This is a pre-review preprint of a paper presented at the 2nd Workshop in the Exploring the Layers of Digital Archaeological Practice Series, whose theme for 2025 was Data and Technology Politics in Archaeology. The workshop was hosted at the Norwegian Institute at Athens from December 3-4, 2025.
Introduction
[1] Archaeological projects are inherently collaborative, in that they bring teams of people with a variety of unique outlooks and experiences to examine material assemblages of common interest. Archaeologists apply a multitude of tools and methods, in sequence and in tandem and across different kinds of work settings, to produce rich and heterogeneous data about their engagements with the archaeological record. They adhere to professional norms and expectations to organize the products of their collective labour, and rely on a combination of digital and analog devices and protocols to pool the outcomes of their respective tasks.
[2] Advanced computational systems, especially those that integrate data from across the span of work occurring within archaeological projects, have helped overcome technical barriers obstructing the free flow of information. These systems have undoubtably unlocked enhanced analytical protocols that support robust understanding of the past. However, data integration is much more than a technical process; it also involves considerable collaborative labour to facilitate commensurability of research outcomes and to ensure that all parties effectively contribute to common goals.
[3] In this paper I make clear associations between project and data management, and how they establish means of maintaining controlled information resources. It therefore draws attention to the series of collaborative commitments and broader social contexts in which archaeologists embed their work. Specifically, the paper examines how locally-circumscribed practices are re-framed as generic processes as part of attempts to streamline the assembly and dissemination of data, and how this permeates across project systems.
Background
[4] Archaeological data are records that encode objects’ characteristics, properties or features in ways that render meaningful aspects communicable among actors who share common points of reference.1 In effect, data identify, record and format information about objects or phenomena and their relevant properties, which enables knowledge about them to circulate and form the basis for extended avenues of knowledge production. It is therefore helpful to frame data sharing as an act of discursive communication, whereby data are documentary records that enable research to be extended across time and place, and to be carried out in a collaborative manner. The media upon which data are inscribed (e.g. databases, registries, and online catalogues) enable direct experiences with objects and phenomena of interest to be shared and acted upon in alternative research contexts. This view also encourages consideration of data sharing within the internal purview of independent projects. Overall, thinking of data sharing as acts of communication between actors with overlapping perspectives and expectations draws out a greater appreciation for the ecologies of knowledge involved in the creation and curation of archaeological data, and of tensions between the promise of aggregated open data and the lived realities of professional practice (Batist 2023).
[5] The past decade has produced a flood of research that critically examines archaeological information systems along those lines. Although there is a long history of reflexive research on the social and collaborative nature of archaeological data, and there are too many scattered instances of such work being applied to examine specific areas of archaeological practice, a few prior works stand out as particularly relevant in the context of the present study. Hacıgüzeller, Taylor, and Perry (2021) looked at the dominance of structured data and highlighted certain myths regarding what structured data is generally thought to afford. This complements Huggett (2022) who articulated some means through our imaginaries of data as concrete and objective representations are manifested. These perspectives align with a theoretical framework offered by (Dallas 2015, 2016), who sought to re-frame all epistemic tasks as series of pragmatic, dialectic exchanges, whereby work is informed by internalized anticipation of future extensions of the task’s outcomes and of reconciliation of the prior decisions that shaped circumstances under which the task is being undertaken.
[6] Others have drawn critical attention to mechanisms through which projects and institutions seek to control these epistemic acts that occur in archaeological data collection and management. Eddisford and Morgan (2019) draw from Star (1993) who examined the means through which recording sheets are applied to control the means through which data are collected in field-based research. This relates to research by Yarrow (2008), Mickel (2021) and Thorpe (2012) who identified paternalistic attitudes concerning documentation practices in pedagogical, neocolonial and commercial contexts, respectively. Batist et al. (2021) extended this line of inquiry by noting how the use of digital systems are often used in a way that reduces crafty and creative applications; as such, the tools impose order on research practice, leading the archaeologists to manage their projects and educate their students in ways that fulfill the tools’ needs.
Methods and Data
[7] The findings presented here derive from the author’s dissertation (Batist 2023), which produced three other papers utilizing overlapping source material (Batist 2024, 2025b, 2025a). Refer to the methods and data presented in those works for further methodological details.
Cases
[8] This paper articulates some systemic relations that scaffold archaeologists’ actions and attitudes at two independent archaeological projects, which serve as cases. The cases are not the subjects of inquiry, and instead represent discrete instances that share common reference to the overall research themes (Stake 2006). So while the cases are certainly not representative of the whole archaeological discipline, they do enable me to reveal some underappreciated systemic concerns that underlie data management. As such, the findings are informed by the behaviours and attitudes expressed to me by those who agreed to participate, and by my own standpoint as a scholar of the culture and practice of science and of the media and infrastructures that support data sharing, integration and reuse.
