Endangerment and Conservation Ethos in Natural and Cultural Heritage: the Case of Zoos and Archaeological Sites

International Journal of Heritage Studies

ISSN: 1352-7258 (Print) 1470-3610 (Online) Journal homepage: http://www.tandfonline.com/loi/rjhs20

Endangerment and Conservation Ethos in Natural and Cultural Heritage: The Case of Zoos and Archaeological Sites

Cornelius Holtorf & Oscar Ortman

To cite this article: Cornelius Holtorf & Oscar Ortman (2008) Endangerment and Conservation Ethos in Natural and Cultural Heritage: The Case of Zoos and Archaeological Sites, International Journal of Heritage Studies, 14:1, 74-90, DOI: 10.1080/13527250701712380

To link to this article: http://dx.doi.org/10.1080/13527250701712380

Published online: 30 Nov 2007.

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Download by: [Brown University Library] Date: 18 January 2017, At: 08:32 International Journal of Heritage Studies Vol. 14, No. 1, January 2008, pp. 74–90

Endangerment and Conservation Ethos in Natural and Cultural Heritage: The Case of Zoos and Archaeological Sites Cornelius Holtorf & Oscar Ortman

InTaylorRJHS_A_271135.sgm10.1080/13527250701712380International1352-7258Original2008141000000JanuaryCorneliusHoltorfcornelius.holtorf@ark.lu.se and& Article Francis (print)/1470-3610Francis Journalrecent 2008 Ltd of Heritage (online) Studies years, various external circumstances such as environmental pollution and urban development have been emphasised as threats to the conservation of both wild animals and

ancient remains in the ground. This has been taken as an argument for the need to protect both endangered animal species and threatened archaeological sites. Nowadays, zoos often evoke the image of Noah’s Ark and describe themselves as sanctuaries for endangered species. Similarly, archaeologists are increasingly advocating ‘preservation in situ’ and tell the public about the importance of safeguarding ancient sites for the benefit of future generations. A short case study juxtaposes the conservation efforts concerning weathering rock carvings in Bohuslän in Sweden with rescue operations conducted by the zoo Nordens Ark (Nordic Ark) in the same area. We reveal the similarities in argumentation and discourse between conservation campaigns in zoos and in archaeology, and also discuss specific conservation strategies in both fields. In conclusion we question whether the rhetoric of conservation is always more than an attempt to jump on the ‘Green’ bandwagon in order to gain additional public support and legitimacy. We argue that humans today have a very real desire to help save scarce resources on our planet. Both zoos and archaeology provide opportunities for people to gain satisfaction by supporting the conservation ethos.

Keywords: Conservation; Desire to Care; Endangerment; Preservation; Rescue Archaeology; Zoos

Cornelius Holtorf, University of Lund; Oscar Ortman, Bohusläns Museum. Correspondence to: corne- [email protected]

ISSN 1352–7258 (print)/ISSN 1470–3610 (online) © 2008 Taylor & Francis DOI: 10.1080/13527250701712380 International Journal of Heritage Studies 75 This paper contextualises the conservation ethos and the associated notion of endangerment of finite resources by juxtaposing two seemingly unrelated fields and their discourses. Whereas zoo managers like to emphasise the role of zoos in conserving endangered animal species, archaeologists are widely promoting the preservation and rescuing of threatened ancient sites. As we will demonstrate—being well aware that for the sake of synthesis and argument our analysis generalises and simplifies to a certain extent—both fields turn out to use rather similar rhetoric and encounter similar problems in practice.1 After having discussed rhetoric and practical problems in turn, we will return at the end of the paper to one central question: has the time come for people to care properly for both threatened fauna and ancient sites before it is too late to save them? Or is it already late enough to recognise that such care is fulfilling rather different desires of people of our time and mainly saving zoos and archaeology?

Rescuing Endangered Specimens According to Koen Brower, representing the European Association of Zoos and Aquariums, ‘Fifty thousand animal and plant species are today threatened by extinction. There are experts that predict that more than one million species will become extinct during the coming centuries’.2 Therefore, contemporary zoos virtually unanimously claim the conservation of endangered species, a part of the natural heritage of our planet, as their most important task and justification. Largely as a result of the ‘Green’ movement of environmentalism which emerged during the 1970s, zoos now take great pride in supporting projects for the reintroduction of species that are extinct in the wild to their original habitats. It is no coincidence that zoos commonly evoke the biblical image of Noah’s Ark.3 A small zoo in the Swedish county of Bohuslän, for example, carries the name ‘Nordic Ark’ (Nordens Ark). It presents itself as a sanctuary for endangered species with the ultimate aim of reintroducing certain species back into the wild. Although already by the early 20th century zoo visionary Carl Hagenbeck had designed his Tier- park in Hamburg, Germany, as a re-creation of Eden and a sanctuary from a violent world and even from the evolutionary ‘struggle for survival’,4 Nordens Ark emphasises its status as a conservation and rescue centre more than most zoos. Founded in 1988, it distinguished itself from the start as a zoo specialising in endangered Nordic fauna. Members of several species, among them lynx and tree-frog, have been successfully bred and later reintroduced into the wild. Since 1997, Nordens Ark has also contained a farmstead dedicated to the conservation of Scandinavian farm animals (see Figure 1).5 Nothing is more of a relief for zoo visitors than knowing that the animals are kept there only temporarily (at least at species level), and that this is only for their own good to ensure future survival in the wild. Even Animal Kingdom, Disney’s zoo, once announced proudly that ‘there are 29 endangered species found at the Park.’ Among other attractions, it features a popular ride during which visitors encounter, chase and overcome poachers jeopardising wildlife conservation.6 Figure 1 TheConservation new farmstead of Nordens Ark has been built in the form of an ark. (Photo:campaigns Cornelius Holtorf, 1999.) organised by zoos can take many forms. Often they focus on breeding endangered animal species or on supporting local projects taking place in 76 C. Holtorf & O. Ortman

