white, the clactonian question

Journal of World Prehistory, Vol. 14, No. 1, 2000

The Clactonian Question: On the Interpretationof Core-and-Flake Assemblages in the BritishLower Paleolithic

Mark J. White1

In recent years, the nature, significance, and validity of the British core-and-flake assemblage known as the Clactonian have come under close scrutiny.More traditional ideas, which see the Clactonian as the product of a distinct,non-handax-making technical tradition, are being challenged by notions ofa single European knapping repertoire in which the proportion of handaxesvaries according to factors such as activity facies, local raw material potential,and landscape use. Furthermore, recent technological studies which show abasic technological parity between the Acheulean and the Clactonian, includ-ing claims for rare atypical bifaces within the Clactonian, have been arguedas eroding the very rationale for seeing the Clactonian as a separate entity.These challenges have gained widespread acceptance, despite a lack of empiri-cal support in some cases, questionable conclusions, and hints of a widelyignored, yet intriguing chronological recurrence. A review of the empiricalbasis and interpretation of the Clactonian, in both recent years and the recentpast, suggests that the Clactonian is in danger of being explained away, ratherthan explained.

KEY WORDS: Lower Paleolithic; Clactonian; Acheulean; core-and-flake technology; hand-axes; Britain.

INTRODUCTION

The European Lower Paleolithic is traditionally divided into two lithicassemblage types: assemblages with handaxes, generally assigned to the

1Department of Archaeology, University of Durham, Science Site, South Road, Durham,England DH1 3LE. e-mail: [email protected].

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0892-7537/00/0300-0001$18.00/0 2000 Plenum Publishing Corporation

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Acheulean technocomplex; and nonhandax (core-and-flake) assemblages,variously interpreted as being either flake- or core-tool based and knownby a number of local or regional names. Assessing the meaning of thesevariants, examining their relationship and determining the significance ofthe presence/absence of a single tool form, the handax, has dominatedmuch Lower Paleolithic research for the better part of a century.

This paper reviews the historical development and modern interpreta-tions of the most famous of these core-and-flake industries, the Clactonian.Firstdefinedonartifactscollected fromClacton-on-Sea,Essex,England,dur-ing the early 1900s, the Clactonian is arguably the archetypal core-and-flakeassemblage for the European Lower Paleolithic (Fig. 1). Almost all othernonhandax assemblages have at one time been compared or assigned to it; ithas given its name to a specific tool type—the Clactonian notch—found innumerous Lower and Middle Paleolithic contexts; and the name is still occa-sionally used to describe a method of flaking and its products (e.g., Otte etal., 1998). Yet behind this apparent consensus lies no consensus at all.

The classic definition of the Clactonian, familiar to most prehistorians,can be summarized thus.

1. The Clactonian is a technologically distinct, primitive core-and-flakeassemblage which contains chopper-cores and unstandardized flake-tools but definitively lacks handaxes. The use of anvil techniqueis common.

2. The Clactonian represents the earliest occupation of Britain.3. The Clactonian represents the products of a habitually non-handax-

making culture-group which has no close affinities with the Acheu-lean but is related to the chopper/chopping-tool industries of Asia.

4. The Clactonian entered Britain from the east, via central Europe andAsia, and was replaced by different culture-groups (or even racialforms) from southern Europe who habitually produced handaxes.

For the past 20 years this traditional interpretation has been increasinglyquestioned. Informed by higher-resolution Quaternary frameworks, ever-changing theoretical paradigms, new discoveries, and new empirical analy-ses of old collections, modern generations of workers are questioning notonly the orthodox interpretations and cultural designations of the Clacton-ian, but its very existence. Thus far, this ‘‘Clactonian debate’’ seems tohave had little impact outside the shores of Britain, assuming somethingof a parochial air. Yet the issues at stake actually impact upon the interpreta-tion of Middle Pleistocene core-and-flake versus handax assemblages acrossthe entire Old World, encompassing a wide variety of empirical and theoret-ical approaches. In short, the study of the Clactonian is a virtual precis ofLower Paleolithic lithic research, both today and in the recent past.

The Clactonian Question 3

Fig. 1. Clactonian artifacts from the type-site at Clacton-on-Sea. (1) Notched flake; (2) workedflake; (3) ‘‘bill-hook’’ form; (4) side-scraper; (5) biconical core; (6) chopper-core; (7) protobi-face core; (8) flake; (9) denticulate; (10) bifacial denticulate. [1–4 and 6–10, after Wymer(1985), reproduced with the kind permission of J. J. Wymer; 5, after Bridgland et al. (1999),reproduced by permission of Elsevier Publishing.]

The paper is presented in three broad sections. The first is a historyof research into the Clactonian, presenting key developments in a contem-porary light to engender an understanding of how critical concepts evolvedin league with prevailing changes in archaeological thought to produce thedefinition most familiar today. This section is essential for a full appreciation

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of the modern Clactonian debate. The second section attempts to providea modern synthesis of the Clactonian in view of more recent Quaternaryframeworks and empirical analyses and includes a brief gazetteer of themost important Clactonian sites. The final section offers a critical appraisalof the interpretations that have been presented over the past 25 years toexplain the Clactonian.

THE HISTORY OF THE CLACTONIAN

Genesis, 1912–1932

The Clactonian was delivered unto an archaeological world emergingfrom its own infancy. Until well into the early 1920s, Paleolithic theory wasstill somewhat dominated by the unilinear framework devised and modifiedby de Mortillet (e.g., 1872, 1883) during the late nineteenth century. Thisadvocated a progressive cultural evolution through a series of universal‘‘epochs,’’ with each epoch being defined on the basis of supposedly diagnos-tic type-fossils. The three earlier Paleolithic epochs eventually recognizedin De Mortillet’s scheme—Chellean, Acheulean, and Mousterian—weremore-or-less characterized by various expressions of the handax: seen ini-tially to increase in sophistication, but later to diminish in importance andgive way to a dominance of fine flake-tools, as found in many cave sites.Accordingly, many British antiquarians of the late nineteenth and earlytwentieth centuries concentrated their efforts on the accumulation of largenumbers of handaxes, considered the most useful implements for classifyingtheir open-air sites as well as the most aesthetically pleasing. As antiquariansoften amassed their collections by buying artifacts from quarry-workers,simple flakes and cores, unprized by collectors and therefore valueless toquarrymen, went largely unnoticed. So when, in the latter years of thenineteenth century, humanly struck flakes were found in the Elephas anti-quus beds at Clacton-on-Sea—deposits well known for over half a centuryfor their rich Pleistocene fauna (e.g., Brown, 1839, 1841)—they meritedonly a couple of lines in a local journal (Kenworthy, 1898).

By the early 1910s, however, extensive field observations on the Clac-ton deposits by Samuel Hazzledene Warren (1911a, b, 1912) had beenrewarded by the discovery of a large collection of flint artifacts and the pointof a broken wooden spear, recovered mostly from exposures of Pleistocenefreshwater beds on the foreshore. The first of Warren’s (1912, p. 15) manystatements on the Clacton industry noted that it was dominated by un-trimmed flakes, scrapers, pseudo-Mousterian trimmed flakes, and side-choppers, but that


not a single example of the usual ovate or pointed Palaeolithic types has yet beenfound, either by myself, or by other workers, so far as I am aware.

The yet in this statement shows that Warren had expected to find handaxeseventually. In their absence he found it impossible to classify the materialaccording to the prevailing framework and so concluded only that theywere Paleolithic but not true Mousterian.

The following year, another core-and-flake assemblage was discoveredin the Lower Gravel at Barnfield Pit, Swanscombe, Kent, stratified belowthe handax-yielding Middle Gravel (Smith and Dewey, 1913). As theseexcavations were commissioned to investigate whether the Swanscombesequence contained a succession of handax industries similar to that foundin the Somme Valley (it did), the unexpected core-and-flake industry re-ceived only scant attention:

The human work . . . was a surprise both as to its quantity and quality. . . .The industry consisted almost exclusively of thick flakes, with prominent bulbs ofpercussion and a minimum of flaking . . . handaxes of the ordinary type wereentirely wanting. (Smith and Dewey, 1913, p. 182)

Comparable assemblages were subsequently found at Little Thurrock, Es-sex [by B. O. Wymer in about 1914 (see J. Wymer, 1968)] and in the ShellyBeds at Dierden’s Pit (Ingress Vale), Swanscombe, the latter situated at asimilar height to the Lower Gravel and Lower Loam in the Barnfield Pit(Smith and Dewey, 1914). Handaxes had already been reported from In-gress Vale, but Smith and Dewey suggested that they had encountered apocket of older gravel surrounded by younger, handax-bearing deposits.Later work refuted this claim, with handax elements being found in reexpo-sures of Smith and Dewey’s original sections and mollusks with Rhenishaffinities being recovered from the shell bed, the latter suggesting a correla-tion with the Middle Gravel at Barnfield Pit rather than the Lower Gravel(Kennard, 1916; Kerney, 1959, cited by Bridgland, 1994). Still, Smith andDewey were here clearly toying with the notion that nonhandax assem-blages belonged to an earlier stage of the Paleolithic than the handax ones.Cynics may see this as an attempt both to match the Ingress Vale sequencewith that at Barnfield Pit and to reconcile the data with the Mortillean andeolithic frameworks seemingly favored by Smith (e.g., British Museum,1921) by placing all the Swanscombe core-and-flake assemblages earlierthan the handaxes and thus between the eolithic and the Chellean. Indeed,it was not the overall Paleolithic character of the cores and flakes that wasconfounding (these were even noted to resemble those from the handax-rich Middle Gravel at Barnfield Pit) but the total lack of ‘‘true Palaeolithicimplements’’ (Smith and Dewey, 1914, p. 92).

If the initial response to these ‘‘anomalies’’ was underwhelming, theywould eventually take a central role in the changing frameworks used to

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interpret Paleolithic materials. During the early 1920s, Warren received avisit from Abbe Henri Breuil, who assigned the growing collections fromClacton to the Mesvinian, named after the eponymous site of Mesvin,Belgium (Warren, 1922). Warren was deeply influenced by Breuil, who, inleague with developments in later periods, had abandoned the monolithicMortillean framework in favor of multiple stone tool industries that corre-sponded to both temporal and geographical (cultural) variation. Warren(1922) seems to have accepted this immediately; he was finally able to reacha conclusion regarding the affinities of his Clacton finds and, in doing so,introduced several key concepts.

1. The Clacton–Mesvinian belonged to a separate industrial traditionfrom the handax cultures of the Chellean–Acheulean lineage (War-ren, 1922, 1926, 1932). While he could suggest no antecedent forthe Clacton–Mesvinian itself, he saw it as the precursor to theMousterian, with Levallois industries forming the evolutionarybridge between them (Warren, 1922, 1923, 1924). From his readingof the Thames terrace sequence, Warren (1923) suggested that thetwo traditions had coexisted over a long period but had followedtheir own unique trajectory.

2. In a statement that was to be echoed by many later workers (Breuil,1932; Oakley and Leakey, 1937), Warren (1924) also advanced thenotion that different human ‘‘races’’ had created these two industrialtraditions—the Clacton–Mesvinian being made by Neanderthals,a primitive side-branch to evolution associated with the FrenchMousterian, and the Chellean–Acheulean the product of contempo-rary humans.

3. The Clacton–Mesvinian was a chopper-based industry, these chop-pers having zigzag alternately flaked edges opposite a cortical ornaturally flat hand-grip (Warren, 1923, 1924). In defending his chop-per interpretation against the rejoinder that they were just cores,Warren (1932) maintained that (i) they were always flaked to pro-duce a segmental edge balanced by the hand-grip, (ii) the flakesstruck from them would have been practically useless, and (iii) otherobjects in the Clacton assemblage demonstrated that the makerswere well acquainted with the production of large flakes and so didnot need those struck from the choppers.

4. He considered and rejected the idea that the Clacton–Mesvinianrepresented preliminary working sites where handaxes were madeand then removed for use elsewhere, maintaining the Clacton siteto be the remnants of a living floor beside a stream where anextremely primitive industry had been produced (Warren, 1922).


5. The Clacton-Mesvinian contained ‘‘clumsy pointed implements,which might be considered unsuccessful attempts to copy theChellean implement’’ (Warren, 1922, p. 598). In later writings,Warren (1951) termed these ‘‘proto-bouchers’’ (protohandaxes),stating that had they not been found in Clactonian contextsthey would have been classified as crude handaxes. This oftenoverlooked observation is vital in assessing several aspects of themodern debate.

The Mesvinian label did not last long. Continued work on the Mesvintype-site by Breuil (1926) led him to suggest that its archaeology shouldactually be divided into two industries, separated on the basis of strati-graphic position and technology. Only the more recent of the two, whichcontained Levallois elements, was considered true Mesvinian, the otherbeing more ancient and lacking platform preparation. As Breuil comparedthe Clacton finds with the older Mesvin series, they could not, by definition,be Mesvinian. Breuil, however, elected not to offer a new name for eitherthe Clacton material or the associated Mesvin lower industry at this point.It was Warren (1926) who proposed the name ‘‘Clactonian’’ in a footnoteafter reading Breuil’s withdrawal of the Mesvinian label.

