Note: I originally had these tweets curated on Storify.
One of the most high-profile parts of paleontology is the field work. I would bet my last bag of Earl Grey Special (note: must order more tea) that when one thinks of paleontology, the word conjures images of rocky badlands terrain and a small group of people wearing big hats and vests and bandannas crouched in a sun-beaten rocky quarry, dusting off bones that haven’t seen the light of day in 74 million years. It’s like a scientifically-endorsed treasure hunt, and people want to be of that story.
With the excitement that fieldwork invokes comes ill-informed opinions. If I had a dollar for every time I have heard this “great idea,” the research program could operate for years off of the interest alone.
I get a bit cranky when I hear/read “Hey, I’d totes pay $$ to spend time w the palaeontologists!” I don’t think many view what we do as WORK
β Dr. Lisa Buckley π¦ (@Lisavipes) January 28, 2016
The perception of the general public on what paleontology fieldwork (or any fieldwork) is actually influenced by a lot of entertainment media, I’m afraid. You aren’t shown the ACTUAL hard work (unless it’s “heroic”) that goes into a field expedition.
I understand ppl want to have experience of exploration & discovery, but when it comes to our specific fieldwork it’s NOT “as seen on TV”
β Dr. Lisa Buckley π¦ (@Lisavipes) January 28, 2016
Some field sites are actually amenable to paying customers who want to have an experience vacation. There are two key features of these sites: accessibility and emergency coverage (cell phone coverage, within a short driving distance of emergency medical facilities, ability to get vehicles in and out of the site reliably). When I ask the tourism/marketing people who come to me with this Great Idea (TM) whether they are going to pay to have a helicopter on standby for emergency evacuations, or if they will cover the cost of a satellite phone, I get dirty looks and hear the sound of crickets.
However, the fieldwork that my colleague and I do is NOT amenable to adventure tourism for a variety of logistical, financial, and practical reasons.
I’ll break down why we, as palaeontologists, would make lousy “attractions” for tourists.
1. We have no sites that are paintbrush friendly.β Dr. Lisa Buckley π¦ (@Lisavipes) January 28, 2016
This means that none of our sites are workable w only a light awl, hammer, and a paintbrush. OUR ROCK IS FRUSTRATINGLY HARD.
β Dr. Lisa Buckley π¦ (@Lisavipes) January 28, 2016
How hard? The rock at our Late Cretaceous (Turonian) site is so hard that we actually broke our traditional excavation tools trying to work it. All of the excavating at that site has to be done with pneumatic tools, which bring with them their own safety risks.
WE get frustrated with it. Our Turonian site: bone is consistency of shaker cheese, rock is concrete. ALL air scribe work. ALL stress.
β Dr. Lisa Buckley π¦ (@Lisavipes) January 28, 2016
Even our “classic” sites, like the B.C. hadrosaur (a.k.a. “duck-billed dinosaur” site, although calling hadrosaurs duck-billed dinosaurs is actually inaccurate!), have their own set of not-visitor-friendly frustrations.
Our duck-billed dinosaur site: iron concretions coat most bones. They break where they want to break, which means right through the bone.
β Dr. Lisa Buckley π¦ (@Lisavipes) January 28, 2016
So why does this make our kind of paleontology a bad fit for adventure/experiential tourism?
No one goes into an “adventure tour” wanting to experience endless frustration. No one would want to repeat that. Bad business.
β Dr. Lisa Buckley π¦ (@Lisavipes) January 28, 2016
That’s when we have a site to excavate. The bulk of our fieldwork time is spent looking for these sites (a.k.a. paleontology field surveys). Paleontology field surveys are no pleasant stroll down a groomed forest path.
That’s when we actually find a site. Prospecting for dinosaurs in BC IS BLOODY HARD WORK. No, not “I worked out hard at the gym hard”. HARD.
β Dr. Lisa Buckley π¦ (@Lisavipes) January 28, 2016
2. The terrain is not badlands. It’s bush. It’s inaccessible wilderness that we slog through to find.
β Dr. Lisa Buckley π¦ (@Lisavipes) January 28, 2016
There are no trails.
