Archaeology: A Harbour for Fantasists?

July 20, 2025 Trebor2510

Introduction

Why are so many people captivated by archaeology? Is it the thrill of unearthing lost civilisations, the mystery of ancient monuments, or something deeper rooted in our minds? Archaeology taps into powerful aspects of human psychology beyond the mere study of the past. Here’s a breakdown of what drives this fascination. (Archaeology: A Harbour for Fantasists).

1. The Need for Connection to Our Origins

From a psychological standpoint, humans have an innate need to understand where they come from. Archaeology offers a tangible link to our collective past. It reassures us that we belong to a larger, ongoing story of humanity. The desire to “know thyself” is not limited to individuals; cultures and societies also seek self-understanding through their historical roots.

This yearning is magnified in times of uncertainty, societal upheaval, or technological acceleration, when the modern world feels disorienting or disconnected. People turn to archaeology not just for historical facts, but for emotional anchoring. Rediscovering a shared origin provides a psychological sense of meaning and stability, even if the interpretations are speculative or mythologised. Archaeology offers a tangible link to our collective past. It reassures us that we belong to a larger, ongoing story of humanity. The desire to “know thyself” is not limited to individuals; cultures and societies also seek self-understanding through their historical roots.

2. Curiosity and the Allure of Mystery

Archaeology offers all the elements of a good mystery: clues, puzzles, hidden meanings, and revelations. Our brains are wired to seek patterns and solve problems. Sites like Stonehenge or Göbekli Tepe trigger a deep psychological itch: we want to know who built them, how, and why. These mysteries give us cognitive stimulation and emotional engagement.

But archaeology is different from most sciences. Archaeology often deals with incomplete evidence unlike biology or physics, which rely heavily on predictable systems and experimental validation. And this opens the door to something else entirely: interpretation.

3. The Collapse of Certainty: Experts and the Unknown

3.1 The Failure of Academic Authority

What separates archaeology is that the so-called “experts” have often failed to explain the big questions. When it comes to ancient monuments, forgotten structures, and inexplicable patterns, the academic response frequently defaults to vague explanations: “ceremonial”, “ritual”, or “symbolic”. In other sciences, unknowns are acknowledged as open questions. In archaeology, unknowns are too often explained away with convenient, unprovable narratives.

This lack of certainty has drawn in a different crowd: the fantasists, the storytellers, and the speculative thinkers. Because if the experts don’t know, then maybe anyone can have a valid guess. And perhaps they can—because the academic gatekeeping has eroded its own authority.

3.2 Psychological Projection and Escapism

Consequently, the discipline is now flooded with a wide range of unscientific ideas. It has become a refuge for individuals with unresolved issues who project meaning onto landscapes in the same way others might see shapes in clouds. Hills become animals, valleys become symbols, and every bump in the ground is imbued with ancestral consciousness. These individuals often claim the ancients were in touch with a higher state of awareness, not through evidence, but through romanticised assumptions, sometimes fuelled by altered states of consciousness.

But the truth is often more psychological than spiritual: it is not that the ancestors were stoned into enlightenment, but rather that modern viewers use archaeology to validate their own personal narratives and escape from reality. In doing so, archaeology becomes a mirror for psychological projection, rather than a method of discovery.

3.3 Social Media Amplification and Delusional Trends

Increasingly, what we observe are textbook psychological symptoms presenting as historical interest. The trend mirrors patterns found in delusional ideation, dissociative fantasy, and pattern projection, where people unconsciously impose structure and meaning onto ambiguous stimuli, known in clinical psychology as pareidolia. This tendency becomes amplified on social media, where the echo chamber effect reinforces pseudoscientific beliefs with likes, shares, and uncritical praise. What begins as curiosity becomes obsession, often linked to underlying paranoid, narcissistic, or schizotypal traits.

It is no coincidence that the explosion of bizarre archaeological claims—from ancient aliens to energy vortexes and psychic stone circles—has paralleled the rise of TikTok mysticism, YouTube pseudohistory, and influencer-driven spiritual narratives. Social media platforms reward novelty over accuracy, and as a result, archaeology has become not just misunderstood but actively weaponised by the mentally unwell to justify disconnection from consensus reality.

Among the most persistent anti-scientific fixations is the obsession with archaeoastronomy. While some alignments may be valid, the field has become increasingly absurd, with proponents claiming that stones were aligned with celestial bodies to a fraction of a degree, levels of precision that would have been impossible without modern instruments. If alignment were the goal, wooden poles would have worked just as well, offering height and visibility rather than requiring 25-ton megaliths that had to be dragged and positioned with superhuman accuracy. The lack of practical logic behind these theories makes their persistence revealing: they are less about evidence and more about feeding the mystical narrative.