By the early 1930s, the idea of a separate Clactonian industry wasbecoming common currency and the number of assemblages assigned to itgrew. The most significant additions came from Chandler’s studies of theLower Gravel industries from Barnfield Pit and Rickson’s Pit, Swanscombe(Chandler, 1930, 1931, 1932a, b). Chandler reiterated Warren’s opinion(contra Breuil) that the Clactonian was essentially chopper-based (Chan-dler, 1932a) (see Table I) and, furthermore, subdivided the Lower Gravelmaterial into evolutionary substages, Clactonian I and II, based on thepresence of two series (one abraded, the other fresh) with slightly con-trasting characteristics (Chandler, 1931). Warren (1932) too began compar-ing Swanscombe and Clacton, revising his earlier opinion that the depositsat Clacton represented a tributary of the Thames and assigning them insteadto the main river, thereby establishing a direct link between the two sites.Differences in their relative heights and aspects of their faunas were takento indicate that the basal Swanscombe deposits were older than the Clactonbeds—an argument putatively supported by the use of ‘‘cruder’’ techniquesand the lack of small pointed forms in the Swanscombe Clactonian, whichwas therefore considered to be the ancestral form.

The position of the Clactonian was ultimately secured by Breuil (1932)in a seminal paper that effectively set the agenda for the next 40 years.Breuil, who had already profoundly influenced the thinking of Warren,Chandler, and a host of other British prehistorians, supported the idea [or

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Table I. Some Key Typologies for the Clactonian

Warren (1922, 1923, 1924) Paterson (1937)

Large flakes FlakesTrimmed flakes CoresCores, discoidal cores Choppers and hammerstonesChoppers Pointed toolsPointed implements Side-scrapers

Single & double notchesChandler (1932a) Nosed scrapers

Tools made on coresFlakes (wide & thick, high flaking angle, Multiple toolsprominent bulbs, unfaceted platforms)Cores Warren (1951)Anvils with bruised edgesChoppers Pointed nodule toolsRough handaxes ChoppersStrepy points Ax-edged toolNodules with flakes from one or two ends Discoidal forms & flake disksPeculiar tortoise cores Side-scrapers

Bill-hook formsOakley and Leakey (1937) Endscrapers

CalscrapersFlakes (as for Chandler) Bulb scrapersCores Subcrescent formsNosed scrapers Proto-Mousterian flake pointsTrilobed hollow scrapers PiercersDiscoidal and quadrilateral scrapers Flakes (broad platform, strong bulb, lowTriangular points flaking angle)Beaked points CoresButt endscrapers Anvil-stonesNotches

Wymer (1968)

Flakes (as for Warren, 1951)Cores

Pebble chopper-coresBi-conical chopper-coresProtohandax cores

Nonstandardized flake tools

perhaps originated it, although some debt is owed to Hugo Obermaier (seeNarr, 1979)] that distinct nonhandax assemblages had existed earlier thanand contemporary with handax industries, a pattern which directly contra-dicted de Mortillet’s scheme. Breuil devised an elaborate framework involv-ing several parallel cultural phyla of handax and nonhandax industries, theevolution of which was plotted against the Penck and Bruckner (1909)Alpine glacial sequence (Fig. 2). The scheme included two major substagesof the Clactonian, charting its evolution through the Gunz–Mindel andMindel–Riss interglacials to its transformation into the early Levallois and


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Languedocien industries of the late Mindel–Riss and Penultimate intergla-cials (Breuil, 1932). It also redefined the Clactonian as a flake-based indus-try—choppers were reduced to cores—and expanded the number of sitesassigned to it on a global scale. Almost instantaneously, the Clactonianhad attained international status, defining an early phase in the developmentof a major Paleolithic cultural lineage.

In Breuil’s terms, the Clactonian and Acheulean represented differentpopulations whose main ‘‘territories’’ were Northeast and Southwest Eu-rope, respectively, but which overlapped geographically at their marginsin Northern France and Southern Britain. In the latter areas, assemblageswith handaxes were argued to be generally associated with warm conditionsbut nonhandax assemblages with colder environments, which Breuil inter-preted as evidence for habitat-tracking: the different populations followingtheir preferred ecological zones (and associated fauna) north or southin response to major climatic fluctuations. This occasionally led to thestratification of interglacial assemblages with handaxes above late glacial/early interglacial nonhandax industries in the marginal areas.

Culture History and Orthodoxy, 1932–1974

Breuil’s framework was well received in Britain and many workersemployed it or at least a variant thereof (Sackett, 1991). Typological seria-tion of lithic assemblages combined with concepts of separately evolvingcultures provided archaeologists with a powerful if dubious dating mecha-nism and a seductive interpretative tool [(e.g., King and Oakley, 1936;Oakley and Leakey, 1937); see McNabb (1996b) for a summary of thestratigraphic gymnastics necessitated by the use of typological dating duringthis period and views on how data were manipulated to force them intoaccepted frameworks].

More formal definitions of what constituted a Clactonian assemblagewere also developed (Table I), deploying artifact types and attributes thatwere supposedly rarely if ever found in the Acheulean. Indeed, in anarchaeological world obsessed by type-fossils, it seems peculiar that theClactonian was for so long defined purely by their absence. Consequently,several workers began to build typological, metrical, and technologicalparameters around the Clactonian, attempting to add positive features tothe otherwise negative definition (e.g., Chandler, 1930; Warren, 1932, 1951;Oakley and Leakey, 1936; Paterson, 1937). This practice enhanced theprimitive theme and included the idea that the Clactonian was producedby the clumsy block-on-block anvil technique (Breuil, 1932; Warren, 1932;Paterson, 1937). Unfortunately, for too many within the archaeological


community of the 1930s onward, these definitions were seen not as rulesof thumb, but irrefutable markers. Few heeded the tacit warnings that notall Clactonian flakes shared the same features and that similar pieces couldbe found in Acheulean assemblages (Kelley, 1937; Warren, 1951), whileskeptics of the cultural status of the Clactonian (e.g., van Riet Lowe, 1932;Caton-Thompson, 1946) were largely overlooked. For the next 40 years,archaeologists would see Clactonian influences everywhere, arbitrarily di-viding ‘‘mixed’’ assemblages into Clactonian and Acheulean elements basedon the morphological properties of the flakes and cores (e.g., Smith, 1933;Lacaille, 1940; Paterson and Fagg, 1941; Wymer, 1956; Palmer, 1975). TheClactonian had come of age and was running amok.

The 1930s and 1940s saw several major British archaeologists becomeheavily involved in the constant juggling and shuffling of assemblages intosome sort of perceived order of events using stratigraphic, technological,and typological comparisons combined with an ingrained idea of culturalprogression. There was no doubt that the Clactonian was real; the task wasto chart its true development and relationships so that a concrete culture-history could eventually be written. Excavations at Jaywick Sands, Clacton(Oakley and Leakey, 1937), resulted in a fourfold scheme for the Clacton-ian, even though there was no hint of technological development in theClacton sequence itself. Swanscombe was considered to contain the oldestassemblages (Clactonian I and IIa), while the type-site (IIb) was argued tobe more refined and to have witnessed the development of more ‘‘resolved’’secondary working, a progression toward High Lodge (Clactonian III), withits elaborate ‘‘Mousterian-type’’ scrapers. [Ironically, High Lodge is nowknown to be pre-Anglian (Ashton et al., 1992b) and, thus, older than bothSwanscombe and Clacton.] Marston (1937) produced a different schemefor Swanscombe, dividing the Lower Gravel material into three distinctClactonian industries, separable mostly by size and condition, with anotherpresent in the Lower Loam. This conclusion was roundly rejected thefollowing year by the Swanscombe Committee (Hawkes et al., 1938), whoassigned the entirety of the Lower Gravel material to a single group, Clac-tonian IIa, with Clacton itself being IIb. At Barnham St. Gregory, Suffolk,Paterson (1937) presented details of five local variants (the BrecklandianClactonian) separable by context, condition, and typology, which showeda progressive development in technique uncontaminated by other cultures.These were overlain by an Acheulean that had exercised no influence onthe Clactonian peoples. Warren, though, remained suspicious of these serialsubdivisions (Hawkes et al., 1938, p. 31).

Concepts of interaction and acculturation between cultures encourageddeeper levels of interpretation. At Elveden, Suffolk, Paterson and Fagg(1940) found an assemblage consisting of abundant flakes and cores, but

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with a number of elegant handaxes. They termed this the Clactonian–Acheul (or Upper Brecklandian Acheul) and envisaged a scenario whereAcheulean knappers had borrowed Clactonian core-working and re-touching techniques but, lacking a life-long familiarity with these tech-niques, had applied them in a inefficient, inferior manner. Again, regardlessof warnings to the contrary, core-and-flake working and simple scraperproduction were seen as definitive Clactonian traits. A similar argumentcould also explain the High Lodge scraper industry (Clactonian III), longdeemed problematic because its ‘‘highly advanced Mousterian’’ affinitiescould not be reconciled with its stratigraphic location (beneath an Acheu-lean industry) (Ashton et al., 1992). Within Breuil’s framework, these indus-tries no longer had to be evolutionarily linked but could have simply coex-isted. By implication, High Lodge could therefore have been be a site whereideas and techniques had blended or a hunting ground used by two distinctculture-groups (Oakley and Leakey, 1937). No assemblage was spared.Even the handax-rich industries from Stoke Newington and Caddington(Smith, 1894) were attributed to Clactonian III, but with a strong Acheuleaninfluence: a proposal in no small part related to Worthington Smith’s dili-gence in collecting flakes and cores (see below).

The 1950s mark something of a watershed, during which the familiarimage of the Clactonian began to crystallize. Improved dating and geologicaltechniques began to highlight problems with tool-based sequences, ques-tioning the contemporaneity of different industries as well as their internalevolution (McNabb, 1996b). Bordes (1950) pioneered an analytical methodthat emphasized whole assemblages above type-fossils. Continuing workin Africa (e.g., Leakey, 1951) further eroded the validity of the evolutionaryschema devised for Europe, revealing not only very ancient nonhandaxassemblages in East Africa, but the possible in situ development and evolu-tion of the Acheulean out of these. Africa was increasingly seen as thecenter of human biological and cultural evolution (McNabb, 1996b). Therewas also growing awareness that in Asia, Central and Eastern Europehandaxes were extremely rare if not totally absent (Obermaier, 1924; Mov-ius, 1948; McBurney, 1950).

In this light, Oakley (1949) formalized the notion (previously voicedby Paterson, 1945) that the Clactonian was related to the pebble-toolcultures of Asia, the Choukoutien–Soan complex. For Warren (1951),this provided the answer to a question posed over 25 years earlier(Warren, 1924): From where had the Clactonian originated? It alsosupported his claim that the Clactonian was essentially a chopper-basedindustry. In addition, the idea that the Clactonian actually representedthe earliest occupation of the British Isles that had not coexisted withhandax cultures was becoming widely accepted (Oakley, 1961). The


stratified cultural sequences at Barnham and Swanscombe, the paucityof evidence of pre-Anglian occupation, and the hint of a late Anglianoccupation as represented by the rolled Clactonian specimens in theSwanscombe Lower Gravels (Clactonian I) were critical pieces of evidencesupporting this view (Wymer, 1968). The fate of the ‘‘primitive’’ andnow archaic Clactonian, in this reading, was assimilation by the moresophisticated later ‘‘Acheulean’’ migrants rather than evolution into otherindustries. Oakley (1964) later changed tack entirely: impressed byresearch on the Hope Fountain nonhandax industry of southern Africa(Jones, 1949; Clark, 1959a, b), interpreted as a woodworking variant ofthe Acheulean, he suggested reassigning the Clactonian to a seasonalor local activity facies of the Acheulean.

However, in a review of the chronology and significance of theClactonian using only the evidence from the excavated sites of Hoxne,Clacton, and Swanscombe, Wymer (1974) presented a cogent argumentfor the primacy of the Clactonian within the British Paleolithic sequence.While a large number of sites remained only loosely dated, the generalchronology proposed by Wymer fitted the available evidence well. Re-jecting the then meager evidence for pre-Anglian occupation, Wymerargued that the Clactonian had first appeared in the late Anglian orEarliest Hoxnian, existed throughout the pre- and early temperate periods(pollen subzones HoI-IIb), and was replaced by Acheulean industriesjust before the late temperate (HoIIc). A period of overlap and perhapsdirect competition was hypothesized (Wymer, 1974), although a laterrevision (Wymer, 1983) assigned the earliest in situ Acheulean at Hoxneto the late temperate (HoIIIb), making such overlap less likely. Wymer(1968) also supported the view that the Acheulean had entered Britainfrom the south, ultimately originating in Africa, but that the Clactonianhad spread from the east, deriving from cultures of Central Europe andAsia (see also Roe, 1981). However, like Warren, he could find nojustification for any evolutionary subdivisions within the Clactonian(Wymer, 1968). By 1974, all of the tenets of the familiar in not classicdefinition of the Clactonian were in place.

However, by the late 1970s the shock-waves of processual archaeologyfinally reached the Clactonian. The cultural–historical interpretations thathad been revised and modified during the previous 50 years were increas-ingly seen as theoretically unsatisfactory. Empirical developments also be-gan to erode some of the most cherished beliefs about the Clactonian. Forthe first time since 1922, many workers began to see the Clactonian as aproblem that required radical rethinking. The past 25 years have witnessedmany changes to both our empirical understanding and our interpretationsof the Clactonian.

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A MODERN SYNTHESIS

A Primitive Technology?

The Clactonian is still often regarded as a typologically and technologi-cally primitive industry displaying inferior technique and skill, especiallywhen compared to the Acheulean. From this perspective, Clactonian flakesare characterized as being ‘‘heavy’’ and thick, with exaggerated percussionfeatures, large unfaceted butts, obtuse flaking angles, and high incidences ofmishits or other knapping errors. Similarly, Clactonian cores are commonlyperceived as technologically crude (especially compared to handaxes), ap-parently reflecting the use of the simplistic, somewhat haphazard anviltechnique. This primitive motif is reinforced by the apparent low frequen-cies of such simple flakes and cores in handax assemblages, where theemphasis is on the more sophisticated handaxes themselves (Roe, 1981, p.74). Arguably, this image was developed in an essentially theory-led man-ner, demonstrates a naıve appreciation of the archaeological record, andis inherently flawed (McNabb, 1992, 1996b).

