This is a story about a chance encounter that took place some years ago, and the extraordinary tale that I heard that night. It should be read with some discretion. After all, many years have passed since then, and even more since the actual event took place, if you’re inclined to believe that it took place at all. 

 

A few years back, while visiting my Grandfather’s senior living community, I had the opportunity to join him and some of the other residents for dinner. Usually, at some point during these meals, it would briefly come up that I studied archaeology, folks would say a few kind words expressing mild interest, and that was typically the end of it. That evening however, one of the residents, whose name I have regretfully forgotten, approached me excitedly and told me that at some point in his career he had worked with archaeologists. Before I had a chance to respond, he continued with his story. 

 

The Resident explained that some time ago he had worked in the laboratory of an important scientist. Through a happy accident, an experiment produced molecules that could be sent back and forth in time. After some months of trial and error, the scientist felt that the machine was ready for human use and concluded that, due to their intimate knowledge of the true past, archaeologists should be the first to go back in time.   

 

A group of archaeologists from the local university were invited, and two were chosen to use the machine. The first was a highly respected Professor Emeritus who was famous, albeit within a very small circle, for revolutionizing the study of his subject. He was a veteran, known for his methodical excavations, his use of cutting-edge scientific techniques, and his incisive publications. These were typically difficult to read, but always reached logical conclusions and often became standard references from the very moment they were published. He himself was confident he had captured some actual slices of the past that had eluded all prior generations of archaeologists. After all, as he was very fond of pointing out, these earlier archaeologists had relied on haphazard excavations, faulty scientific results, and outmoded and surpassed philosophical and sociological theories.

 

The second archaeologist was younger and relatively unknown, even in those days. His work was always competent, but never ambitious. He wanted nothing more than to understand the people of the past, and yet, in truth, he often felt as though some invisible barrier precluded him from true understanding. Although he had a good grasp on the archaeological record and always endeavored to conduct every analytical method whose name could be contracted into three or four letters, he was never fully convinced that he really knew what life had actually been like. For this reason, he envied the Professor Emeritus who, as he understood it, possessed a clear picture of the past. 

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As both archaeologists climbed into the machine, the room began to shake, and soon both disappeared entirely. Then, moments later, the machine reappeared, and with it, both archaeologists.

 

After a moment’s pause, one of the laboratory technicians asked, “Well, what did you see? What was the past like?” The rest of the archaeologists in the room turned expectantly towards the Professor Emeritus.

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He began, “My esteemed colleagues, I feel fortunate to have been granted this extraordinary opportunity to see the past with my own eyes. There can be no greater reward after a life of toil in pursuit of the true past than to see that the picture I developed throughout my career was, in fact, largely accurate. During my brief voyage, I was able to observe that their social structures, economic activities, and subsistence strategies were exactly as I described them in my seminal papers on each of those subjects. The enigmatic objects that were found in their homes, and over whose functions we have so long argued, were used in much the same way as I thought they were.” 

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He continued, “To celebrate this incredible moment and in order to ensure that you all may also be granted a view of the true past, it is my intention to bind together the articles I’ve written throughout my career into a single volume. It will be titled directly after the people and time that I study, and I expect that it will become the standard reference from the very moment that it is published.” When the Professor Emeritus finished speaking, the whole room burst into rapturous applause. The archaeologists who always cited him clapped the loudest. 

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While the applause continued, the assembled scientists and archaeologists in the room heard someone loudly beckon for their attention. It was the Second Archaeologist. As those in the room turned towards him, he began to speak, “Friends and colleagues, throughout my time in this field I have always wanted to have a clear picture of the true past. I too feel fortunate to have been granted this opportunity. Therefore, I’m sorry to say that unfortunately, our esteemed friend, the Professor Emeritus, has given you all a false picture. In fact, much of what he has told you does not fit at all with what we observed.” 

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As the second archaeologist finished his sentence, he noticed the dubious and incredulous faces of those around him. Nonetheless, due to his lifelong goal of providing a true picture of the past he ignored them and outlined the social structures, economic activities, subsistence strategies, and actual purposes of the various objects they had all found in the archaeological record in minute detail. His descriptions were extremely vivid and, in every case, far more complex than anything previously proposed. In fact, most of what he had to say varied considerably not just from the research of the Professor Emeritus, but from anything anybody had ever thought about the people living in that particular place and time. He concluded by expressing his delight that it would finally be possible to really understand the people they studied and to convey a true picture of those people to an interested general public. 

 

Despite the fact that the Second Archaeologist had actually visited the true past, each of the other assembled archaeologists, and especially the Professor Emeritus, disputed what he had presented. They scoffed and explained how what he had told them did not fit at all with the most up to date research, or the impressions of the Professor Emeritus and therefore could not possibly be accurate. The Second Archaeologist, taken aback, responded, saying that he would write a monograph in which everything he had seen would be clearly presented, resulting in a field-wide paradigm shift. The monograph was indeed eventually written but was rejected by every single serious academic press. 

 

At this point, I interrupted the Resident, “I can understand why they were dubious of the Second Archaeologist, but with a time machine, would it not have been possible to send someone else back in time?” The resident smiled at me and continued with his story. 

 

After hearing the radically different versions of the two archaeologists, the Resident determined that he himself would make a visit to that place and time. That evening, he snuck into the laboratory, activated the machine, and made his own visit to the past. To his surprise, what he saw there didn’t quite fit with what either of the archaeologists had presented. Puzzled, the Resident returned to the present. 

 

When he reemerged in the laboratory, the Resident was shocked to see that the room around him was on fire. Each of the filing cabinets that contained documents related to the discovery of the time molecules had been completely emptied with some of the documents still burning on the floor. As he escaped down the stairs and out of the building, he looked up to see the entirety of the laboratory up in flames. Before he left however, he noticed one more thing out of the corner of his eye. Coming out of a different stairway he noticed the silhouette of a figure that looked remarkably like the Professor Emeritus. Finishing his story, he explained that despite many years of subsequent research and tremendous effort, the laboratory had never succeeded in creating another time machine. 

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The Resident stopped there, thanked me for listening, and retired back to his room. I never saw him again, although I think of him and his story often. As I have advanced in archaeology, I have often wondered how it was possible for the different visitors to the real past to report such radically different versions. Ultimately, I realized that the answer is quite simple and concluded that none of the three had, in fact, provided a picture of the true past. After all, it is today widely known that archaeologists of that period relied on haphazard observations, faulty scientific assumptions, and outmoded and surpassed philosophical and sociological theories. How far we have come! As to the Resident and his impressions, after several years of memorizing obscure and jargon filled publications in both overly dark and overly bright libraries, I’ve concluded that only well-trained modern archaeologists, in fact, possess the tools, theories, and vision required to understand the true past.