Figure 1 The new farmstead of Nordens Ark has been built in the form of an ark. (Photo: Cornelius Holtorf, 1999.) the threatened natural habitats themselves. All campaigns need funding. One of us noticed one particularly subtle strategy at Linton Zoo near Cambridge in the UK, where, for 50p, a bouncy castle invites children to ‘have a bounce to help save wildlife’. With schemes such as these, zoos are reminding visitors of the place of human beings in nature, the finiteness of certain resources, and our responsibilities on this planet. The example is also a reminder that zoos, like many natural history museums, are visibly keen to educate visitors about the importance of saving natural habitats and ecosystems from various threats of destruction.7 It is clear that this entire agenda of conservation was helpful in fending off the powerful Animal Rights Lobby that has been very critical about the entire rationale of zoos and at some point not so long ago even looked like it might win the argument. Today, zoos are thriving again, partly due to their tireless efforts to emphasise conservation. All of this is paralleled by the role and mission of archaeology and cultural heritage management in modern society. In a survey of England’s archaeological sites and monuments, the authors described those parts of the ‘archaeological resource’ that have been lost or destroyed as ‘extinct’.8 Increasing destruction and pollution of the environment as well as urban development has not only put the conservation of animals on the agenda but also that of archaeological sites. For example, some Scandinavian rock carvings are now seriously threatened in their existence because of acid rain and other factors which dramatically increase weathering. According to Rock Care, a project concerning rock art conservation, only a few of the 5,000 carvings known in Western Sweden today are likely to survive for the benefit of future International Journal of Heritage Studies 77 generations.9 At the European level, a large international project has been collecting and analysing large amounts of environmental data in order to better understand the effects of climate change on Europe’s built heritage and cultural landscapes. Signifi- cantly, the ongoing project carries the title ‘Noah’s Ark’ and one of its main objectives is to ‘develop mitigation and adaptation strategies for historic buildings, sites, monuments and materials that are likely to be worst affected by climate change effects and associated disasters’.10 As relics of nature and culture alike warrant special protection, crusades to save cultural and natural heritage increasingly enlist similar ethical, political and academic arguments.11 Whereas zoo representatives fight against poaching and the illicit trade in trophies and souvenirs made from body parts of endangered species, archaeologists take great efforts to fight treasure hunting, tomb robbing and the illicit antiquities trade. Siberian tigers are talked about in the same way as Peruvian grave goods: they should not be stolen or traded, but carefully documented, conserved, and presented to the public. In the same way that zoos and natural history museums are conserving endangered treasures of the natural world, archaeological museums have at times been seen as some kind of sanctuary for fragile archaeological specimens. Since the advent of ‘rescue archaeology’ that perception has become ever stronger. ‘RESCUE—The British Archaeological Trust’ was founded in 1971 as a campaigning organisation for government funds to permit the excavation of archaeological sites in advance of road building, construction or other development, thus saving, on behalf of future generations, precious evidence of the past from imminent destruction. On its famous poster showing the bulldozer destroying Stonehenge the charity proclaimed that ‘Tomorrow maybe too late’ (see Figure 2). Figure 2 AnThe early RESCUE campaign promotion poster. Reproduced with permission of RESCUE—The Britishof Archaeological such Trust. reasoning eventually led to what the archaeologist Martin Bell has described as the development of a conservation ethos in the UK from around 1980.12 Today, the overall situation of archaeology in the UK is different and sustainability and stewardship have become buzzwords among archaeologists and heritage managers who are increasingly advocating ‘preservation in situ’ RESCUE is still campaigning in various ways ‘to secure a future for our shared past’, promoting ‘the interests of archaeology in Britain’ in a way typical for the entire conservation ethos: Help us to save our past. Today and tomorrow are built on yesterday The past is the foundation for the future It is all around us and beneath our feet It belongs to all of us It is fragile and cannot be replaced. 13 Here are all the key elements of the argument: the non-renewability; the link between past and future; the need of support; the imminent threat; the common responsibility. In North America, The Archaeological Conservancy is a ‘non-profit organization preserving endangered archaeological sites’ by acquiring the land on which they are located. They state, using similar terms, that 78 C. Holtorf & O. Ortman

Figure 2 An early RESCUE campaign poster. Reproduced with permission of RESCUE— The British Archaeological Trust.