Early warnings that similar core-working techniques and virtually iden-tical end products (flakes, scrapers, cores) occurred in both Clactonian andAcheulean assemblages (e.g., Keeley, 1937; Warren, 1951; Wymer, 1968;Bordes, 1961; cf. Newcomer, 1971) were expressed more to prevent theuncritical application of prevalent definitions than explicitly to questionthe validity of the Clactonian as a whole. However, in his metrical analysisof 9 Clactonian and 14 Acheulean assemblages, Ohel (1979) concludedthat, at two standard errors, there was significant overlap between manyaspects of flakes and cores from the two assemblage types and that nodifferences, other than those resulting from collection bias, could be sus-tained. These results are no doubt valid and go some way to addressingcertain aspects of the classic technotypological definition, but at two stan-dard errors a high degree of overlap is probably inevitable (Wymer, 1979;Wenban-Smith, 1996). Furthermore, many of the metrical attributes usedreveal little about the actual technologies employed in the two assemblagetypes; similar metrical overlap could probably be demonstrated betweenClactonian debitage and that in the Oldowan or even aspects of the Neo-lithic (cf. Newcomer, 1979; Wymer, 1979).

However, McNabb’s (1992) comprehensive technological analysis oflarge well-documented/excavated assemblages produced the same conclu-sions. There were no tangible technological differences between the coresand the flakes found in Clactonian and Acheulean assemblages, and nosingle or group of technological features could be used to characterizeClactonian artifacts. McNabb (1992; Ashton and McNabb, 1992) concluded


that what we are, in fact, dealing with is a universal repertoire of core-working techniques, common to both handax and nonhandax industries,that persisted in Britain from the earliest occupation down to the introduc-tion of Levallois and probably beyond. The only supportable differenceswere typological, namely, the presence of handaxes and, more tentatively,standardized scrapers in Acheulean assemblages. The frequency in Acheu-lean assemblages of both these elements was found to be highly variable,however. Of course, handaxes are usually accompanied by handax thinningflakes, produced by a totally different technological process to hard-hammercore working. The flakes generated by these two activities are fundamentallydifferent; if this was the stem of the perceived contrasts, then it is a caseof like not being compared with like.

The apparent paucity of simple core-and-flake working from collec-tions of Acheulean material (e.g., Roe, 1981, p. 74) is very likely to be aproduct of two simple factors. First, in Acheulean contexts early collectionbiases usually led to handaxes being collected at the expense of everythingelse, while in Clactonian contexts similar practices probably favored heavycores and flakes: both of which helped to fuel if not self-fulfill the classicdefinitions. This is well illustrated by the situation at Caddington and StokeNewington, where Worthington Smith, a particularly careful collector whorecognized the importance of retaining everything from a site, amassedlarge collections which included handaxes along with abundant cores andflakes (Smith, 1894). This ‘‘mixing’’ of elements is probably what led tothese sites being labeled Clactonian III (e.g., Warren, 1951). Second, handaxmanufacture results in a large number of perfectly serviceable flakes thathominids could have used instead of those produced during core reduction,with especially large examples sometimes coming from the roughing-outstage (Newcomer, 1971; Bradley and Sampson, 1978, 1986). So, cores maygenuinely be less frequent on some Acheulean sites (such as Boxgrove)because the by-products of handax manufacture could fulfill most needs,but, like handaxes, the actual frequencies of cores in both situations areextremely variable (McNabb, 1992).

The preferential use of the anvil technique in the Clactonian must alsobe rejected. This idea was almost certainly linked to the belief that theanvil technique, whereby a hand-held nodule was freely swung against astationary anvil, was technically inferior to the use of a hand-held hammer-stone (McNabb, 1992). However, experimental work has demonstrated thatthe use of a hammer-stone not only produces ‘‘Clactonian-style’’ flakesmore easily and more safely but that the anvil technique tends to produceflakes with small bulbs and flat ventral surfaces—wholly ‘‘un-Clactonian’’in fact (Baden-Powell, 1949; Warren, 1951; Newcomer, 1970). McNabb(1992) has further questioned the identification of anvils at Clactonian sites,

16 White

stating that most are in rolled condition, making it difficult to determinewhether any localized areas of battering are artificial or purely natural.There may, however, be a difference in the use of soft versus hard hammers,although this again is related to the occurrence of handaxes.

In summary, some of the central defining features of the Clactonianmust be rejected as unsupportable, being artifacts of subjective assessmentsof technological features and various sampling problems. McNabb uses thisas evidence that the Clactonian does not exist. However, as shown byMcNabb’s own work, basic hard-hammer core working is the universalcornerstone of all Lower Paleolithic lithic technology—the underlying com-mon denominator. It can be argued that this core-working/flake productionwas restricted by a ‘‘rule of limited possibilities’’ (Rolland, 1981) in whichsingle, parallel, and alternate flaking using multiple platforms (Ashton andMcNabb, 1996a) practically exhausted the range of hard-hammer percus-sion technology without recourse to more specialized techniques such asLevallois. In other words, within the prevalent technological parametersthese basic techniques were practically unavoidable, suggesting that grosssimilarities between the core-related debitage and knapping techniquesseen in Acheulean and Clactonian assemblages should actually be expected,not found surprising. There may, though, be real differences in the fre-quency of a technique or the way in which it was applied, depending onindividual skill or raw materials.

Unfortunately, such a perspective leaves the Clactonian with a largelynegative definition: a generalized core-and flake industry that lacks formaltools such as handaxes and standardized scrapers but that may containchoppers. However, as shown by the conflicting interpretations of the past,this chopper element is open to some doubt. A recent experimental investi-gation concluded that they were most probably just waste-products of flakeproduction and not deliberately fashioned tools (Ashton et al., 1992a).They are also found in British Acheulean assemblages. In reality, then, theClactonian can be defined solely on the absence of handaxes, and perhapsalso the morphology of the scrapers, although the latter requires further re-search.

Handaxes in the Clactonian?

While handaxes are then, by definition, regarded as being absent fromthe Clactonian, ‘‘crude pointed implements’’ have always been a recognizedelement, often being described as poor imitations of handaxes by peoplesunaccustomed to making such tools (Warren, 1922; Chandler, 1930) (seeFig. 3). Warren (1951), for one, was convinced that, if found in Acheulean


Fig. 3. Nonclassic bifaces. (1, 3) Bed 2, Little Thurrock; (2) (?)Lower Gravel, Rickson’s Pit,Swanscombe; (4, 5) Lower Gravel, Barnfield Pit, Swanscombe. [1 and 3, after Conway (1996),reproduced by permission of the Lithics Studies Society; 2 and 5, after Ashton and McNabb(1994), drawings by Phil Dean British Museum, reproduced with the kind permission ofthe Trustees of the British Museum; 4, after Chandler (1930).]

18 WhiteT

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The Clactonian Question 19B

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20 White

contexts, most would have been accepted as rough handaxes. This wasapparently never seen as a problem: such pieces were always crude and illformed, totally dissimilar to the well-made, symmetrical tools common inAcheulean assemblages, while typical handax thinning flakes were nota-bly absent.

Ashton and McNabb (1994) have recently argued that this perspectiveis based on an inadequate and narrow definition of the handax. Theymaintain that handaxes occur within a broad continuum of variation, atone end of which are situated the familiar ‘‘classic’’ forms, while at theother end lie ‘‘nonclassic bifaces.’’ The latter term relates to pieces whichshow some bifacial edge shaping and durable cutting edges, but whichotherwise do not really demonstrate the deliberate imposition of a precon-ceived template, as implied in the traditional concept of the handaxe (Ash-ton and McNabb, 1994). Such nonclassics are found at varying frequenciesin virtually all Acheulean assemblages, usually among larger numbers ofclassic forms, and in very small numbers in Clactonian ones (Table II).According to these authors, this shows that handax manufacture was opera-tionalized not according to strict mental templates, but a flexible mentalconstruct that ranged from the most refined ‘‘classic’’ to the coarsest ‘‘non-classic,’’ with much of this variation explicable in terms of different rawmaterials and human idiosyncrasy (Ashton and McNabb, 1994; White,1998). This suggests that another of the defining characteristics of theClactonian is based on erroneous archaeological systematics and that thenonclassic handaxes found in the Clactonian should be regarded as essen-tially identical to the more familiar classic forms of the Acheulean: severalof which are, furthermore, also claimed to occur at some Clactonian sites(Ashton and McNabb, 1994; McNabb and Ashton, 1992; McNabb, 1996a)(Table II).

Ashton and McNabb (1994) detect another continuum in the actualfrequency of handaxes within Acheulean sites, ranging from those wherehandaxes and handax production dominate to the exclusion of almost every-thing else to those where these form only a minor component. Accordingly,sites where handaxes are absent or occur only as rare nonclassic forms (i.e.,those termed Clactonian) should be considered as the extreme end of thiscontinuum, rather than a distinct assemblage type. Again, the Clactonianis argued to be invalid as a separate industry.

Before the Clactonian is consigned into oblivion, it should be notedthat the precise provenance of many of the claimed Clactonian handaxesmust be regarded as uncertain (cf. Wenban-Smith, 1996, 1998). As shownin Table II, only seven have anything approaching a firm provenance, whilestill fewer of the pieces from either Clacton or the Swanscombe LowerGravel can be accepted without question. None of the ‘‘handaxes’’ from


either of these sites was recovered in situ during controlled excavations;all were collected from contexts or in circumstances which cast doubt ontheir original provenance. Only the pieces from Little Thurrock and Barn-ham St. Gregory are from firm excavated contexts. In the case of LittleThurrock, though, the Clactonian material is from throughout Bed 1(Wymer, 1957; Conway, 1996), while the bifaces came from within or justbeneath Bed 2a, a ferrous hard-pan at the junction of the lower gravel andthe brickearth that may mark an erosional surface (Conway, 1996; DavidBridgland, personal communication). The relationship between the archae-ological material from these two beds is thus extremely unclear, and besides,both of the handaxes are nonclassics. Only at Barnham, where severalhandax manufacturing scatters, an ovate, and a broken butt were recoveredfrom precisely the same context as the old Clactonian collections, can afirm case be made for reconsidering previous cultural claims (Ashton etal., 1994a, b; Ashton, 1998).

But what of these nonclassics? While I agree fully with Ashton andMcNabb’s (1994) basic principles concerning a continuum of variation,by redefining the handax they have only reformulated an old problem,they have not removed it. If nothing else, we must still explain why, insome Lower Paleolithic contexts, handaxes of the classic type are appar-ently absent and why their proposed substitute, the nonclassic, is sorare; Table II contains only 19 entries, few unequivocal. In Acheuleanassemblages, nonclassic handaxes occur alongside more classic forms. Inthese cases, nonclassics are regarded as ‘‘rude or erratic’’ (Smith, 1894)and generally explained as being the work of novices or the unskilled,pieces made in haste or those which conform absolutely to the shapeof the raw materials. The critical point is that larger numbers of ‘‘better’’handaxes always coexist with these rude forms, showing that the peoplesresponsible for these industries had a broad and flexible approach tothe socially maintained and transmitted mental and technological constructof the handax, which could be modified to meet the contingencies ofthe situation (White, 1998). This does not seem to be the case for theClactonian. When present, handaxes seem to have been manufacturedaccording to a very poorly maintained construct, producing artifacts thatreally qualify as bifaces by virtue of a minimum of bifacial workingalong an expedient edge. One should also remember that the notionthat the Clactonian is the extreme end of a continuum of variation inhandax frequency and expression, rather than a discrete phenomenon,is itself an interpretation and should not be taken as concrete evidencethat the Clactonian is not a valid industry. Other authors interpretidentical pieces as cores (see Vishnyatsky, 1999, Fig. 3.11).

In summary, there are a few undoubted examples of nonclassic bifaces

22 White

from Clactonian contexts, generally those that featured in the originalworker’s definitions, but the claims for classic forms must be treated withmore caution. There has indeed been a reticence to accept these, whichMcNabb (1996b) sees as a stubborn unwillingness among British prehistori-ans to abandon the Clactonian. I do not wish to argue these pieces awaybut would suggest that until something more concrete and less anecdotalis forthcoming, they be regarded as ‘‘pending inquiry.’’ I also considerit arguable whether the occurrence of a few nonclassics is sufficient todemonstrate complete parity between the technotypological repertoires ofthe makers of Acheulean and Clactonian assemblages. However, that asingle handax in a firm context can radically alter the industrial affinity ofan assemblage does serve to highlight the fragility of a system that appealsto negative evidence, even if that evidence might be archaeologically mean-ingful.

The Corpus of Clactonian Sites

McNabb’s (1992) conclusions regarding the technological parity be-tween Clactonian and Acheulean core and flake working demand thatarchaeologists abandon the practice of dividing assemblages into differentcultural units based on the technotypological traits of debitage. Unless avalid difference can be identified, such as major contrasts in condition, itis therefore necessary to dismiss virtually out-of-hand those sites where amixture of two assemblage types has been claimed simply on the presenceof both ‘‘Clactonian-style’’ debitage and Acheulean handaxes. Sites orassemblages which fall into this category include Purfleet Middle Gravel,Essex (Wymer, 1985; Schreve et al., 2000), Fordwich, Kent (Smith, 1933;Roe, 1981), Highlands Farm, Oxfordshire (Wymer, 1968), Denton’s Pit,Reading (Wymer, 1968), Croxley Green, Hertfordshire (Wymer, 1968), andYiewsley, Middlesex (Collins, 1978).