[9] Both cases were research projects located in southern Europe and directed by professors affiliated with North American universities. I contributed to Case A for several years as a database manager, which provided me a privileged outlook on the systems set up to integrate and draw value from data. My involvement as a participant observer occurred over three years, from 2017 to 2019, and involved visiting the project during its summer field seasons to observe archaeological practices and to interview selected participants. I also held interviews throughout the “off season”. My continual and longer-term participation at Case A afforded greater understanding of the intricate social relations that developed over time, and enabled me to examine how certain methods and attitudes evolved over successive field seasons. This helped me account for how knowledge emerged from activities distributed across time, place and circumstance. Case B is generally regarded as being technologically innovative and has paved the way for application of novel digital tools and technologies into daily fieldwork routines (especially photogrammetry and advanced spatial recording systems). I visited this project for ten days during its 2019 summer fieldwork season, and my visit focused on the challenges that emerge from the use of advanced information systems, including how participants attempt to resolve those problems. My work at Case B was more intensive, and presented me with a fresh alternative to what I observed in Case A, which follows more traditional data management procedures.
[10] In both cases, the data I collected largely pertains to fieldwork recording practices, processing and analysis of finds, records management, interdisciplinary collaboration, decisions regarding writing and publication of findings, and discussions of how data and findings are presented, evaluated and revised among broader research communities. They each illustrate of the pragmatic and multifaceted ways in which participants reason and work their way through the rather mundane activities that archaeologists commonly undertake in similar research contexts.
[11] Commercial archaeology is absent from this study’s scope, despite the fact that it accounts for the vast majority of archaeological work conducted throughout North America and Europe. My own lack of knowledge about commercial archaeology contributed to my decision to exclude it from this study. However, Thorpe (2012) and Zorzin (2015) have done similar work in this domain and have arrived at complementary conclusions.
Data Collection
[12] I assembled a rich and heterogeneous dataset comprising recorded observations of research practices, embedded interviews with archaeologists while they worked, retrospective interviews in non-work settings, and documents produced and used by project participants.
[13] Observations were usually video-recorded and documented what people actually do, which may differ from what they say or think they do. The main focus of observations was on how people used information tools and interfaces, to account for how the specific context of an activity influences its implementation, and to document how researchers use unconventional solutions or “hacks” to solve problems (Goodwin 2010). Embedded interviews were conversational inquiries conducted while participants were actively working. This helps me understand how and why people make decisions in real-time, considering the immediate pressures and circumstances of their work. Unlike simply observing their actions, these interviews captured the practical perspectives held by the researchers (Flick 1997). Retrospective interviews were longer discussions held outside participants’ work environments. They provided greater understanding of the broader contexts of work by exploring aspects that were not easily observed, such as project planning, publishing, and collaboration (Fontana and Frey 2000). They also provided insight into how researchers saw themselves and their roles within the larger academic community. I examined documents including recording sheets, photographs, labels, databases, datasets and reports to gain insight into the norms or expectations concerning the presentation of legitimate forms of knowledge. I emphasized how people interacted with these media and ascribed value to them.
[14] I also wrote extensive field notes that remarked on key moments from observations and interview sessions, descriptions of unrecorded activities and conversations, and reflexive journal entries.
Data Analysis
[15] Through abductive qualitative analysis of observations of archaeological practice, interviews with archaeologists as they worked, and of documents they created, I captured diverse experiences and outlooks that provide insight regarding how data management infrastructures are valued and used in a variety of contexts. This involved coding segments of interview transcripts and observational records and performing systematic writing and conceptual modelling exercises directly alongside the data (Charmaz 2014). This allowed me to build theories based on empirical evidence that reflected the informants’ diverse experiences.
[16] By listening to participants’ views concerning the systems with which they engaged and explanations as to why they acted in the ways that they did, I uncovered some underlying assumptions that shaped their perspectives and actions. Specifically, I was able to articulate systemic factors that scaffolded participants’ actions, attitudes, and experiences as they contributed to collective operations.
Findings
[17] Analysis of archaeological materials and data is dependent on systems of control. To control the flow of materials and the structure of data, it is necessary to control people’s behaviours. In other words, the epistemic value that a project produces is inherently dependent on the control that may be imposed on archaeologists behaviours. Here I document some ways in which projects scaffold archaeologists’ behaviours through technical and administrative means.
Finds processing
[18] Both cases adhered to a relatively common hierarchical organization structure in fieldwork settings (Figure 1). The project director designated a field director who oversaw all fieldwork. A series of trench supervisors, who were usually graduate students or experienced fieldworkers, led and coordinated data collection in specific trenches or areas of a site. Trench assistants, who were usually less experienced students or local labourers, operated under the guidance of their assigned supervisors. Some specialists, including conservators, photographers, and those responsible for collecting spatial data, also worked in field settings.
[19] The projects that served as cases uncovered a lot of material, which had to be sorted and processed to facilitate subsequent analysis. Finds processing began in the field, where objects were first recovered and identified as meaningful sources of archaeological insight. At both cases, fieldworkers separated objects into bags and buckets labelled with the excavation unit in which they were found and according to their material properties (i.e., ceramic, bone and shell) (Figure 2). Trench supervisors were almost always responsible for writing on or otherwise dictating the tags and bags, which systematized the bucketing process according to a concrete and lasting official schema. Supervisors were also responsible for instructing assistants regarding how to process materials and separate them out.
[20] Additionally, fieldworkers tossed away stones or debris that exhibited no anthropogenic qualities. They often used sieves to separate loose, non-anthropogenic sediment from small objects, collecting things that they deemed culturally meaningful while discarding the rest (see Figure 3). Sometimes fieldworkers set aside materials that they were unsure about, while documenting the findspot in more detail — “just in case” — before proceeding with their work.A1 This documentation was tentative, but may have have become more permanent if a specialist later determined that those finds were worth saving for analysis.A1,A2