Every day, prehistoric and historic archaeological sites in the United States are lost forever—along with the precious information they contain … By permanently preserving important cultural sites, the Conservancy makes sure they will be available for our children and grandchildren to study and enjoy.14

This is all very reminiscent of the rhetoric used by zoo representatives concerning the need for natural conservation. The similarities of the two discourses go even further, though. Just as practically all contemporary zoos invite visitors to ‘adopt’ particular animal species in their care through regular donations, cultural heritage authorities such as the Swedish National Heritage Board are offering school classes and other local inhabitants the possibility to ‘adopt’ a heritage site in their neighbourhood by assuming some kind of responsibility for its study and maintenance. Intriguingly, James Beck even proposed a Bill of Rights for works of art, including ancient art. It starts by claim- ing that ‘all works of art have the inalienable right to live an honorable existence’.15 That the same right can apply to any archaeological artefact is demonstrated at the Bronze Age site of Flag Fen in England where they offer …

Genuine Flag Fen Bronze Age Wood For Adoption. This wood was left in the famous Flag Fen Platform. It has remained buried since the previous owners left 3,000 years International Journal of Heritage Studies 79 ago. COULD YOU GIVE IT A HOME. Varying species and splits, plus one ADOP- TION CERTIFICATE. Prices vary according to size. So easy to care for, just keep in fresh water and out of the sun. (Shelf advertising, Flag Fen, UK, 2001) There is thus a lot of common ground in nature and culture conservation. But how close are the slogans and theories, the approaches and practices concerning the conservation of natural and cultural heritage really? As a case study we will briefly look at the treatment of threatened rock carvings and endangered animal species in selected locations in the Swedish county of Bohuslän. At Nordens Ark, the Swedish zoo referred to above, healthy living animals of endangered species are kept, bred and displayed. In the best interests of the animals, their enclosures are big enough for them to escape from the gaze of the visitors so that the animals are often not visible. Visitors are frequently reminded that the species kept are endangered and that the zoo is trying to secure their future through breeding, eventually reintroducing animals into the wild. At the rock carving sites near Tanum, about 30 km to the north of Nordens Ark, securing a future for threatened heritage is a paramount concern too. Moreover, at Aspeberget, which is one of several rock art sites in the area, the visitor experience is likewise compromised in the best interest of the rock carvings, as some have permanently escaped the gaze of the visitors. On an information board visitors learn that increased weathering due to contemporary emissions of sulphur and nitrogen threatens to wipe out some ancient carvings that had survived the previous 3,000 years nearly unchanged. In order to ensure their survival, and study the precise impact of contemporary weathering, some carvings have therefore been covered with sand and soil. This is as if a zoo were to deny visitors entry to an animal house by stating that the animals’ chance of survival must not be compromised by exposing them in any way. Unlikely? Maybe. Unthinkable? Hardly. At Vitlycke Museum near Tanum a different conservation strategy has been chosen. The museum incorporates a rock carving moved here and thus saved from imminent destruction when a new road bypass was constructed near Hoghem in 1991 (see Figure 3). The Hoghem carving is now presented somewhat out of place in Vitlycke Museum, but no more so than a North American mountain goat may seem foreign in Nordens Ark. In all these cases individual specimens are cared for because they represent something that is worth conserving—the Nordic natural and cultural heritage, respectively. In their conservation efforts, the two fields of heritage seem very close indeed. Figure 3 TheDespite saved carving of Hoghem in captivity. (Photo:these Oscar Ortman.) similarities, there are also significant differences between the concerns for threatened nature and culture. David Lowenthal recently pointed out some of them.16 Nature conservation is primarily promoted for long-term economic or ecolog- ical benefits, whereas cultural heritage is preserved mainly with cultural or aesthetic benefits in mind. Cultural items to be protected are usually individual historical objects or sites, whereas natural items tend to be entire species or ecosystems in which individual animals matter little. Nature’s custodians often seek to conserve supposedly pure and unaltered states of nature, whereas cultural stewards have long accepted the inevitability of modifications to the heritage over time. But how successful are both fields of conservation in practice? 80 C. Holtorf & O. Ortman

Figure 3 The saved carving of Hoghem in captivity. (Photo: Oscar Ortman.)

Conservation—Can it Work?