There is, though, an unfortunate consequence to this: it is impossible toseparate genuine nonhandax assemblages from handax assemblages shouldthey become mixed (by natural agencies or due to poor stratigraphic controlin older collections) in remotely similar condition. As the presence of asingle handax or group of handax-manufacturing flakes would usually de-mand an Acheulean label, it is thus very difficult to identify nonhandaxassemblages and the proportion of assemblages assigned to the Acheuleanmay be artificially high. Nonhandax assemblages may exist only in a fewfortuitous cases where later mixing did not occur: a situation that, in itself(especially in secondary context assemblages), might suggest that handaxeswere never available to be incorporated, i.e., were not made by the groups


concerned. On the other hand, the corollary of such a proposition is thatmany assemblages deemed to be Acheulean may in fact be mixed, makingcomparisons between many ‘‘Acheulean’’ and ‘‘Clactonian’’ assemblagesfundamentally problematic (Nick Ashton, personal communication). Thisdebitage-based problem is unresolvable given our present state of knowl-edge but does not alter the basic division based on handaxes.

This reinforces the view that the Clactonian must be based entirelyon the absence of handaxes, or at least classic handaxes, an appeal tonegative evidence that will not satisfy everybody. If this is considered valid,and not an artifact of sampling (see below), then only a small number ofassemblages can be considered. The number of sites listed below mightseem insignificant compared to the many hundreds of known Acheuleanfind-spots, but this is a specious comparison. In addition to the issue ofmixing noted above, the fact remains that within present systematics onlyone classic handax is necessary to create an Acheulean assemblage, butfew would accept a Clactonian designation based on a handful of hard-hammer flakes or a core, of which there are many such occurrences (see Roe,1968). In other cases, possibly genuine Clactonian assemblages [perhaps,for example, Groveland’s Pit, Reading (Wymer, 1968), or Kirmington,Humberside (Bridgland and Thomas, 1999)] must be presently disregardeddue to stratigraphic uncertainties and a general paucity of information(Roe, 1981), owing mostly to the age and nature of the investigations. Ohel(1979) suggests other reasons for the small numbers of Clactonian sites,including obliteration by ice sheet and very small population densities inrestricted enclaves, but these might equally apply to the Acheulean. Whencompared only to well-stratified, well-excavated, and well-documentedAcheulean assemblages (i.e., adhering to the same standards used in select-ing the sample below), the proportion of Clactonian sites is more significant.

Clacton, Essex [Collections from Exposures at Lion Point, JaywickSands, West Cliff, Golf Course, and Holiday Camp (Figs. 4a–c)]. The Clac-ton deposits represent a series of Middle Pleistocene channels of theThames, incised into London Clay and Lower Holland Gravel. They areconsidered to be part of the Boyn Hill/Orsett Heath Formation (and itsdownstream equivalents) and are correlated with OIS 11, the Hoxnianinterglacial (Bridgland, 1994). The main channel, over 400 m wide andattaining a maximum depth of 15 m, basically comprises the FreshwaterBeds (divided into Lower and Upper units), overlain by the EstuarineBeds. Evidence of periglacial processes in the sequence from the GolfCourse Site suggests that sedimentation began during the late Anglian(Singer et al., 1973), while the overall pollen profile demonstrates aggrada-tion throughout most of the ensuing interglacial; the Upper FreshwaterBeds being assigned to biozone Ho IIb–IIIa, the Estuarine Beds to later

24 White

A

B

Fig. 4. Clacton. (a) Clacton location map showing distribution of Pleistocene deposits andvarious exposures. (b) Schematic section through Clacton area showing channel occurrences.(c) Section through main Clacton Channel, as exposed at the West Cliff. [All after Bridglandet al. (1999), with modifications; reproduced by permission of Elsevier Publishing.]


C

Fig. 4. Continued

Ho IIIa onward (Turner and Kerney, 1971). A diverse molluscan faunashows the arrival of the Rhenish suite beginning in the uppermostFreshwater Beds, with a developed Rhenish Suite and the appearanceof marine mollusks along with brackish/marine fish occurring later, inthe Estuarine Beds (Turner and Kerney, 1971; Meijer and Preece, 1995;Bridgland et al., 1999). Clactonian artifacts, in both primary and secondarycontexts, have been recovered from the Freshwater Beds at most Clactonlocalities, the richest concentrations occurring in the upper part of theLower Freshwater Beds (Wymer, 1985). A mammalian fauna, consideredto represent an early Hoxnian suite (Schreve, 1997; Parfitt, 1998), hasalso been recovered from these deposits. Both artifacts and mammalianremains are rare in the Estuarine Beds (Wymer, 1985). Warren (1932)and Oakley and Leakey (1937) also noted the presence of sparseClactonian artifacts in gravel at Burnham-on-Crouch. Bridgland (1994,personal communication) suggests that these deposits are part of theAsheldham Channel Gravel, broadly correlated with the Lower Freshwa-ter Beds at Clacton and Lower Gravel at Swanscombe.

Swanscombe, Kent [Barnfield Pit, Lower Gravel and Lower Loam;Rickson’s Pit, Lower Gravel (Fig. 5)]. The Swanscombe deposits and theircontained archaeological, palynological, and faunal assemblages are well

26 White

Fig. 5. Summary section of Pleistocene deposits and their contained archaeology at BarnfieldPit, Swanscombe. [After Conway et al. (1996), with modifications; reproduced with the kindpermission of the Trustees of the British Museum.]


known and described in detail elsewhere (Wymer, 1968; Waechter, 1973;Bridgland, 1994; Conway et al., 1996). The deposits are part of the highestpost-Anglian terrace of the Thames (Boyn Hill/Orsett Heath Formation)and represent a single, grossly fining-upward fluvial sequence spanning theentire Hoxnian interglacial (OIS 11). Bridgland et al. (1985) divided thissequence into three broad aggradational phases: Phase I (Lower Graveland Lower Loam), Phase II (Lower Middle and Upper Middle Gravel),and Phase III (Upper Loam and Upper Gravel). The Phase I depositscontain only Clactonian material—mostly in secondary context in theLower Gravel, but mostly in situ with refitting sequences in the LowerLoam—while Phases II and III have yielded rich Acheulean assemblagesin primary and secondary contexts (Smith and Dewey, 1913; Wymer, 1964;Waechter, 1970, 1971; Ashton and McNabb, 1996b). Rich interglacial mol-luscan and mammalian faunas have been recovered from most units. Thefaunal assemblages from the Phase I deposits are equated with those fromthe Clacton Freshwater Beds (Kerney, 1971; Turner and Kerney, 1971;Schreve, 1997), although those in the Phase II deposits show significantdifferences, some suggestive of an episode of cooler, more open conditions(Conway et al., 1996; Schreve, 1997; Parfitt, 1998). The presence of a fullydeveloped Rhenish molluscan suite in the Phase II deposits facilitates fur-ther correlation with the Clacton sequence, probably equating with theEstuarine beds (Kerney, 1971; Meijer and Preece, 1995), while a controver-sial pollen profile from Swanscombe has assigned the Lower Loam to pollensubzone IIb (Hubbard, 1996).

The sequence at Rickson’s Pit is a lateral continuation of the Barnfieldsection and shows a broadly similar archaeological succession from Clacton-ian to Acheulean industries, although it generally lacks the loams foundat the latter site and is considered less complex overall (Dewey, 1932;Wymer, 1968; Roe 1981; Bridgland, 1994).

Globe Pit, Little Thurrock, Essex [Bed 1 (Fig. 6)]. This site is situatedat a lower terrace level than Swanscombe and on the north side of theThames. Some controversy has surrounded the age of this site, particularlyconcerning the reconciliation of its position in the Thames terrace staircasewith its contained archaeology (e.g., King and Oakley, 1936; Bridgland,1994). On the basis of altitude and local correlation, the deposits have mostrecently been assigned to the Lynch Hill/Corbets Tey Formation, correlatedwith late OIS 10 and OIS 9 (Bridgland and Harding, 1993; Bridgland, 1994).Although no faunal remains have been recovered from Globe Pit itself,the brickearths there are a continuation of the fossiliferous brickearths atGrays Thurrock. These yielded a rich mammalian fauna, assigned bySchreve (1997) to OIS 9. A poor pollen profile from Little Thurrock, onceconsidered indicative of an Ipswichian date (West, 1969), must, in the light

28 White

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of a much more complex Quaternary sequence, now be seen as undiagnostic(Bridgland, 1994, p. 234).

Clactonian flakes and cores have been recovered in primary contextfrom Bed I at Globe Pit, a gravel underlying interglacial brickearths; twononclassic bifaces, flakes, and cores have been recovered from Bed 2; whileAcheulean material is claimed to be present in a separate gravel overlyingthe brickearth (Wymer, 1957, 1985; Snelling, 1964; Bridgland and Harding,1993; Bridgland, 1994; Conway, 1996). There is some confusion regardingthe relationship between Bed 1 and Bed 2: Bridgland (1994; Bridgland andHarding, 1994) considers them to be part of the same gravel, while Conway(1996) sees them as two discrete units separated by solifluction deposits.Bridgland (personal communication) has suggested that the top of Bed 2,which is heavily cemented and iron-panned, is an erosional surface, thusmaking the relationship between the archaeology in Bed 1 and that in thetop of Bed 2 very dubious, even if the two are a single deposit. Aminostratig-raphy, now somewhat controversially, placed this site in OIS 11 (Bowenet al., 1989).

Purfleet, Essex [Lower Gravel (Fig. 7)]. The sediments at Bluelandsand Greenlands Pits, Purfleet, represent Thames deposits of the CorbetsTey/Lynch Hill Formation, correlated with OIS 10/9/8 (Bridgland, 1994).The deposits are tripartite, with three broadly fining-upward sequences,each containing a different archaeological industry. The Lower Gravel andCoombe Rock has yielded evidence of only nonhandax material, the MiddleGravel Acheulean material, and the Upper Gravel a Levallois industry(Wymer, 1985; Schreve et al., 2000). The excavated assemblage from thelower deposits is small (�100 pieces) and some caution is required, althoughfurther material has been recovered casually. A shelly sand below theMiddle Gravel has produced an interglacial mammalian fauna, suggestedby Schreve (1997; Schreve et al., 2000) to represent a diagnostic OIS 9assemblage. The molluscan assemblage from the shelly bed is consistentwith this. These data, along with the position of the site in the Thamessequence, suggest that the nonhandax material belongs to late OIS 10/earlyOIS 9, comparable with that at Little Thurrock.

Barnham St. Gregory, Suffolk. The Barnham sequence consists of adeep glaciogenic channel filled with glacial outwash and Anglian till, intowhich has been incised a late glacial/early interglacial fluvial channel (Lewis,1998). This is filled to a depth of 7 m with fossiliferous interglacial claysand silts, passing laterally at the channel margins into yellow–gray silty-sands overlying a coarse cobble band (Lewis, 1998). This cobble band, a‘‘lag’’ deposit that formed during the evolution of the channel, was themain source of raw materials throughout the human occupation of the site,although it was probably periodically inundated by water. Paterson (1937)

30 White

Fig. 7. Summary section of Bluelands Pit, Purfleet. [After Wymer (1985), with modifications;reproduced with the kind permission of J. J. Wymer.]


described five Clactonian assemblages (A–E) in a range of conditions fromwithin and atop this cobble band, with an Acheulean assemblage in theoverlying brickearths. Wymer (1979) also found an in situ Clactonian assem-blage from near the surface of the cobble band. Recent work by Ashton(1998; Ashton et al., 1994a, b), however, recovered fresh, in situ handaxesand handax-manufacturing flakes from within and on top of the cobbleband, at a location 50 m from the original investigations but sealed by thesame black horizon (Ashton et al., 1994a, Lewis, 1998; Ashton, 1998).Therefore, the cultural affinities of Paterson’s and Wymer’s fresh Clactonianindustry may need revising [although Wenban-Smith (1998) has arguedthat different areas of the cobble band were possibly exposed at differenttimes, thus questioning the contemporaneity of the two areas]. Still, ac-cepting that the two areas are contemporaneous and that the fresh assem-blage is in fact Acheulean, the presence of a rolled Clactonian assemblageis still valid: no trace of handax manufacture has ever been found amongthe rolled series in the cobble band. A diverse temperate fauna of earlyHoxnian (OIS 11) character was recovered from the channel silts (Parfitt,1998), but the archaeological areas had been decalcified and no bones werepreserved. Although broadly contemporary with the cobble band, it is thusdifficult to relate precisely the fauna to a particular archaeological horizonin the cobble band. The very small assemblage (n � 16) which definitelycooccurs with the early Hoxnian fauna in the channel silts contains nohandax elements (Ashton, 1998). The Barnham evidence can thus be seento support rather than contradict the chronology and relationship of theAcheulean and Clactonian.