We HAVE to explore steep exposures bc that’s the highest chance of rock. Those are not easy “hikes”. We aren’t hiking.β Dr. Lisa Buckley π¦ (@Lisavipes) January 28, 2016
I have a pair of hiking boots that I specifically use for these types of surveys. They’re called Bog Boots because of the countless beaver-dammed areas we’ve had to slop through. That smell never leaves your boots, BTW.
Downed trees
Sinkholes
KMs of beaverdams & bogs
MOSQUITOES & DEERFLIES
BIG FUZZY SCARED/ANGRY/DEFENSIVE CRITTERS
Hands & knees steep hillsβ Dr. Lisa Buckley π¦ (@Lisavipes) January 28, 2016
Oh, we also cannot control the wildlife. We cannot guarantee we will not encounter cranky wildlife. We can’t guarantee that someone will see wildlife. That’s a big difference between an adventure/experiential tourist and a fieldworker: a tourist may want to have a wildlife encounter they can photograph and tell stories about. If we encounter a bear in the field, that means we weren’t loud enough to warn the bear we were coming. [One day I’ll tell you about the person who lives in this region who complained that their visiting family didn’t see wildlife on the highway drive and that “something” should be done to guarantee highway sightings. Pro tip: you really don’t want to see moose on the highway.]
Since our field surveys are not pleasure hikes, there isn’t a lot of time for dawdling (a term used by my Granny and great-aunt Molly).
Oh, and “hey, let’s take a break and admire the scenery”? LOL NO. We have a short field season, and A LOT of unsurveyed ground to cover.
β Dr. Lisa Buckley π¦ (@Lisavipes) January 28, 2016
We have done hundreds of hours of field surveying that have not resulted in an excavatable fossil find. That’s pretty standard for our kind of mountainous inaccessible terrain.
When ppl pay $$ for something, they are (conscious or no) expecting something more than blisters, sunburn, mozzie bites, & dehydration.
β Dr. Lisa Buckley π¦ (@Lisavipes) January 28, 2016
We don’t get disheartened because we expect to put in this kind of effort. We are not guaranteed a “reward.” However, there is an expectation from a paying tourist that they will be rewarded for spending their money.
There are also real dangers associated with fieldwork. This is a danger that myself and my colleague knowingly and willingly accept…for ourselves. The risks and hazards of being in the wilderness without the promise of immediate assistance is difficult to explain to someone who has not experienced that level of isolation.
An example: lightning in the alpine.
How about our being caught in HUGE thunder&lightening storm in the alpine. NOWHERE was safe. Spent 3hrs under guide tarp as hell rained down
β Dr. Lisa Buckley (@Lisavipes) January 28, 2016
We actually were prepping each other: “OK, if we get hit by lightening, the first one awake has to emergency 1st aid the others.”
β Dr. Lisa Buckley π¦ (@Lisavipes) January 28, 2016
We could not have the sat phone w us under the tarp – all the surveyors we heard of struck by lightening? Hit on the phone.
β Dr. Lisa Buckley π¦ (@Lisavipes) January 28, 2016
This is all to say that the paleontology fieldwork that people see on TV is HEAVILY edited. It’s the “Good Parts” version of fieldwork. Like reading the “good parts” version of the Princess Bride. All of the day-to-day realities of “dinosaur hunting” are removed to make the story “exciting.”
Edited out of TV palaeo:
No bathrooms
Injury
The grumpies (we all get them)
Crushing disappointment
More time spent looking than finding.β Dr. Lisa Buckley π¦ (@Lisavipes) January 28, 2016
Want to know a secret (that is totally not a secret to anyone who does fieldwork)? If you participate in a “pay-to-dig” program, all of the hard parts have been pre-edited for you. It’s a programmed experience. For example, there were summer students, graduate students, and researchers who removed the overburden (the meters of rock that cover a dinosaur skeleton) before the paying participants arrived to find the bones.
Summers of hard physical work will take a toll on your body. I am a walking accumulation of fieldwork-related injuries.
4. Injuries Happen
My accumulated injuries are:
Carpal tunnel
A permanently damaged hip flexor
30% corneal scrape
SO MANY SCARSβ Dr. Lisa Buckley π¦ (@Lisavipes) January 28, 2016
That’s without me taking unnecessary risks. I can’t do the weekend warrior nonsense because I can’t afford to. My physical health is a big part of my livelihood. Unfortunately, I’ve seen too many weekend volunteers take risks because, hey, they are only out there for a few days. They get cranky when I say NO. They don’t understand that their safety in my hands. If they are injured that is on my head ethically, morally, and legally. But a paying person is going to want some “adventure.” If we don’t “provide” adventure they try to make their own by taking risks.