In order to evaluate natural and cultural conservation strategies we need to zoom out from Bohuslän and adopt a broader perspective. First we will look at zoos. There are several reasons why, ultimately, the discourse associated with Noah’s Ark must fail. Firstly, the Ark is far too small. According to one estimate, about 5,400 animal species were threatened with extinction in 1995. But even if all the world’s professionally oper- ated zoos—working together and under perfect conditions—devoted half of their entire facilities to breeding endangered animals they could manage no more than about 800, or less than 15%, viable breeding populations.17 Secondly, the number of species that zoos have successfully reintroduced into the wild is tiny. Most such schemes fail and the animals die. According to one set of statistics, of a total of 145 such projects, only 16 were successful and only some of these included zoo-bred animals.18 Among the few successful projects that are constantly referred to are reintroductions of the Przewalski horse, the Arabian oryx, the plains and wood bison, and the golden lion-tamarins. In the case of the Brazilian golden lion-tamarin, however, many animals released into the wild suffered horri- ble deaths as a result of their inevitable incompetence in the new environment. Between 1983 and 1989 their reintroduction programme cost over $1 million, or $22,563 per surviving reintroduced animal. This points to an ethical dilemma, which International Journal of Heritage Studies 81 represents a third problem: although it is imperative to consider the overall purpose and context of any such project in detail, just imagine for one minute how many human lives in the same country could have been substantially improved for the same money.19 Fourthly, the truth is that the vast majority of zoo animals and their offspring will never leave the Ark. Either they are not threatened in the wild anyway, or the required habitats cannot be recreated because they have already changed irreversibly. A decade ago, only 5–10% of the space available in zoos was allocated to endangered species. This is in large parts because zoo managers are keen to display their visitors’ favourite animal species, also known as the ‘charismatic megafauna’.20 According to Desmond Morris, the popularity of an animal is directly correlated with the number of anthropomorphic features it possesses (hair, rounded outlines, flat faces, facial expressions, the ability to manipulate small objects, vertical posture).21 Although more than 95% of all animals on this planet are each small enough to fit into a cupped hand, most of them are unknown in zoos. Zoo visitors, and therefore zoo managers, prefer lions, tigers, bears, apes and monkeys, elephants, penguins and sea lions. Unsurprisingly, some of the largest zoo conservation projects concentrate on popular mammal species such as tigers, gorillas, and rhinos, whereas other threatened species are marginalised.22 Finally, zoos ultimately need human visitors more than humanity (and indeed nature) needs zoos. Ironically, as David Hancocks, director of Australia’s Open Range Zoo at Werribee, has put it: ‘most zoo breeding programs are aimed more toward conservation of zoo collections than to conservation of the world’s endangered wildlife’.23 It appears that zoo managers emphasise conservation in the wild mostly to satisfy the ‘Green’ concerns of their visitors. Looking at the larger picture of animal extinctions, it may, however, be grossly misleading to suggest that we are losing wild animal species at alarming rates at all. As Björn Lomborg has argued in a polemical treatise entitled The Sceptical Environmentalist, never before have there been as many species on this Earth as there are now. At the same time, it is estimated that more than 95% of all species that have ever existed are now extinct. Seen against a natural extinction rate of about two species every decade, the fact that since 1600 we have actually lost about 25 species every decade can hardly be called alarming. Even when taking into account that the extinction rate is on its way up, Lomborg predicts an extinction rate no higher than 0.7% over the next 50 years. This is not trivial but hardly the kind of ‘catastrophic’ figure often quoted. In the overall picture, we may still see more species emerging than we are losing.24 How much of this applies even to the conservation of archaeological sites? Firstly, if zoos are too few and too small to make any significant difference in conserving endangered animal species, the problem is even worse as far as the conservation of archaeological finds is concerned. Even large museums have for some time been struggling to accept all new artefacts rescued through excavations, and some have long ago stopped accession altogether.25 Revealing is an account of how the Florida Museum of Natural History, which even collects archaeological artefacts, tried to handle the situation: 82 C. Holtorf & O. Ortman Another tactic meant to discourage the depositing of new collections was to charge for the ink, boxes, cabinets, file folders, and the staff needed to curate artefacts and records. But still the materials came.26 Preserving sites in situ, or reintroducing artefacts into the ground, is not a sustainable alternative. As with natural habitat destruction, irreversible changes, such as sinking groundwater levels, negatively affect the environment of archaeological sites. What is more, given the legal and financial frameworks within which archaeology operates today, chances are that so many sites are decaying rapidly in the ground that even if one tried they could not all be rescued from above in time. Moreover, pressures on the land can be enormous and local councils cannot be expected always to put the conservation of archaeological sites at a higher priority than much-needed economic development. Secondly, there is the principal question of whether there really is a point in conserving large numbers of archaeological finds and sites for unknown needs of unspecified future generations. How much are we prepared to sacrifice for the good of future generations? It is quite impossible to know that future generations will be grateful to us for conserving vast amounts of ancient material culture.27 Their preferences will by definition always remain unknown since the future can never be present. But if one wants to risk any prediction at all, human beings of the future are likely to be materially better off than we are today and thus economically less deserv- ing than we are ourselves.28 Accordingly, the British archaeologist Neil Faulkner argues against Ark-eology, advocating instead to use cultural ‘resources’ as people see

fit today:

The notion that we should save everything for the future when techniques will be better is a transparent absurdity, since the future, by definition, can never come … to impose this policy on field research is an act of academic vandalism whose effect is to empower state officialdom at the expense of the people to whom the heritage truly belongs.29

Thirdly, it is also politically, economically, and ethically debatable whether it is right, despite many urgent present-day needs and various legitimate interests in consuming ancient sites, to spend scarce public resources on the presumed interests of future generations. Fourthly, archaeologists, too, are very selective in their preferences for what is to be conserved. Although ultimately anything constructed or changed by humans is significant as cultural heritage and arguably worth conserving—just as in nature every species matters—in practice things are different. Particularly charismatic sites attract- ing a lot of public support, including churches, castles, memorials, and ancient tombs, are far more likely to become scheduled sites of cultural heritage than are sites associated with the modern industrial age, for example. The discussion about the preservation of old football pitches is an illustrative example. As the Swedish archaeologist Håkan Karlsson recently argued, there was considerable resistance among Swedish heritage authorities against listing the earliest football pitches of Gothenburg when their final remains were at risk of being obliterated completely.30 Although football has always been the most popular sport in Sweden, its heritage is badly neglected. The International Journal of Heritage Studies 83 locations of the first generation of football pitches, dating to the late 19th century, have by now often changed into industrial wasteland or industrial storage yards—and their contemporary atmosphere (or lack thereof) probably contributed to the lukewarm interest among heritage officials. Recently, Gamla Ullevi, a football stadium in central Gothenburg built in 1913 and rich in tradition, was not listed as a historic site by the regional authorities even though both the city council and one of the football clubs were in favour. It was demolished in spring 2007. Similar imbalances exist at the world level too. World Heritage Sites are in fact anything but representative of the heritage of the world. Henry Cleere, a longstand- ing member of the World Heritage Committee, stated plainly that the list is ‘skewed and unrepresentative’, because ‘for the World Heritage Committee, culture manifests itself principally in the form of archaeological sites and monuments from classical Greece and Roman, European architecture from the later Middle Ages to neoclassicism, and the art and architecture of the Indian sub-continent and imperial China’.31 One problem is now being addressed but has by no means been resolved. Finally, as with zoos, successful management of the cultural heritage ultimately needs supportive human beings more than vice versa. Nobody could argue in principle against saving irreplaceable resources and minimising destruction on this planet. The question is, however, whether or not the archaeological sites that we may be losing are indeed irreplaceable. As Alan Peacock has put it: ‘we should not assume that the “non- reproducible” is necessarily “irreplaceable”’.32 In the same way that the overall number of species is growing with increasing specialisation over time, the number of archaeological sites too is growing over time. In 1995, England had more than 657,000 registered archaeological sites—this number having increased by 117% since 1983— and its archaeological sites and monuments records were expected to contain over one million entries by 2000. Between 1983 and 1995, on average nearly 100 entries were added to the records daily, while only one site per day has been lost since 1945.33 The trend is therefore not that we will one day have no archaeological sites and monuments left, but that in the future more and more of our surroundings will be recorded as some sort of historical (or natural) site worthy of preservation. In any case, the mere number of preserved archaeological sites bears hardly any relation to the quality of the cultural heritage and the extent of historical knowledge and consciousness in any given society, and surely that is what should matter most.34

The Desire to Care Is the archaeologists’ rhetoric of conservation more than a clever attempt to jump on the ‘Green’ bandwagon of the ubiquitous environmentalism and conservation ethic, hoping to attract additional public support and legitimacy for archaeology and cultural heritage management? The answer must be both yes and no. On the one hand, natural and cultural heritage managers do share some real concerns, for example regarding long-term environmental trends and their likely consequences. Experts from both fields are successfully collaborating in developing effective 84 C. Holtorf & O. Ortman conservation strategies covering both natural and cultural heritage which more often than not turn out to be inseparably linked.35 In some cases, both domains comple- ment each other. For example, London Zoo has produced a leaflet on its ‘Animal Architecture’ featuring some of its historic buildings and other constructions, many of which are officially listed as part of the national heritage.36 The zoo’s slogans apply as effortlessly to the architecture as to the animals: ‘Conservation in action’ and ‘Living conservation’. Some zoos also incorporate historic sites that pre-date the zoo (e.g. a castle at Dudley Zoo in the UK and various prehistoric remains inside Gute Zoo in Gotland, Sweden). Furuvik amusement park near Gävle in Sweden offers not only the thrill of observing exotic animals, including some endangered species, but even a few reconstructed huts from the Mesolithic, copies of rare ancient artefacts, and a popular ride themed on a fictitious Stone Age family well known to Swedish children (Barnen Hedenhös). On the other hand, however, there is the fact that anything associated with either natural or cultural heritage gains considerable currency, goodwill and material support if linked to notions of endangered existence and a need for conservation. In general terms, that is true for archaeology and zoos too. The American historian Nigel Rothfels has argued accordingly that ‘for the logic of the zoo to hold together, zoos must become the last, best hope of the world’s threatened fauna’.37 Given the ubiquity of the term ‘conservation’ in contemporary zoos, the overwhelming majority of their directors evidently agree with Rothfels. According to the American literary scholar and writer Charles Bergman, caring for endangered animals is in fact a way of marginalising and controlling them. He argues that in reality we do not prefer endangered animals to be abundant. Instead, they are purposeful creations of our culture and valued as symbols of our preferred relationship to nature:

I have begun to think that we actually want creatures endangered, paradoxically as that sounds. We want them on the margins, someplace between extinct and abundant. They are the external images that call us to rethink our relationship. They call us to the quest for new ways of imaging animals.38

The physicist Martin Krieger once made a similar argument regarding wilderness and rare environments. Reminding us that the notion of wilderness originated in cities, he claimed that ‘wilderness, as we think of it now, is the product of a political effort to give a special meaning to a biological system organized in a specific way.’ By the same token, ‘rare environments are relative, can be created, are dependent on our knowledge, and are a function of policy, not only tradition’.39 Their carefully managed marginal state of existence thus gives animals and landscapes value—and it gives humans the opportunity to fulfil their own desires by contributing to the animals’ perpetual rescue, for example by visiting National Parks or zoos. Such institutions correspond directly to ‘our narcissistic desire to feel like we are grandiose heroes and saviors, on the side of right’.40 That desire is very real. Indeed, the Danish futurologist Rolf Jensen identifies ‘Care’ as one of the most important themes shaping our society and indeed economy. Products that are associated with stories about caring sell well, for ‘people have a need to provide care’.41 International Journal of Heritage Studies 85 According to Jensen, this desire to care manifests itself not only very directly in the popularity of pets in people’s homes but also indirectly in the amount of money regu- larly donated to charities by major companies. For example, McDonald’s actively supports Ronald McDonald House Charities ‘working to better the lives of children and their families around the world’. By the same token, at several of Disney’s theme parks visitors can add a dollar to the price of merchandise in support of a Disney fund for the environment. Both companies evidently hope to be ‘doing well, by doing good’.42 Arguably, parts of the ‘Green’ movement and the popularity of campaigns to protect wildlife fit the same pattern (see Figure 4). Whipsnade Wild Animal Park near London in the UK, for example, put up a large board making its visitors feel good by supplying the following information: ‘What are YOU doing to help? … By paying your entrance fee you have directly supported Whipsnade Wild Animal Park and our conservation work.’ Figure 4 BanhamIs, Zoo doing accordingly,well by doing good? (Photo: Cornelius Holtorf, 2002.) the conservation of the world’s threatened cultural heritage an opportunity for humans to fulfil the same desire to care? When the Archaeological Conservancy asks Americans to help ‘make a real difference in the race to save America’s cultural treasures’, many of them take the opportunity thankfully.43 But is cultural conservation also the last, best hope for the logic of archaeology to hold together? Resembling Bergman’s argument regarding wild animals, the British archaeologist Sarah May argues that endangerment domesticates a potentially dangerous past:

Figure 4 Banham Zoo doing well by doing good? (Photo: Cornelius Holtorf, 2002.) 86 C. Holtorf & O. Ortman Like zookeepers, professional archaeologists always highlight how rare and vulnerable the material they study is. This shifts the focus from the intellectual and emotional results of our work to the need to protect it. This can neutralise uncomfortable political aspects of argument so that learning from the past becomes less important than ‘saving the past for our future’.44 May goes on to claim that we exert dominance over the past by allowing its destruction and simultaneously demanding its preservation. As our appeals for the value of the cultural heritage tend to focus on its beauty and rarity we evoke affection for the material, effectively treating the past like an admired but vulnerable pet. Since we like to care for pets we prefer the past to be at risk. This is echoed even in the principles of rescue archaeology emphasising a past that is fragile, cannot be replaced and needs our help. Current legislation in many countries supports a great deal of archaeology on the basis that archaeological remains are threatened and vulnerable but at the same time so valuable that if their destruction through development is unavoidable the developer will need to pay for full excavations. The British Planning Policy Guidance: Note number 16 (known as PPG 16) thus argues as follows:

Archaeological remains should be seen as a finite and non-renewable resource, in many cases highly fragile and vulnerable to damage and destruction. Appropriate management is therefore essential to ensure that they survive in good condition. In particular, care must be taken to ensure that archaeological remains are not needlessly or thoughtlessly destroyed. They can contain irreplaceable information about our past and the potential for an increase in future knowledge. They are part of our sense of

national identity and are valuable both for their own sake and for their role in education, leisure and tourism … If physical preservation in situ is not feasible, an archaeological excavation for the purposes of ‘preservation by record’, may be an acceptable alternative … Where planning authorities decide that the physical preservation in situ of archaeological remains is not justified in the circumstances of the case and that development resulting in the destruction of the archaeological remains should proceed, it would be entirely reasonable for the planning authority to satisfy itself before granting planning permission, that the developer has made appropriate and satisfactory provision for the excavation and recording of the remains.45 The largest part of archaeological excavations taking place today is due to this kind of rescue mission, and the majority of living archaeologists is employed for this purpose. ‘Finite’, ‘non-renewable’, ‘fragile’, ‘vulnerable’, ‘irreplaceable’, ‘destruction’, ‘valuable’, ‘preservation’ and ‘survive’ are the vocabulary of rescue archaeology, reoccurring frequently. In the conservation ethos, the first six terms in this list have almost in themselves become justification for the final three. Modifying a statement by the British heritage expert John Carman, one might even say that archaeological sites are not being saved because they are valued, but rather they are valued because they are being saved.46

The Noah Complex of our Age In conclusion, we wish to state that the idea and reality of conserving endangered specimens for the future are problematic, both regarding the natural heritage in zoos and International Journal of Heritage Studies 87 the cultural heritage on archaeological sites. The discourse and rhetoric of conservation emphasising threats of endangered existence in natural and cultural heritage is not only—and may be not even primarily—about global survival and the legitimate interests of future generations. Visiting zoos and archaeological sites or museums provides much-desired opportunities for people to gain satisfaction by supporting associated conservation schemes. The bodies which run these places are in turn among those that benefit most from the currency of the conservation ethos. To what extent conservation itself benefits from the conservation ethos is not clear. As wild animals are becoming something ‘we care for rather than treat with care’, the successes of managing wildlife conservation and thus the illusion of being in control may actually aggravate the problem to be solved in the first place.47 Moreover, it may be counterproductive to become too good at conserving heritage. Since future generations may perceive as less valuable what is less rare, they might become less appreciative and careful towards abundant heritage than they would otherwise have been—effectively rendering our own conservation efforts meaningless.48 Whether or not natural and cultural conservation will create a better future for future generations of human beings (or animals), it is evident that the conservation ethos has had a huge influence on the way we think and live today, far beyond the specific cases of zoos and archaeology. Some commentators have been observing ‘an official cult of historic heritage’ and have diagnosed a ‘Noah complex’ of excessive conservation in our age, bringing about a generation of both citizens and experts that are increasingly unable to get to grips with some inevitable, unstoppable, and indeed desirable processes of extinction and destruction.49 The brilliant RESCUE campaign (see Figure 2) today has a decisive flair of the 1970s about it. It might not be long before the ideas of rescue and conservation as such will have become a valuable—and by then perhaps threatened—part of our cultural heritage.

Acknowledgements Many of the ideas contained in this paper have been developed in the context of presen- tations and discussions taking place within the Archaeology of Zoos project, and we would like to acknowledge the input of the other members: Tony Axelsson, Kathryn Denning, Koen Margodt, Sarah May, David Van Reybrouck, Christina Wessely, and Sofia Åkerberg. We are grateful to Bonnie Hallman, Dan Hicks, Andrew Shapland, Amy Stockwell, and three reviewers for commenting constructively upon earlier versions of this paper, and to Chris Cumberpatch (representing RESCUE), for permission to use Figure 2.

Notes

1 [1] Although a historical analysis of the links between the conservation movements in natural and cultural heritage might be revealing too, the present paper focuses on their discourses in the present (but see Davis, Museums and the Natural Environment; Lowenthal, ‘Natural and Cultural Heritage’). 88 C. Holtorf & O. Ortman

2 [2] Brower, ‘Djurparkerna i Europa bevarar hotade arter’, 44. 3 [3] Croke, The Modern Ark; Rothfels, Savages and Beasts, 175. 4 [4] Rothfels, Savages and Beasts, 175. 5 [5] http://www.nordensark.se [accessed 20 April 2007]. 6 [6] Description of Conservation Station at Disney’s Animal Kingdom webpage http:// disneyworld.disney.go.com [accessed 16 April 2003]; K. Sanes, Disney’s Distorted Mirror [accessed 20 April 2007], available from http://www.transparencynow.com/Disney/ distable1.htm 7 [7] Davis, Museums and the Natural Environment. 8 [8] Darvill and Fulton, The Monuments at Risk Survey of England 1995, 13–14. 9 [9] Kallhovd and Magnusson, Rock Carvings in the Borderlands, 74. [10]10 http://noahsark.isac.cnr.it [accessed 20 April 2007]. [11]11 Lowenthal, ‘Natural and Cultural Heritage’, 85; Hollowell, ‘Moral Arguments on Subsistence Digging’, 83–84. See also Choay, The Invention of the Historic Monument, and, in particular, Wylie, ‘The Promise and Perils of an Ethic of Stewardship’, describing the ‘conservation ethic’ and the ‘stewardship principle’ in archaeological heritage management. [12]12 Bell, ‘Archaeology and Green Issues’, 510; Wylie, ‘The Promise and Perils of an Ethic of Stewardship’, dates the beginning of the ‘conservation ethic’ in the USA to the early 1970s. However, in 1989 Greeves, ‘Archaeology and the Green Movement’, did not yet see realised the true potential of archaeology’s contribution to the conservation debate. [13]13 http://www.rescue-archaeology.freeserve.co.uk [accessed 20 April 2007]. [14]14 http://www.americanarchaeology.com/aaabout.html [accessed 20 April 2007]. [15]15 Beck, ‘A Bill of Rights for Works of Art’. [16]16 Lowenthal, ‘Natural and Cultural Heritage’, 87–89; for a brief historical perspective, see Carman, Valuing Ancient Things, 108–9. [17]17 Hancocks, A Different Nature, 152.