Cuxton, Kent (Lower Assemblage). At this site, Cruse (1987) describeda sequence of fluviatile sands and coarse gravels of the River Medwaycontaining two archaeological series, separated by a depositional hiatus.The upper series was an Acheulean assemblage with abundant handaxes,but the lower assemblage was completely lacking in handaxes (Callow,in Cruse, 1987). Callow demonstrated statistically significant differencesbetween the two assemblages but, for reasons that are not altogether clear(possibly inferred age and context), warned against confusing the nonhan-dax industry with the Clactonian. Based on correlation of downstreamprofiles, Bridgland (1996; personal communication, 2000) has recently sug-gested that the Cuxton deposits probably belong to the River Medwayequivalent of the Lynch Hill/Corbets Tey Formation (OIS 10–9–8) of theThames, thus revising his earlier suggestion (Bridgland, in Cruse, 1987)that they were part of the Binney Gravel, the Medway equivalent of thelater Taplow/Kempton Park Formation. Cruse’s excavation, which revealedthe nonhandax to the handax assemblage succession, was situated at thebase of the sequence. An earlier excavation by Tester (1965), however,

32 White

was located at the highest part of the outcrop and recovered, among arich Acheulean assemblage, a small Levallois element. Although the trueLevallois character of these pieces has been questioned (Callow, in Cruse,1987), the whole sequence invites comparison with that at Purfleet. Faunaland pollen preservation were poor, although the pollen did permit thetentative attribution of the Cuxton sequence to an interglacial period (Hub-bard, cited by Cruse, 1987).

Chronology

Several critical points regarding the chronology of the Clactonian haveemerged since the 1970s. The most significant is that the Clactonian doesnot represent the earliest human occupation of the British Isles. Acheuleanassemblages are now well established in Pre-Anglian and Anglian (OIS12) deposits at sites such as Boxgrove, Sussex (Roberts and Parfitt, 1999),High Lodge, Suffolk (Ashton et al., 1992b), and Warren Hill, Suffolk(Wymer et al., 1991). The Clactonian cannot therefore be considered torepresent an early incursion of humans possessing only a primitive industrythat predates the Acheulean. This might suggest that the Clactonian is asporadically occurring variant of an elastic Acheulean (Rolland, 1998), withpurely local significance relating to raw materials, activity facies, etc.

However, the chronological patterning emerging from recent lithostrat-igraphical and biostratigraphical Quaternary studies at the key sites (Bridg-land, 1994; Schreve, 1997; Parfitt, 1998) suggests otherwise (Table III). Thenonhandax sites briefly described above can be divided into two groups.As shown in Table III, the first group can all be equated with the earlyHoxnian, a period correlated with pollen subzones HoI–IIb, prior to thearrival of mollusks belonging to the Rhenish suite. At present no HoxnianAcheulean assemblage is dated to this period. The Acheulean appears toarrive sometime immediately prior to, during or perhaps shortly after HoIIc,at which point Clactonian assemblages cease to occur (cf. Wymer, 1974;Bridgland, 1994, and references above). The second group can be equatedwith the same part of the next climatic cycle, i.e., late OIS 10/early OIS 9.At Purfleet and Cuxton and, by lateral extrapolation, Little Thurrock,nonhandax assemblages are replaced partway through the cycle by handaxindustries, with the first appearance of the Levallois technique in the BritishIsles documented for the overlying (OIS 8) gravels at the Purfleet. TheLevallois element excepted, this pattern is essentially identical to that atSwanscombe and perhaps also Barnham.

The chronological distribution of nonhandax assemblages, as presentlyunderstood and subject to revision (especially in light of the more complex


Tab

leII

I.C

hron

olog

yof

Non

hand

ax(C

lact

onia

n)A

ssem

blag

esin

the

Bri

tish

Isle

s

Site

Age

Evi

denc

eR

efer

ence

(s)

Glo

beP

it,

Lit

tle

Thu

rroc

kL

ate

OIS

10/e

arly

OIS

9B

asal

part

ofL

ynch

Hill

/Cor

bets

Tey

Bri

dgla

nd&

Har

ding

,19

93;

For

mat

ion

Bri

dgla

nd,

1994

;Sc

hrev

e,L

ater

aleq

uiva

lent

ofov

erly

ing

bric

k-19

97ea

rth

(Gre

y’s

Bri

ckea

rth)

cont

ains

post

-Hox

nian

/pre

OIS

7in

terg

laci

alfa

unal

suit

eC

uxto

nL

ate

OIS

10/e

arly

OIS

9B

asal

part

ofL

ynch

Hill

/Cor

bets

Tey

Bri

dgla

nd,

1996

For

mat

ion

Pur

fleet

Lat

eO

IS10

/ear

lyO

IS9

Bas

alG

rave

lsof

Lyn

chH

ill/C

orbe

tsB

ridg

land

,19

94;

Schr

eve,

1997

;T

eyF

orm

atio

nSc

hrev

eet

al.,

2000

Und

erlie

spo

st-H

oxni

an/p

re-O

IS7

inte

r-gl

acia

lfa

unal

suit

eC

lact

on,

fres

hwat

erbe

dsE

arly

Hox

nian

(OIS

11)

Low

erpa

rtof

Boy

nH

ill/O

rset

tH

eath

Tur

ner

and

Ker

ney,

1971

;F

orm

atio

nW

ymer

,19

74,

1985

;B

ridg

-E

arly

Hox

nian

mam

mal

ian

faun

ala

nd19

94;

Schr

eve,

1997

Non

-Rhe

nish

mol

lusc

anfa

una

Ear

lyH

oxni

anpo

llen

profi

leSw

ansc

ombe

,P

hase

Ide

posi

tsE

arly

Hox

nian

(OIS

11)

Low

erpa

rtof

Boy

nH

ill/O

rset

tH

eath

Bri

dgla

nd19

94;

Schr

eve,

1997

;F

orm

atio

nK

erne

y,19

71;

Con

way

etal

.,E

arly

Hox

nian

mam

mal

ian

faun

a19

96N

on-R

heni

shm

ollu

scan

faun

aB

arnh

am(r

olle

dse

ries

)E

arly

Hox

nian

(OIS

11)

Con

form

ably

over

lies

Ang

lian

till

Lew

is,

1998

;P

arfit

t,19

98E

arly

Hox

nian

faun

ain

asso

ciat

edla

t-er

alde

posi

ts

34 White

fluctuations revealed by the marine isotope record), therefore shows arecurrent occurrence, appearing at the end of a major glacial phase orbeginning of the succeeding major interglacial, where they appear to existalone until eventually replaced by Acheulean assemblages toward the late-middle or end of the warm episode. The fact that, on both occasions,Acheulean assemblages occur in deposits older than each Clactonian ‘‘eventhorizon’’ also removes the problem of the very occasional handax fromClactonian sites. As some Clactonian sites are in secondary cotext, it wouldbe more surprising if no stray handaxes had ever been incorporated inthese deposits, a suggestion perhaps supported by the condition of many‘‘Clactonian bifaces’’ (Table II).

A New Synthesis

Recent work on the British Quaternary sequence and Paleolithic ar-chaeology demands that the definition of the Clactonian be revised. Oncurrent evidence, nonhandax (Clactonian) assemblages can be describedas follows.

1. A generalized Lower Paleolithic industry in which unprepared core-and-flake reduction dominates the assemblage, with very rare occur-rences of bifacially worked tools termed by some authors nonclassicbifaces. The core-and-flake reduction is inseparable from that seenin assemblages with handaxes and probably represents a universalrepertoire of simple, if not unavoidable, flint-working techniquescommon to all hominid groups over the whole Pleistocene. Chop-pers may be present but are not unique identifiers.

2. Only the presence/absence and technological or conceptual ap-proach to bifacial tools (handaxes) seems clearly to divide the Clac-tonian from the Acheulean. Differences in scraper morphology maybe another marker, although this contrast is as yet poorly defined.

3. The Clactonian does not represent the earliest occupation of the Brit-ish Isles but has a recurrent occurrence. It first appears at the end ofthe Anglian, persists through the earlier Hoxnian, and is then re-placed by assemblages with handaxes. Handaxe assemblages do notseem to have been contemporaneous with nonhandax ones. This pat-tern is essentially repeated during the following climatic cycle (OIS10-9). Interestingly, this pattern is not repeated during any later cycle,after the appearance of Levallois. Further refinements may show thatthe Clactonian and Acheulean belong to the different substages ofthese interglacials, as evident in the marine record.


4. The apparent relationship to pebble-tool industries of Asia is perhapscoincidental and superficial, reflecting little more than the commonuse of a set of very basic (and hence universal) knapping techniques,mitigated by the type and nature of raw materials available. A closerconnection may exist with neighboring European nonhandax assem-blages, but this must be demonstrated, not assumed, and may also beentirely a function of a common technological repertoire.

European Nonhandax Assemblages

Nonhandax assemblages are found in every inhabited region of Pleisto-cene Europe. In many areas, these have been historically regarded andinterpreted in a very similar fashion to the Clactonian (cf. Bietti and Cas-torini, 1992; Mussi, 1995; Raposo and Santonja, 1995), with the probabilityof considerable antiquity and separate cultural traditions a recurring themein the past, but raw material deficiencies and activity facies the order ofthe day. Many others are attributed to the middle Paleolithic, after thewidespread introduction of Levallois, and thus fall outside the scope ofthis review.

A detailed discussion of nonhandax assemblages from the EuropeanMiddle Pleistocene is not possible within the current review. However, abrief summary is necessary to demonstrate that nonhandax assemblagesmay occur in four main situations, each of which may require a differentset of interpretations.

1. Very early nonhandax assemblages from southern Europe that mayrelate to a presently poorly defined Early Pleistocene colonizationevent, prior to 780 kyr, by nonhandax-making populations (Carbo-nell et al., 1998). If their dating and artifactual characteristics proverobust, such sites may include Atapuerca TD-6, Spain (Carbonellet al., 1999), Monte Poggiolo, Italy (Peretto et al., 1998), Isernia,Italy (Peretto, 1991), Dmanisi, Georgia (Gabunia and Vekua, 1995),and Orce, Spain (Gibert et al., 1998).

2. Geographically isolated nonhandax assemblages in areas of Europewhere handaxes do not seem to have been widely produced. A large-scale and well-known example is the disparity between southern andsouthwestern Europe where handaxes are very abundant during theMiddle Pleistocene; and Northern, Central, and Eastern Europewhere handaxes are very rare or completely absent prior to OIS 8(Obermaier, 1924; McBurney, 1950; Svoboda, 1989; Bosinski, 1995).In the latter region nonhandax assemblages are present as either

36 White

small-sized industries where deliberate selection of small pebblesfor ‘‘smashing’’ is suggested to have taken place (Svoboda, 1987,1989), seen, for example, at Bilzingsleben (Mania and Weber, 1986;Mania, 1995), Schoningen (Thieme and Maier, 1995; Mania, 1995),and Vertesszollos (Vertes, 1965) or as heavy-duty tool-kits withlarge flakes, as, for example, at Wallendorf (Toepfer, 1961, 1968).The division between these two ‘‘technical provinces’’ is often ex-pressed in terms of a line trending NW–SE and roughly correspond-ing to the course of the Rhine. Sites in the latter region which docontain handaxes, such as Markkleeberg (Grahmann, 1955; Maniaand Baumann, 1980), Salzgitter-Lebenstedt (Tode, 1953, 1982), andHundisberg (McBurney, 1950; Toepfer, 1961), also contain Levalloiselements and are post-OIS 8 in age (cf. Svoboda, 1989). A verysimilar pattern has recently been highlighted in Central Asia, whereassemblages with handaxes cluster to the northwest and nonhandaxones to the southeast (Vishnyatsky, 1999); the Movius line providesanother well-known case in East Asia (Movius, 1948; Schick, 1994).

3. Chronologically discrete nonhandax assemblages often found in theregions where handaxes do occur, but appearing during grosslydefined periods when handaxes seem not to have been locally pro-duced. Some may be contemporary with handax assemblages inmore distant parts of Europe. The British Clactonian may be anexample of this type of occurrence.

4. The sporadic occurrence of essentially nonhandax assemblages inareas with abundant and probably contemporaneous handax indus-tries. As one is always dealing here with geological contemporaneityand lacking many fine-grained well-dated regional correlations, itis very difficult actually to pinpoint such occurrences. Two specificexamples may be found in the sites on the Le Harve littoral (Oheland Lechevalier, 1979) and at Elveden and Barnham (see below),while other nonhandax assemblages that may exist within a back-ground of contemporaneous local or regional handax occurrencescould include Quarto delle Cinfornare, Italy (Perretto et al., 1997),Venoso-Notarchirico alfa, E and E1, Italy (Mussi, 1995), and St.Colomban, Brittany (Monnier and Molines, 1993) as well as someof those assigned to the Tayacian.

If we dismiss the idea of discrete cultural traditions coexisting in the samearea, then local factors such as raw materials, functional facies, or even simplesampling problems may provide adequate explanations for the absence ofhandaxes in situation 4 and perhaps sometimes situation 2. However, thesefactorsoperateontemporalandspatial scales thatare just tooshort toprovide


a convincing explanations for cases 1 and 3, and the majority of case 2, wherelong-term cultural, environmental, and organizational processes may bemore suitable explanations. In other words, not all nonhandax assemblagesacross the whole of Europe necessarily have the same explanation. In myopinion, the dating of the British Clactonian clearly shows that there wereperiods when the hominids in Britain did not make classic handaxes; i.e., theybelong to the third case outlined above and may require a radically differentexplanation from many other nonhandax assemblages.

In the light of these perspectives and the new synthesis offered above,the remainder of this paper critically appraises the various interpretationsoffered over the past 20 years to explain the Clactonian.

