Earnest Albert Hooton spent his entire teaching career at Harvard University. A former student wrote that his lectures “were compounded of a strange, unpredictable mixture of strict attention to his duty to present the necessary facts… and of a delightful impatience with the restrictions of this role to which he seemed to react by launching into informal, speculative, and thoroughly entertaining and absorbing discussions of the subject at hand.” Worth attending, then. The subject to hand was physical anthropology, a scientific discipline concerned with all the biological and behavioural quirks of human beings. It is a subfield of anthropology, that goes granular on the biological bits within the systemic study of human beings. Hootan’s long nights in the lab ensured that Harvard was ground zero for the discipline, and by the time of his death in 1954 most physical anthropologists in the United States had either studied under him directly, or under someone who had. His research projects ranged from examining the restrictive shape of ball turrets, to measuring the width of people’s bums. The latter came to be known as the ‘Harvard Fanny Study’ and, perhaps to the disappointment of any bearded scientific peers in England, was involved in making the chairs of the Pennsylvania railroad more comfortable for passengers. As opposed to a very different, but no less exciting, study of nubile undergraduates.
In addition to physical anthropology, Hootan was also an advocate of criminal anthropology; a line of work that suggested measuring a person’s skull, or staring intensely at their face, could help establish whether they are going to chase you down the drive with a spade, or cry after drinking too much gin. In short, it sought to pin physical characteristics to human behaviour. Another man who caught the bug was Thomas Wingate Todd, a British orthodontist, who was responsible for putting together the first large collection of human skeletons. All in, and it’s not explained how he did this, he ended up with over three thousand human skulls and skeletons stuffed into his garage with the old tennis rackets and spare bed frame. His contributions to the field of anthropology, though, remain in use to this day. Whilst the process involves more latex gloves and laser beams, his work on identifying the age range of skeletonised remains, has helped give the likes of Jim Taggart something to get started on. It was these early pioneers who gave credence and legitimacy to the field of anthropology, but it wasn’t until the 1940s that forensic anthropology really took off.
Forensic anthropology is, as you might have guessed, the application of anthropology and its various subfields in a more muddy setting. Take Taggart. He finds a body in some disused factory in Greater Glasgow and yet his usual team in white onesies is unable to tell him anything about who the body might belong too. No wallet, no phone. Say too, the body has no hands. And no teeth. Not nice. This is when Taggart could do with the whispered mutterings of a forensic anthropologist, who could crouch and stare and assist in the identification of the corpse; tape measure and tweezers to hand. Taggart could then get on with whodunnit. It is though, not just Taggart who has a call on the services of forensic anthropologists, as they are often, sadly, instrumental in the investigation and documentation of genocide and mass graves. Anywhere really, where remains are decomposed, burned, mutilated or otherwise unrecognisable. The reason is that due to physical markers on a skeleton, they are often able to identify a victim’s age, sex, stature and ancestry. They can also, if given a bright lamp and half an hour’s peace, potentially narrow down the cause of death, identify past injuries such as broken bones, as well any diseases, such as bone cancer.
Identifying remains is, though, a sticky business and a forensic anthropologist will often call on other experts to don some wellies and sift through the soil. When the remains are partially or completely buried, a forensic archaeologist will be called to use proper excavation techniques to ensure the remains are recovered without unnecessary contamination. Forensic archaeologists are also trained at keeping their beady eyes peeled for any relevant objects, like wedding rings, cigarette butts or candlesticks. Anything really, that might help explain why the bones happen to be buried in so much mud. They are also able to observe context, association and the significance of any stray objects. They are possibly also good for a thermos flask and packet of hob-nobs. Having zipped the remains up in a jiffy bag and run them back to the lab, a call might then be put in to an expert in forensic taphonomy, people with long cold fingers, who know a thing or two about the changes to human remains caused by soil, water and the interaction of plants and animals. This lot got schooled at body farms, where donated cadavers are scattered about and monitored for how nature goes about its business of decomposition. We all dance to very different tunes.
If all this has got your juices flowing and the day job has lost any remaining appeal it might have had, you’ll need to go back to University before buying some kit and putting an ad in the Yellow Pages. To be taken seriously, best enrol in a bachelor’s degree in anthropology. Chose papers on physical anthropology and osteology (the study of bones). Don’t stop there either. Sneak into any lectures on biology, chemistry, anatomy and genetics: it’s all relevant. Once that’s done, and you’ve graduated with a solid 2:1 stick around as, if you want to be taken seriously, you’re best going for a PhD. And forget the Amateur Dramatics club, get some evening dissection classes under the belt too. Wrap all that up and you’ll then be ready for the IALM exam set by the fun-loving Forensic Anthropology Society of Europe. Pass the exam, and you can then call the Yellow Pages.
Before burning all professional bridges by telling your boss to go and jump into a stagnant canal behind a Tesco car park; it might be worth opening a good claret, sitting down and talking things through with your spouse.
It’s a career change.
It’s not accountancy.
They are going to have a lot of questions.
Hepburnsays 