[18]18 Beck, ‘Reintroduction, Zoos, Conservation, and Animal Welfare’. [19]19 Ibid.; Margodt, The Welfare Ark, 88; Loftin, ‘Captive Breeding of Endangered Species’, 171– 72; cf. Lomborg, The Sceptical Environmentalist, 338–42. [20]20 Margodt, The Welfare Ark, 90; Hancocks, ‘Lions and Tigers and Tears, Oh No!’ [21]21 Morris, The Naked Ape. [22]22 Hancocks, A Different Nature, 165; Hancocks, ‘Lions and Tigers and Tears, Oh No!’, 34. [23]23 Hancocks, A Different Nature, 158. [24]24 Lomborg, The Sceptical Environmentalist, chap. 23. [25]25 Thomas, ‘Drowning in data?’; C. Robbins, ‘No Room for Riches of the Indian Past’, The New York Times, 24 November 2001. [26]26 J. Milanich, ‘Homeless Collections’, Archaeology Magazine, November/December 2005, 57–64 (58). [27]27 Moore, Museums and Popular Culture, 31. [28]28 Peacock, ‘Preserving the Past’, 7. [29]29 Faulkner, ‘Archaeology from Below’, 30; see also Holtorf, ‘Can Less be More?’ [30]30 Karlsson, Försummat kulturarv. [31]31 Cleere, ‘The Uneasy Bedfellows’, 25–26. [32]32 Peacock, ‘Preserving the Past’, 3. [33]33 Darvill and Fulton, The Monuments at Risk Survey of England 1995, 233–36. In some ways, the archaeological heritage is thus renewable, see also Carman, Valuing Ancient Things, 7; Holtorf, From Stonehenge to Las Vegas, chap. 8. [34]34 Holtorf, From Stonehenge to Las Vegas, 132–35. [35]35 Greeves, ‘Archaeology and the Green Movement’; Bell, ‘Archaeology and Green Issues’. [36]36 See also http://www.zsl.org/info/about-us/zoo-architecture,103,AR.html [accessed 20 April 2007]. Similarly, Berlin Zoo offers guided tours of the zoo’s architecture (http://www.zoo- berlin.de/erleben/themenfuehrungen.html [accessed 20 April 2007]). International Journal of Heritage Studies 89

[37]37 Rothfels, ‘Immersed with Animals’, 220; cf. Croke, The Modern Ark, 243–45. [38]38 Bergman, Wild Echoes, xi–xii. [39]39 Krieger, ‘What’s Wrong with Plastic Trees?’, 448, 453. [40]40 K. Sanes, Disney’s Distorted Mirror [accessed 20 April 2007], available from http://www.transparencynow.com/Disney/distable1.htm [41]41 Jensen, The Dream Society, 76; see also Holtorf, Archaeology is a Brand!, 6–10, 130–33. [42]42 http://www.rmhc.org/rmhc/index/about.html [accessed 20 April 2007]; K. Sanes, Disney’s Distorted Mirror [accessed 20 April 2007], available from http://www.transparencynow.com/ Disney/distable1.htm; Jensen, The Dream Society, 79. [43]43 http://www.americanarchaeology.com/aamembership.html [accessed 20 April 2007]; see also Holtorf, Archaeology is a Brand!, 91–95. [44]44 May, ‘Then Tyger Fierce Took Life Away’. [45]45 Cited from http://www.communities.gov.uk/index.asp?id=1144057 [accessed 20 April 2007]. [46]46 Carman, Valuing Ancient Things, 115. [47]47 May, ‘Then Tyger Fierce Took Life Away’; Bergman, ‘Inventing a Beast with No Body’; Loftin, ‘Captive Breeding of Endangered Species’, 169–70. [48]48 Krieger, ‘What’s Wrong with Plastic Trees?’, 453. [49]49 Choay, The Invention of the Historic Monument, 141–42; Holtorf, ‘Can Less be More?’; see also Lomborg, The Sceptical Environmentalist.

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