INTERPRETING THE CLACTONIAN

The Clactonian as an Activity Facies of the Acheulean

The possibility that the Clactonian was not a discrete cultural entity butrepresented the localized or seasonal activities of a single nomadic group,who in some circumstances made handaxes but in others did not, has beenconsidered by a number of authors (e.g., Warren, 1922; Oakley, 1964). Onefairly common suggestion is that nonhandax assemblages may represent aspecial wood-working variant of the Acheulean, used in heavily wooded envi-ronments (e.g., Svoboda, 1989; see various comments below). A more testa-ble model was proposed by Ohel (1979; Ohel and Lechevalier, 1979). Havingconcluded that both debitage groups were essentially part of the same ‘‘par-ent population’’ (see above), Ohel suggested that the Clactonian and Acheu-lean represented different parts of a continuous sequence of reduction oc-curring at separate places in the landscape. Clactonian occurrences wereinterpreted as preparatory workshops where handaxes were roughed-out,while Acheulean sites were viewed as places where handaxes were finishedand used. [The spatial separation of the various knapping ‘‘sets’’ used in theproduction of Paleolithic implements has now been well documented at sitessuch as Boxgrove (Austin, 1994) and Barnham (Ashton, 1998).]

This argument could adequately explain the difference between thetwo assemblage-types—especially the absence of handaxes and thinningflakes—with the Clactonian essentially representing waste material, fail-ures, etc. In a separate case study, Ohel and Lechevalier (1979) used thisargument to explain the difference between two sites on the Le Havrelittoral: Station sous Marine, where handaxes were supposedly absent andStation Romain, which occurred in the same gravel deposit, yet containedabundant handaxes. In this case, it was argued that blanks were prepared

38 White

at the cliff collapse adjacent to Station sous Marine and then transportedto Station Romain for finishing. For these two sites, part of a contiguouspaleolandscape, this interpretation seems perfectly sound [see Austin (1994)for a similar phenomenon at Boxgrove]: the materials occur in the samecontext and same condition and both employed flint from the cliff collapse[and handaxes were subsequently found to be present in small numbers atStation sous Marine (Callow, 1979)].

When extended to the British Clactonian, though, critical problemsare apparent [see comments to Ohel (1979) and note implications for thewood-working hypothesis].

1. The total absence of rough-outs, broken handaxes, and thinningflake does not support the idea that handaxes were roughed out atClactonian sites. The roughouts identified by Ohel at Clacton andSwanscombe were interpreted as cores by other analysts (Bordes,1979; McNabb, 1992).

2. Excavated handax and nonhandax assemblages shows similar per-centages of fully cortical, semicortical, and noncortical flakes, indi-cating that all stages of knapping were routinely conducted as partof both strategies (McNabb, 1992). This contradicts the proposalthat the Clactonian is a roughing-out area. Previous claims for ahigh proportion of fully cortical flakes probably reflect collectionbias or fluvial sorting.

3. Sites such as Clacton and Swanscombe have been heavily smapledacross large segments of extensive paleolandscapes. Furthermore,some assemblages from these sites represent secondary accumula-tions of diverse material swept off the surrounding river margins,over a considerable area and over a long but essentially unknownperiod of time. If handaxes had been made or finished anywherein the vicinity, one might expect to find evidence of them in thesame gravel deposits (Newcomer, 1979).

4. There is no association between Clactonian assemblages and spe-cific, high-quality sources of raw material, as one might expect ifthey were ‘‘quarry sites’’ for the Acheulean (Wymer, 1979; Roe,1979). Clacton itself is on London Clay and the only local sourceof raw material is from the river gravels; some of the material mayeven be fresh flint introduced to the site from some distance, hardlythe hallmark of a classic quarry site.

5. Microwear has demonstrated that artifacts from the Clacton GolfCourse Site had been used for diverse tasks, including wood-working,hide-scraping, and cutting meat (Keeley, 1980, 1993; Roe, 1979). Thisdoes not support the idea that Clactonian sites were merely prepara-


tory workshops or that nonhandax assemblages represent onlywaste material.

6. The Clactonian and Acheulean do not overlap chronologically. Tobe accepted as parts of the same knapping complex, the two assem-blage types should occur throughout the Lower Paleolithic on later-ally continuous occupation horizons (cf. Roe, 1979).

A more fluid variant of the activity-facies model has recently beenforwarded by McNabb and Ashton (McNabb, 1992; Ashton and McNabb,1994). Rather than dichotomizing the Lower Paleolithic into two extremeassemblage types, they see handaxes as problem-solving devices, their fre-quency at a site being a direct correlate of the frequency of the ‘‘problem.’’Clactonian sites were simply the extreme end of a continuum where fewor no handaxes were required. In some cases, sampling biases may beoperating, with excavations randomly revealing only those parts of an other-wise Acheulean signature where handaxes were not present. As shown bythe recent discovery of in situ handaxes from the cobble band at Barnham, ina lateral continuation of the original Clactonian ‘‘knapping floor’’ (Ashton etal., 1994a, 1994b; Ashton, 1998), had the older excavations been situatedelsewhere then handaxes would have been found and the site, or at leastthis level within it, would never have been classified as Clactonian. Yetthere are difficulties with this proposal.

When addressing questions of sampling bias, it is wise to remember, asnoted above, that some Clactonian assemblages are in secondary context,representing spatially and time-averaged remains of innumerable activity ep-isodes. The widespread deposits that contain them have, furthermore, beenvery heavily sampled over almost a century, but still no classic handaxes havebeen found in a firm context. It is far easier to write off the high-resolutionsignatures, for example, the in situ Clactonian material from the SwanscombeLower Loam and Barnham ‘‘knapping floor,’’ as the result of small-scale sam-pling that by pure chance happened to locate an area of a site where for somereason handaxes were not made or used (task-specific foci), than it is to writeoff the entire Clacton Freshwater Bed, Barnham rolled series, or Swans-combe Lower Gravel using the same principles. Their variously derived na-tures should militate against the behaviorally induced sampling errors associ-ated with purely in situ signatures. Conversely, though, we can never be surethat 100% sampling of the Barnfield Pit Lower Loam would not still haveresulted in a total lack of handaxes.

One must also question whether the nature of many Lower Paleolithicsites is adequate to answer questions concerning specific activities or activityfoci. Even in the less disturbed nonhandax sites, we can rarely demonstrateoccupational contemporaneity, only geological contemporaneity (Conard

40 White

and Adler, 1997). In other words, they are palimpsests of immeasurableand probably unrelated activity episodes undertaken by hominids to achievea diverse range of shadowy tasks. In this case, intensity of occupationrather than activity facies is an equally parsimonious explanation for handaxfrequency but cannot explain their absence from the obviously well-usedClactonian sites. To support functional interpretations we require somegross explanation of why similar riverine locations with broadly comparablefaunal and floral resources should be habitually used over extremely longperiods for different tasks—some requiring handaxes, some not—and whyin some of the latter situations handaxes were later found to be necessary.These are all issues that need to be directly addressed and, if possible,answered, not glibly and implicitly assumed.

Recent use-wear analysis has demonstrated that in most cases handaxeswere involved primarily in various butchery activities (Keeley, 1980, 1993;Mitchell, 1996, 1998)—this seems to be the main ‘‘problem’’ they weredesigned to ‘‘solve.’’ To take this functional argument to its logical conclu-sion, then, nonhandax sites represent places where handaxes were notneeded, suggesting that the hominids who produced these industries werenot routinely butchering animals or at least the same types of animalsor animal parts, perhaps indicating different subsistence or procurementstrategies. This possibility has yet to be systematically tackled, although acursory comparison of the cut-marked animal bones from sites such asClacton, Swanscombe, Hoxne, and Boxgrove (cf. Binford, 1985; Stopp,1993; Roberts and Parfitt, 1999; Simon Parfitt, personal communication,1998) would suggest that it was not the case. Moreover, given the timescales involved, a variety of different strategies ranging from hunting to lateaccess scavenging, and multiple varied other activities, would be expected atboth types of sites. Furthermore, Keeley’s (1980, 1993) use-wear analysesindicated that practically identical activities were carried out at both Clac-tonian and Acheulean sites. So, to accept the functional argument we mustbelieve that, over vast periods of time, populations who had the capacityto make handaxes chose not to at certain locations, substituting other toolsin their place, even though they were carrying out the same set of tasksinferred for those places where they did make them. In short, no permuta-tion on the simple activity model, as currently formulated, is wholly convinc-ing as an explanation for the Clactonian.

The Clactonian as a Response to Local Raw Materials

Raw materials have in the past 20 years become something of anexplanatory panacea for Lower Paleolithic archaeologists. Several studies


have convincingly explained morphological variation in handaxes in termsof the type and form of the lithic resources used (Jones, 1979, 1981; Villa,1983; Ashton and McNabb, 1994; White, 1996, 1998). The use of small orpoor-quality raw materials has, of course, been advanced as a primaryreason for the absence of handaxes in many European Paleolithic contexts(Cahen, 1985; Rolland, 1986; Mussi, 1995, Raposo and Santonja, 1995;Peretto et al., 1997, inter alia), implying that other implements were expedi-ently substituted in their place by otherwise handaxe-making populations.Similarly, at Olduvai Gorge, Tanzania, sites assigned to the DevelopedOldowan B, containing sparse and irregular bifaces and usually locatedwithin 1 km of the lake, were originally suggested to represent a differentcultural tradition to the Acheulean, frequently found in river channels over1 km away from the lake and exhibiting abundant, better-made handaxes(Leakey, 1971; 1975; Hay, 1976). More recent arguments, however, haveproposed that differences in the type, form, and distribution of the rawmaterials used in these two industries (which may, in turn, relate to sitelocation, function, landscape use, and procurement strategies) are the majorcause of variation (Stiles, 1979; Jones, 1981).

In his doctoral thesis, McNabb (1992) suggested that the raw materialsat Clacton Golf Course and Jaywick Sands were small and rounded, makingthem totally inadequate for making handaxes. Raw material differencesmay also help explain some of the variation within the Clactonian itself,for example, the differences in flake size between sites, or the frequencyof various knapping techniques. However, while little detailed experimentalor analytical research has been conducted, a survey of the resources avail-able at British nonhandax sites suggests that most cannot be explained interms of raw material limitations.

During the period represented by the Lower Gravel at Swanscombe,suitable blocks were available from the river gravel and possibly some localChalk outcrops (Wymer, 1964). Indeed, the raw materials available fromthe Lower Gravel were often larger than those in the Lower Middle Gravel,yet the latter was used to make handaxes and the former was not. At LittleThurrock, large nodules were actively eroding from the local Chalk andwere also available from the bull-head beds in the Thanet Sands (Bridglandand Harding, 1993). At Purfleet, several complementary sources were avail-able from the local Chalk and gravels (Schreve et al., 2000), while at Barn-ham experimental replication has clearly shown that selected flints from thecobble band were sometimes adequate for handax manufacture (Wenban-Smith and Ashton, 1998). Even at Clacton, where the raw materials fromJaywick and the Golf Course have been described as predominantly small(Oakley and Leakey, 1937; Singer et al., 1973; McNabb, 1992), the rangeof flakes and cores in the various collections [with cores occasionally reach-

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ing �20 cm in maximum dimension (Singer et al., 1973)] allows us to inferthat pieces of sufficient size and shape to support handaxes were present.Many were certainly larger than some of the nodules used to make handaxesat Foxhall Road, Ipswich, or Swanscombe, Lower Middle Gravel (White,1996). When considering the raw materials at Clacton, it is also importantto remember that the various exposures once formed part of a continuous,contemporaneous landscape. It is not adequate to summarize the entiretyof the raw materials from Clacton based on select exposures in just onepart of this contiguous landscape.

Such explanations also view raw material use in a rather static fashion.It is true that most raw material procurement and use throughout theMiddle Pleistocene were essentially local, if not immediate (cf. Villa, 1983,1990; Green, 1988; Bergman et al., 1990; Floss, 1994; Feblot-Augustins,1997; Tuffreau et al., 1997; Mosquera-Martinez, 1998; Ashton, 1998). How-ever, when local raw materials were unsuitable, sparse, or nonexistent, thenhominids were congnitively and organizationally capable of transportingraw materials from elsewhere, as shown by raw material imports at severalEuropean and African Lower Paleolithic sites (e.g., Villa, 1990; Wymerand Singer, 1993; Feblot-Augustins, 1997; Mosquera-Martinez, 1998; Schick,1987; Potts, 1988). If the raw materials at the sites attributed to the Clacton-ian were really inadequate for handax manufacture, and the hominids therehad really wanted to produce handaxes, then materials or tools could havebeen introduced from outside the immediate area, eventually provisioningthe site by accident and/or design. This solution is suggested to have beenchosen at sites such as Hoxne, Lower Industry (Wymer and Singer, 1993),and Bowman’s Lodge and Wansunt, Dartford (White, 1998). Equally, othermaterials could have been substituted for stone, notable examples beingthe bone handaxes from lithic-poor locations such as Castel di Guido, Italy(Radmilli, 1984; Anzidei and Huyzendveld, 1992). If we assume that theraw materials at some Clactonian localities were unsuitable for handaxmanufacture, we still lack a methodology for determining whether hominidschose not to import materials or handaxes, or imported handaxes and thensubsequently took them away again, or whether handaxes did not form apart of their technical tradition. Unlike some of the European exampleshighlighted above, in Southern Britain suitable raw materials would almostcertainly have been available within a few kilometers and cannot be seenas a limiting resource on anything other than an immediate scale.