Climbing beyond their comfort zone.
Lifting something too heavy for them.
Rushing when using a pick & hammer.
BLOOD OWIES ALL OF THEM.β Dr. Lisa Buckley π¦ (@Lisavipes) January 28, 2016
This brings us to an important but little-discussed part of managing a fieldwork team: Field Administration.
Think about a new person starting off in your company. While you are training, you are not 100% doing your own primary work. Part of your job becomes doing your work AND reviewing the trainee’s work to provide feedback. We have a strict policy of one volunteer per trained staff on digs. Overseeing one person means that I can catch whoopsies before they happen. Usually, the Curators end up supervising both volunteers and trainees.
And mistakes WILL happen. That’s part of learning. The most common mistakes for new volunteers/staff are digging too fast or too hard (quarry rock requires a certain level of patience and experience) and not keeping on top of self-care. This is why we screen volunteers for ATTITUDE over previous skills. Skills can be learned, but you can’t un-train a bad ‘tude in one field season. Unfortunately, if you accept paying people you cannot screen for attitude. You have to take their attitude along with their money.
Here’s a list of bad field-itudes that I’ve encountered over the years:
Bad field ‘tudes include:
Acting like you know it all (when you don’t – I’ve seen this damage fossils)β Dr. Lisa Buckley (@Lisavipes) January 28, 2016
I’ve seen the above manifest in a few ways, including older people not respecting the expertise of younger supervisors, and gendered-biases of who is “in charge” on a field-based project.
– CREEPY BEHAVIOR: we had to remove one volunteer bc of that (he was getting drunk & watching me sleep)
β Dr. Lisa Buckley π¦ (@Lisavipes) January 28, 2016
Oh yes: sexual harassment is a pervasive problem in fieldwork.
Other Bad ‘Tude Bears issues we faced are people who refuse to partake in ANY self-care (even when reminded), people who are negligent about the safety of others, and what I call the Dashed Expectations Complaining. Yes, this is hard work. No, we can’t do something “more fun” because we only have three weeks to do this dig. Bad attitudes can be more infectious than good attitudes, and someone with a realistic outlook on fieldwork is going to feel more pressure to be hap-hap-HAPPY to counteract a Bad ‘Tude Bear. That can be emotionally draining. Whether you’re in an office or under an excavation tarp, you can’t escape office personnel issues.
Pro-tip: our best field technicians came to us 100% untrained but with a positive can-do, ready-to-learn attitude. Now they are skilled and still have a great outlook on fieldwork. I will choose attitude over skill every darn time.
When a scientist is out in the field doing fieldwork, they are there to do a very specific job in a specified timeframe. They are not there to act as a tour guide. There are also ecological and cultural aspects to the “turn every dig into a business opportunity” mentality.
A big one is regarding whose land you are operating on. If you’re in North America, you are doing your research on lands that are Indigenous lands. If you want to find out whose lands you are working on, check out this link: https://native-land.ca/ You absolutely must consult with the traditional landowners before embarking on your work. If there is the desire to open up an area for tourism reasons, I feel that decision should be made by the traditional landowners.
If you respect the work that field scientists do, you will ask for their honest opinion regarding the different levels of access they feel they can accommodate in terms of experiential tourism. This includes education-based programming: if it’s too risky to bring adults to an area, it is most certainly too dangerous for children to be present. Your local scientist likely has ideas of areas that are amenable to this kind of development, but remember: the priority for these sites is still the science, and they will not hesitate to tell you no if the sites are too sensitive for this type of activity. These sites still need to be properly surveyed to ensure there won’t be any detrimental impacts to the heritage, natural history, or cultural stewardship of the area.
A site is not important just because you think that you can make money off of it or “promote” an area, region, or town. These sites record our common heritage, the story of what the area was and how we fit into that complex story. If we make a bad call and a site is damaged, we’re never going to get another chance to correct that mistake. That chapter of the story is lost forever. Preserving that story is our foremost priority, and I choose to err on the side of what’s best for the heritage.