases. Lab managers need to recognize the potential for sorting error at the beginning and train lab technicians in the kinds of faunal remains they will be encountering, including distinctive elements. Collaborative researchers need to develop protocols for transferring specimens, and scholars working with “legacy collections” should not assume the collections were sorted correctly.

The fields of archaeology and museology are working to encourage and enforce research methodologies and policies that center reciprocity and respect among archaeologists, institutions, and Native Nations. This shift in approach is grounded in part by the inclusion of the Duty of Care clause in the revised NAGPRA regulations and partly by a revised awareness of ethical standards. Policy-level changes around research access are the most impactful but can also be the most challenging to initiate. In this article, we address shifts in both institutional research policies and researchers’ approaches and practices that actively incorporate Native perspectives. The framework presented was developed as a complement to the Indigenous Collections Care Guide and is grounded in case studies from three institutions that have changed their research policies. The resulting prompts, tips, examples, and challenges are provided for both researchers and institutions to evaluate research and access practices and how they intersect with Native perspectives. Seeking input and consent from Native Nations adds challenging layers to research, but the depth, quality, and impact of the research and the strengthening of relationships and trust with the communities significantly outweigh the extra time and effort.

During the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries, women from Northern Rio Grande pueblos joined Ndee communities in western Kansas, where they made a local version of unpainted Tewa red ware. We investigate potential slip materials in the eastern High Plains and adjacent Central Plains, using CIELAB color data to graph red hue variation in collected pigments and slipped archaeological ceramics from 14SC1 and 14SC304. Although use of the CIELAB color system by archaeologists is well established, our approach is unique in its use of a* and b* graphs to describe and compare hue. Our graphs illustrate hue variation between red and yellow on the color wheel, facilitating comparisons and communicating color patterns more effectively than is possible using the Munsell system. We demonstrate that potters could have reproduced the red hues of Northern Rio Grande red ware in the different geological landscape of the Great Plains. Our collected pigments systematically vary in hue by geological formation or system. Two sampled geological formations in the eastern High Plains and adjacent Central Plains include pigments that fire to the “right” red, or the red hues of Northern Rio Grande red slips, and potters may have used one or both.