In an attempt to overcome some of the criticisms of previous models,Ashton (1998) has recently proposed the static resource model, which mergeskey elements of raw material and activity-facies models into a more realisticand dynamic framework. Roughly following Schick (1987), this hypothesispresents human behavior as a varied but essentially predictable socially and


environmentally driven response to the structure of the Pleistocene land-scape. Valuable static resources would have encouraged repeat visits to aparticular location, with the activities conducted there dependent on the re-source being targeted. The archaeological signatures at these locations wouldbe dense palimpsests of patches with overprinted scatters. If raw materialwere the resource targeted, then the assemblage might be dominated by lo-cally discarded material with varying but probably low levels of import andexport; but if some other resource, for example, vegetation, water, sleepingplaces, or shady trees, were targeted, then imported stone might have accu-mulated there by accident and design. Both locality types would be consid-ered archaeological sites. In contrast, the exploitation of mobile resourcesmight have led to a series of single discards or discrete activity areas over amuch wider landscape and would be archaeologically invisible or evidentonly in the context of large-scale, landscape-based archaeological projects.

Ashton (1998) illustrates the model with the examples of Barnhamand Elveden, two sites suggested to be contemporaneous and to lie ondifferent parts of the same river. At Barnham, knapping was concentratedaround a source of raw materials formed by a coarse lag gravel. The natureof the available flint is suggested to have encouraged core and flake working,with only occasional biface reduction on select nodules. At Elveden, though,flint was available from a similar gravel and from a Chalk river-bank—herecore and flake working is still common, but handaxes are far more abundant.So the rarity of handaxes at Barnham might reflect, individually or incombination, the general unsuitability of the materials or a specific focusin group activity, the latter perhaps even conditioned by the former. Simi-larly, the presence of occasional handaxes in the brickearths overlying andconcealing the cobble band might show a dramatic alteration in the resourcestructure of the local landscape, Barnham no longer a focus of activity buta place where isolated activities occurred.

Here, handax frequency depends on the resources available and thefashion in which humans organized themselves in the landscape. This modelobviously works perfectly for the primary context material at Barnham andElveden, the occurrences for which it was specially constructed, but faresrather less well when applied to other contexts. At Purfleet and LittleThurrock, for example, an Elveden-type situation obtained, but a Clacton-ian (Barnham-type?) assemblage resulted, while at Foxhall Road a Barn-ham-type situation seems to have prevailed, but an Acheulean assemblageresulted. The model is sufficiently robust to overcome such objections,though—these examples might relate to a quite different group focus whichmay be functionally, behaviorally, socially, or ‘‘raw materially’’ driven,depending on its location and specific appeal. At present, the main problemsin assessing this model are the chronological issues and the paucity of

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primary context archaeological assemblages with similar levels of informa-tion potential and sampling intensity.

Ad Hoc Versus Planned Behavior

In a recent overview, Wenban-Smith (1998) has also rejected claimsthat the Clactonian is nothing more than a locally forced variant or activityfacies of the Acheulean. Instead, he views the Clactonian in a more tradi-tional manner, as a discrete ‘‘techno-temporo-cultural’’ entity, and hasattempted to explain its character, its chronological distribution, and itsrelationship to the Acheulean in terms of changing planning behavior (cf.Binford, 1979, 1989) in an evolving interglacial landscape.

According to Wenban-Smith (1998), the Clactonian represents a simplead hoc industry produced opportunistically in an extremely flint-rich land-scape. Such landscapes, he suggests, would have characterized Britain follow-ing major glaciations, when retreating ice sheets would have left a landscapelittered with coarse fluvial and outwash gravels. Consequently, for the humaninhabitants, planning depth could be minimal and formal tools unnecessary:flint could have been procured immediately wherever and whenever needed,with ‘‘disposable’’ sharp-edged flakes and informal tools produced rapidlyand with a minimum of efforts. Later in the interglacial, he envisages thelandscape becoming flint-poor, with vegetation and accumulating fine-grained sediments concealing many flint sources. Under these conditions, anad hoc strategy is considered to have been inappropriate, demanding theadoption of a more heavily planned strategy involving formal tools that couldbe carried in anticipation of future use—i.e., handaxes.

Inherent in this hypothesis is the notion that cultural drift and sociallearning could act upon the preexisting bifacial element within Clactonianassemblages to arrive at the Acheulean, with no exogenous introductionof new technical traits. The chronology of the Clactonian outlined abovewould demand that this transformation occurred at least twice, presumablyas a response to similar conditions. The main question here is why thehandax should be repeatedly reinvented, or at least greatly elevated inimportance, form, and technique, to fulfill the requirements of a portabletool, when a selection of flakes or a selected core could provide the sameportability and greater flexibility. One might also ask why certain hominidsocieties, who presumably historically made handaxes, would simply aban-don this practice for a profligate ad hoc strategy, even if they really could.

The proposal that handaxes were habitually transported long distancesaround the landscape in anticipation of future use is based on speculationand extrapolation from very rare examples (few of which are from the


Middle Pleistocene), rather than on accumulated observations or the bulkof the evidence. It is true that handaxes were often transported away fromtheir location of manufacture, but they seem to be largely tethered to rawmaterial sources; the distance traveled and time in which they stayed withinthe technical system seem not to have been that great (Binford, 1989). Ona gross scale, the sheer density and association of handaxes and manufactur-ing debitage at many Acheulean sites, including those in primary context,actually suggest that handaxes were frequently produced, used, and dis-carded in the same broad location, without prolonged, long-distance trans-port. Specific high-resolution examples provide better evidence. In theBoxgrove horse-butchery episode (Pitts and Roberts, 1997; Austin et al.,1999), a group of hominids who had brought down a horse went on togather raw material from the chalk cliff, manufacture handaxes, and usethem in a single sequence that lasted only a few hours. Such behavior wouldseem to indicate a rather expedient approach to the manufacture and useof handaxes. Conversely, we know precisely nothing of the time or distancesover which selected cores or flakes were curated. Thus, there are few empiri-cal reasons to suppose that, other than the obvious differences in thetechnological procedures involved in their manufacture, handax use in-volved greater planning depth than did the use of cores and flakes.

It is also necessary to examine Wenban-Smith’s view of raw materialresources and their usage. If hominids really responded to basic raw materialavailability in the fashion suggested, then we might expect such a responseto local variations, with Clactonian assemblages found throughout an inter-glacial wherever raw materials were plentiful, but Acheulean ones whereraw materials were scarce. Even the briefest survey shows that this wasnot the case. Most sites, both handax and nonhandax, are situated aroundsources of abundant raw materials, either Chalk exposures (e.g., LittleThurrock, Purfleet, Elveden, Boxgrove) or river gravels (e.g., SwanscombeLower and Middle Gravel, Barnham, Stoke Newington). A decent flintsource seems to have formed a principal group focus, although both assem-blage types are also found in locations lacking an immediate source (HoxneLower Industry, Swanscombe Lower Loam), where other resources werelikely targeted (Ashton, 1998) and where a degree of planning was requiredto provision either people or places with lithic materials (Kuhn, 1995). Therelative rarity of artifacts in some of these finer deposits, though, perhapsconforms to Ashton’s predictions regarding shifting group foci and isolatedforaging events, rather than major changes in adaptive strategies. WhileWenban-Smith’s expectations regarding diminishing resources might befulfilled at some sites, in others the observed pattern is precisely the oppo-site: at Hoxne, the immediate availability of flint actually increased throughthe course of the Hoxnian, yet Acheulean industries occur throughout

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(Singer et al., 1993; White, 1998). As highlighted above, in other cases thereare no tangible differences in either the quality or the quantity of materialsused to make handax and nonhandax assemblages within single sequencesspanning an interglacial (e.g., compare the Swanscombe Lower Gravel andLower Middle Gravel or Lower Loam and Upper Loam). It is thereforeunclear why comparable resources (or lack of them) should elicit an adhoc response during one period of time, but in another demand a morecarefully planned strategy.

It can be counterargued that it was not the immediate or local resourcesthat conditioned hominid raw material use, but the gross availability on aregional scale. Given the small fragments of paleolandscapes that surviveintact and the difficulties of establishing contemporaneity, regional avail-ability is difficult to assess. It might seem plausible to suggest that rawmaterial availability would diminish throughout the course of an interglacialas a result of increased sedimentation and vegetation, but still most mini-mally disturbed Acheulean sites reveal an abundant regional raw materialbase within fluvial systems, chalk outcrops, and clay-with-flint exposures(White, 1998). Even if the early Hoxnian landscape were covered withoutwash gravels as suggested by Wenban-Smith, these would not be uni-formly coarse and many would be useless for artifact manufacture (DavidBridgland, personal communication, 2000). Again, there is little evidencethat raw materials were more plentiful on a regional scale during the earlierphases of interglacials, and while there was certainly a high level of subre-gional and local variation with (hardly predictable) fluctuations throughtime, changes in the general availability of flint across southern Englandcannot be demonstrated.

Equally, various lines of environmental evidence from the Hoxnianinterglacial indicate a complex sequence of vegetation change with complexmosaic environments (e.g., Turner, 1970; Kerney, 1971; Conway et al., 1996;Schreve, 1997). In general and at coarse scales, the pre- and early temperateperiods, during which the Clactonian occurred, appear to have been asforested (albeit with different suites of species) as the late temperate, whenthe Acheulean is found, if not during certain episodes more heavily so.Even during the more open phases, when grassland covered a greaterproportion of the landscape, it is unlikely that raw materials would havebeen more widely available. Indeed, whatever the precise character of themosaic, the very existence of a rich vegetation presupposes the widespreadpresence of soils and fine-grained sediments over the British landscapefrom the early Hoxnian onward. None of this conforms to Wenban-Smith’spredictions. Overall, while the in situ development of the Acheulean fromthe Clactonian must be seen as a possibility, the accepted portrait of richopen-mosaic woodland and abundant fauna in the Early Hoxnian does not


conform to Wenban-Smith’s post-apocalyptic vision of a barren, postglacialgraveyard lacking in anything but flint; nor does the Late Hoxnian appear tohave been a silt-choked blanket forest in which flint was a rare commodity.

Habitat, Group Size, and Social Learning

In a major review of the chronology, environment, and cultural affilia-tions of handax and nonhandax assemblages from western Europe, Collins(1969) proposed not only that the Clactonian and Acheulean were separatecultural lineages, but that there existed fundamental contrasts in habitatpreference and subsistence strategies between them. According to Collins,the Clactonian was associated with heavily wooded environments and peo-ples who practiced an essentially nonhunting subsistence strategy, whileAcheulean populations were characterized as big-game hunters who livedin open environments. While this interpretation was heavily criticized onboth empirical and theoretical grounds (see comments to Collins, 1969),its main assumptions have proved remarkably resilient.

Mithen (1994, 1996) has employed the proposed environmental divi-sion in an extremely though-provoking model that combines data fromarchaeology, primatology, ecology, and cognitive science. Mithen’s modelhinges upon a simple theoretical premise: that tool behavior and socialbehavior are intimately linked, with social learning providing the bridgebetween them. The dynamics of social learning within a social unit aresuggested to vary as a function of group size, which in turn is stronglycorrelated with the structure of the natural environment in which a particu-lar group lives (Mithen, 1994 and references therein). Two basic situationscan be described.

1. Hominids living in open environments will tend to congregate inlarge groups, a response to high predation risk and large resourcepackages. Such groupings will facilitate strong channels of socialtransmission, through exposure to many others and because preda-tion, resource distribution, and the myriad interpersonal problemsencountered in large groups will tend to produce strong kin bondsand frequent coalitions, meaning that young hominids will feed withand remain close to familiar adults from whom they can learn. Thiswill lead to high levels of social transmission, especially imitation,which, in terms of lithic technology, will produce regular, sharedpatterns of artifact form and high knapping skill. However, someof these factors would also work to suppress innovation: even thoughjuveniles tend to be the most innovative sector of society, close

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proximity to adults will tend to discourage experimentation. If inno-vation did occur, though, it would spread quickly, the rate and extentof transmission reflecting the high levels of social learning.

2. Conversely, hominids living in closed, forested conditions will tendto form small social units, because of small patchy food resourcesand low predation risk. With many of the internal costs of large-group life relaxed, small groups are likely to be less cohesive andjuveniles more independent of familiar adults. Channels of sociallearning will therefore be less well developed, with consequentlyhigher levels of trial-and-error learning. These groups will lack astrong social tradition and their lithic technology will show diverse,unstandardized techniques and forms. Overall knapping skill amongmembers of such groups will also be low, since the ratchet effect,whereby skill increases cumulatively through successive generationsand is passed on through imitation, is largely absent. Innovation maybe high, but any new developments will often fail to be transmitted,reflecting poor channels of social learning.

Mithen’s archaeological application of his model argues that theAcheulean, with its various expressions of handaxes and complex bifacialtechnology, reflects the strong social learning of large groups living innontemperate, open environments, while the Clactonian, with its lack offormal tools, putatively short procedural templates, and low skill require-ments, reflects the impaired social transmission of small groups living inclosed temperate woodlands. While this model provides a stimulating newtwist to an old debate, it suffers from a general lack of empirical support.

The key problem lies in the association of certain assemblage typeswith particular environmental regimes, the foundation upon which theentire chain of reasoning is built. There is little or no basis for the assertionthat the Acheulean is associated exclusively with nontemperate, open envi-ronments and the Clactonian with closed temperate woodlands. Breuil(1932) and McBurney (1950) even argued for precisely the opposite. It istrue that some Acheulean assemblages have been recovered from cold orcool climate gravels. It is also true that some have a direct association withthe inferred environment, being only minimally derived [e.g., Furze Platt,Berkshire (Bridgland, 1994), Purfleet Middle Gravel (Schreve et al., 2000)],but most are heavily derived and abraded assemblages without a firmstratigraphic association (McNabb and Ashton, 1995). Moreover, whenonly primary context or in situ Acheulean occurrences are considered, thepattern is almost exclusively one of temperate conditions, for example,Swanscombe, Boxgrove, Elveden, Barnham, Hoxne, Caddington, BeechesPit, and Hitchin, among others (Conway et al., 1996; Roberts and Parfitt,


1999; Ashton et al., 1998; Singer et al., 1993; Sampson, 1978; Preece et al.,1991; Boreham and Gibbard, 1995). The same is true of Clactonian sites,although these do seem to first appear during the late glacial/initial inter-glacial.

On the other hand, there is some evidence that during the Hoxnianthe appearance of the Acheulean did roughly correspond with an episodeof more open conditions, but this has yet to be demonstrated for any otherperiods. There is, though, no direct association between the Clactonianand closed temperate woodlands. Indeed, while far from perfect and subjectto various sampling biases, reconstructions of Quaternary environmentssuggest that the makers of both Clactonian and Acheulean assemblagesshared a common habitat preference. Both are associated predominantlywith temperate environments, both are frequently found adjacent to watersources, and most sites actually show a mixture of species suggesting acomplex mosaic environment of both open and forested habitats. Indeed,there is considerable debate regarding the ability of Middle Pleistocenehominids to cope with heavily wooded environments (Gamble, 1986, 1987;Roebroeks et al., 1992). Open fluviolacustrine habitats with diverse andabundant resources were extensively targeted by Middle Pleistocene homi-nids; the landscape at Clacton, for example, has been interpreted as opengrassland in the valley floor, flanked by woodland on the margins (Turnerand Kerney, 1971).

McNabb and Ashton (1995) further criticized Mithen’s characteriza-tion of Clactonian and Acheulean technology, again emphasizing the simi-larities in core-and-flake working techniques and maintaining that thesefail to show any differences in social learning. I generally agree with Mithen(1995), however, that the regular handaxes in the Acheulean are an additionto a basic technology, and, as such, show some fundamental differences inthe socially maintained knapping repertoires of Clactonian and Acheuleanhominids, which may further relate to the contrasting dynamics of sociallearning and group size. The latter, however, do not correspond in thisinstance to differences in the habitats exploited. Wenban-Smith (1996) haspointed out that while Mithen suggests that wooded conditions wouldnegatively affect social learning, other workers (e.g., Gamble, 1986, 1987)have argued that the difficulties involved in coping with heavily forestedenvironments would actually require strong and elaborate social networks,probably enhancing rather than suppressing social transmission.

Nevertheless, Mithen should be applauded for raising the Clactoniandebate above mere function and raw materials. While Mithen’s preciseapplication of his model falters on empirical grounds, his renewed emphasison social factors as a cause of some lithic variation is welcome and timely.Most recently, Kohn and Mithen (1999) have suggested that handaxes were

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not exclusively part of a functional technology, but also a social one, beingused to signal a male’s selective fitness. The absence of handaxes fromsome contexts would here reflect arenas where such social signals wereunnecessary or where another strategy was being used.

Population Dynamics and Colonization Patterns

Most of the recent interpretations of the Clactonian view it as auniquely British phenomenon, ignoring the fact that for much of the past500 kyr Britain existed as a peninsula of Atlantic Europe, with only shortperiods of insularity during each interglacial (Preece, 1995; White andSchreve, 2000). Many also ignore the temporal pattern, deeming it anartifact of sampling size and opting instead for localized adaptive solutions.

White and Schreve (2000) have recently proposed a biogeographicalebb-and-flow framework for the human settlement of Britain, that linksthe patterns of occupation evident in the British archaeological record withthe paleogeographical and climatic fluctuations in the geological one (cf.Breuil, 1932). They suggest that extremely harsh environmental conditionswould have caused the human abandonment of Britain during each glacialmaximum. Once the climate had ameliorated and the landscape had suffi-ciently recovered to support a thriving biomass, human (and animal) popu-lations from Europe would have begun to recolonize the virtually emptyBritish landmass across the dry North Sea and/or Channel Basin (cf. Turner,1992). Employing the recurrent, diachronous pattern of exclusive non-handax occurrences during the early Hoxnian and subsequent (OIS 9)interglacial, giving way to Acheulean signatures later in each interglacial,they propose that the Clactonian is a signature of initial recolonization withonly the main, later occupation being host to handax-making populations.The absence of this pattern from subsequent interglacials is argued to relateto the introduction of Levallois technology to much of northwestern Europearound OIS 8. Later recolonization events therefore herald the arrival ofLevallois technology and a different behavioral repertoire (cf. Bridgland,1994; White and Pettitt, 1996).

However, this proposal does not actually explain the Clactonian, onlyits chronological distribution. It is still necessary to outline precisely whythe earliest recolonization should have been characterized by nonhandaxassemblages—a much more difficult undertaking. White and Schreve raiseseveral possibilities, all with inherent strengths and weaknesses.

It is possible that the Clactonian relates to the process of pioneeringcolonization. Hypothetically, if the earliest settlers to move across the NorthSea and Channel Basins after a major glaciation were characterized by


small populations, relatively isolated on the periphery and in restrictedenclaves, then the social conditions they experienced might have inducedvariations in social learning along the lines proposed by Mithen (1994; cf.Aldhouse Green, 1998; Toth and Schick, 1993), causing handaxes to phaseout of use over a minimal number of generations. Later groups may havebeen larger and maintained larger networks, allowing them to disperse andsettle with no deleterious effects on social learning or technology. Wenban-Smith (1996) offered a similar proposal based on Mithen’s approach, sug-gesting that pre-Anglian social groups could have experienced environmen-tal stresses and social splintering during the Anglian glaciation, causing abreakdown in social learning and the loss of sophisticated handax technol-ogy. The Clactonian would, in this account, represent an impoverishedvariant of the Acheulean (Narr, 1953, cited by Narr, 1979), a short-livedtechnical tradition in which the knowledge of handax manufacture hadbeen lost. In this regard, it is interesting to note that in other areas of theOld World the earliest evidence of human occupation often appears tocommence with a nonhandax signature, for example, Ubeidiya, Israel (Bar-Yosef, 1994), Atapuerca, Spain (Carbonell et al., 1999) and Monte Poggiolo,Italy (Peretto et al., 1998).

Alternatively, one must consider a more traditional interpretation builtupon those advanced by Breuil (1932), Wymer (1968), or Roe (1981): thatthe Clactonian and Acheulean reflect two waves of colonization by differentpopulations from different regions of Europe, each with its own historicallymaintained technological repertoire. In this case, early colonization mayhave originated from the nonhandax ‘‘province’’ of Northwestern and Cen-tral Europe, with the Acheulean arriving later from more distant refugiato the south. Such an explanation does not require us to return to vilifiednotions of separately evolving parallel phyla ethnically defined by theirmaterial culture, but advocates fluctuating local and regional populationswhose material culture and technical traditions vary by virtue of socialdistance (Mellars, 1996): they do not share a common landscape, a commonrecent history, or a common body of technological knowledge. To acceptthis, though, one needs to understand why the Acheulean should occursecond on two separate occasions, and while it is possible to outline severalpossible factors (ecological barriers, social barriers, physical barriers, ormore distant refugia), it is almost impossible to choose between them. Ofcourse, in this (and the above) explanation, one has to bear in mind thepossibility that Clactonian populations were not replaced by, but evolvedin situ into, Acheulean ones. Also, while such an interpretation may explainthe Clactonian itself, it does not explain why there seem to be no handax-making populations in Northern and Central Europe until the arrival ofthe Levallois technique. This is clearly an issue in need of further research.

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The Island Britain model expands the Clactonian problem to a Euro-pean scale and demands that we look once again at population ebb andflow, colonization patterns, social structure, and relationship (or lack of)between hominid networks in various parts of Europe. However, at presentit leaves many questions unanswered.

DISCUSSION AND CONCLUSION

The history of the Clactonian faithfully chronicles the story of LowerPaleolithic research in the twentieth century. The different interpretationsoffered over the past 80 years reflect their position in history and theirpopular life span generally lasts only as long as the paradigm that spawnedthem. One of the biggest problems we now face relates simply to thehistorical baggage surrounding the Clactonian and Acheulean—even thenames conjure up particular sets of popularly perceived traits. Perhaps thetime truly has come to abandon the traditional nomenclature (cf. Robertset al., 1995; McNabb, 1996b), but this semantic solution will bring us nocloser to resolving the Clactonian question.

There are currently two basic approaches to the Clactonian. The firstaccepts that there are two assemblage-types, those with handaxes and thosewithout, and offers solutions to explain this. As shown above, workers inthis tradition attempt to define and evaluate the Clactonian in their ownterms, but never do they seriously question its validity as an archaeologicalphenomenon, whatever it may mean behaviorally, socially, ecologically, ortechnologically.

The second way is to see the Clactonian as an anachronism, a constructoriginally created to fill a void in a now-moribund theoretical paradigmaimed at recognizing identity rather than behavior, later sustained by specialpleading and selective acknowledgment of the data, and which Britisharchaeologists now seem bafflingly unable to abandon (McNabb, 1996b).In this view, the Clactonian just does not exist. Although I have previouslysubscribed to this view, I can no longer support it. Various models havebeen used to explain the Clactonian and the data may have been manipulateand (mis-)read to fit them, but the Clactonian was not created out of nothingto fulfill the preconceptions of a theoretical framework. Indeed, for some10 to 20 years after the first discoveries at Clacton, Swanscombe, and LittleThurrock, the data could not be explained at all and were largely ignored(e.g., British Museum, 1926). Later, as new theoretical frameworks devel-oped, they were forced to take account of the Clactonian. The bottom lineis that there is an observable archaeological phenomenon to be explained,not explained away.


Running through all arguments regarding the Clactonian is the as-sumed status of the handax and its use as an instrument of taxonomicclassification, an actuality that to some extent is a product of its role in thehistory of archaeology. Still, the longevity and abundance of handaxesacross much of the Old World can leave little doubt that they were asignificant part of hominid adaptive life and an important social phenome-non, being culturally generated and transmitted over hundreds of millenniathrough the nonbiological mechanisms of social learning (see summariesby Steele and Shennan, 1996; Mithen, 1994). While their form may varyas a response to local raw material conditioning (Jones, 1979, 1981; White,1998), we should not be afraid of attributing their overall presence/absenceto differences in the bodies of social knowledge possessed by Paleolithicsocieties and the ways in which these were maintained and transmitted.Others have questioned whether the paleosocial dynamics of Middle Pleis-tocene hominids in Europe could sustain separate handax-, and non-han-dax-making populations (Rolland, 1998) and whether activity facies andraw materials do not provide a better answer. However, the truth is thatwe know very little of how Paleolithic societies were organized, but we doknow that raw materials and function can explain only some nonhandaxassemblages. To deny the possibility of such social traditions does nottally with what we know of even chimpanzee material culture (Whiten etal., 1999).

If the importance of handaxes has been overplayed, if they were notas vital to Paleolithic society as they seem to be to Paleolithic archaeologists,then there should be few problems in conceiving of entire populations whohabitually survived without them. After all, one of the most frequentlyasked questions about handaxes is why hominids went to all that botherwhen a simple flake would have sufficed. The alternative is to see a uniformglobal technology (raised above the baseline elements), which seems evenless likely, given the widespread assumption that hominid populations inEurope were fairly small and isolated with circumscribed, exclusive net-works that ebbed and flowed in response to climatic and other variables(Gamble, 1986, 1993; Foley and Lahr, 1997). Perhaps the surprising thingis the relative unity within the Lower Paleolithic record, although thisprobably stems from the rudimentary nature and limited possibilities inher-ent in the technologies that survive.

So how do we explain the Clactonian? There is no easy answer to this,and as the data are often of alarmingly low resolution and lend themselvesto different interpretations, all with their own inherent strengths and weak-nesses, it is actually difficult to reach a solid conclusion. However, anyexplanation now needs to accommodate the typological disparity but tech-nological parity with the Acheulean and the proposed recurrent temporal

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distribution at the beginning of two separate Middle Pleistocene intergla-cials. Much of the time, explanations are favored not by virtue of theirintrinsic capacity to explain the data but by how well they relate to apopular, often passing, theoretical trend.

What is clear, though, is that the basic canon of ‘‘processual’’ interpreta-tion favored in recent years, such as function and raw materials, althoughpossibly good explanations for some nonhandax occurrences (Villa, 1983;Rolland, 1998), does not really seem to fit the Clactonian evidence verywell at all, at least not in any short-term, monocausal formulation. Wecould possibly come up with reasons why handaxes are absent from mostClactonian sites—making a special case for each instance—but this smacksof arguing the Clactonian away in order to conform to the current geist,rather than actually explaining it. Such a procedure usually stalls when thechronology is brought into the picture. We need to provide not only muchmore dynamic and realistic pictures of hominid behavior (e.g., Ashton) butseriously to reconsider the possibility that the presence/absence of handaxesreflects true differences in the societies and social technologies of differenthominid groups (e.g., Mithen). To assess such ideas, more sites of the caliberof Barnham and Swanscombe are certainly required and several old sitesneed new attention with specific questions in mind. A complete resolutionwill perhaps never be forthcoming, but we certainly need to rethink theintrospective approach that has characterized the Clactonian debate formuch of the past 20 years. The Clactonian needs to be reexamined on aregional, European scale, taking account of paleosocial dynamics, adaptivestrategies, and the sociohistorical effects of proximate circumstance onlong-term traditions. We will never understand the Clactonian if we lookno farther than the end of Clacton Pier.

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

I would like to thank Nick Ashton, Paul Pettitt, and David Bridglandfor reading and commenting on early drafts of this paper. I am particularlyindebted to John McNabb and Nick Ashton for many stimulating hoursspent debating the Clactonian question over the past 10 years. As always,any inadequacies remain entirely my own.

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white, the clactonian question

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