From there, it’s a short leap to extraterrestrial stone transport theories, levitation by sound, and a cascade of beliefs involving ley lines and crop circles—non-existent, mathematically impossible, or deliberately fabricated phenomena. The refusal to consider mundane or testable explanations (like pranksters stomping wheat with boards) is not evidence of open-mindedness but an example of motivated reasoning, where belief precedes investigation.

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4. Projecting Modern Violence onto the Ancient Past

At the same time, another psychological force is at play: moral projection. Some individuals, burdened by the guilt and brutality of recent centuries—colonialism, imperialism, and relentless warfare—attempt to offload these traits onto prehistory. They construct distorted narratives that portray our ancestors as bloodthirsty tribal killers, creating tales of prehistoric violence to justify or equalise modern conflict. Canals become battle lines, and earthworks become hillforts, not because of evidence, but because of emotional need. This retroactive blaming of ancient peoples is often a subconscious effort to externalise modern violence and preserve a sense of moral balance by rewriting the past as equally savage, imagining lost civilisations as more noble, wise, or spiritually advanced. This reflects a common psychological bias: the idea that there was a “better time” before modern complications. Archaeology gives form to these myths, allowing people to project their ideals onto ancient societies.

5. The Power of Storytelling

Humans are natural storytellers. Archaeology provides the fragments, and our minds eagerly construct narratives. Whether it’s imagining the life of a Neolithic farmer or the fall of a Bronze Age city, these stories help us make sense of our own lives. They provide context, continuity, and sometimes cautionary tales.

What’s more concerning is that the academic establishment encourages much of this imaginative storytelling. Rather than apply scientific discipline, many archaeologists have embraced speculative interpretation. Theories are often presented not as hypotheses to be tested but as dramatic narratives to be believed. This institutional indulgence in myth-making gives licence to public fantasy—and blurs the line between education and entertainment.. Archaeology provides the fragments, and our minds eagerly construct narratives. Whether it’s imagining the life of a Neolithic farmer or the fall of a Bronze Age city, these stories help us make sense of our own lives. They provide context, continuity, and sometimes cautionary tales.

6. Identity and Belonging

For some, archaeology reinforces national, regional, or cultural identity. Discoveries can affirm a group’s historical presence and legitimacy. On a personal level, visiting ancient sites can feel like a pilgrimage, affirming one’s connection to heritage or ancestry.

However, this sense of belonging is often exploited—nowhere more clearly than at Stonehenge. The annual gatherings of modern-day Druids and spiritual seekers are encouraged by the establishment as tourist attractions, yet these gatherings are deeply disconnected from the true archaeological purpose of the site. The monument was not designed for such ceremonies or seasonal celebrations, and no evidence links it to Druidic tradition.

These festivals have more in common with a social outlet than a historical observance. For many participants, the appeal lies not in understanding prehistory but in escaping modern life and joining a like-minded tribe. The result is a spectacle prioritising profit, publicity, and pseudo-ritual over evidence-based research. In reality, such gatherings can obscure the proper function of these sites, substituting emotional need and fantasy for genuine inquiry. What is often billed as a cultural celebration is, in many cases, a psychological refuge for those struggling to find identity and meaning in contemporary society.. Discoveries can affirm a group’s historical presence and legitimacy. On a personal level, visiting ancient sites can feel like a pilgrimage, affirming one’s connection to heritage or ancestry.

8. Escapism and Fantasy

Archaeology lets people momentarily step outside their daily lives. Whether through media, museum exhibits, or field digs, it offers adventure and the chance to imagine oneself as an explorer, detective, or time traveller. It’s no coincidence that popular fiction and film often blend archaeology with fantasy.

But this escapism goes much deeper. For many, archaeology is not simply a hobby—it becomes a psychological refuge from a reality perceived as dull, directionless, or personally unfulfilling. In a world where economic insecurity, social disconnection, and climate anxiety loom large, some individuals seek meaning by retreating into ancient worlds, crafting elaborate alternative narratives filled with cosmic energy, lost wisdom, or imagined ancestral superiority.

Clinical studies in psychology have linked such behaviours to maladaptive daydreaming, fantasy proneness, and identity diffusion—conditions that can intensify when reinforced through online echo chambers. In particular, a 2022 review in the Journal of Behavioral Addictions found that immersive fantasy ideation linked to historical or pseudoscientific topics spiked in individuals reporting low life satisfaction and weak social bonds. Similarly, research from the University of Münster (2020) highlighted that conspiracy-laden pseudohistory content users exhibited elevated schizotypy markers, often coupled with a deep distrust of conventional authority.

In short, the archaeological fantasy space has become a surrogate realm for many who feel alienated from the present. What appears to be curiosity is often the mind’s attempt to rewrite reality into a more meaningful—albeit fictional—form.. Whether through media, museum exhibits, or field digs, it offers adventure and the chance to imagine oneself as an explorer, detective, or time traveller. It’s no coincidence that popular fiction and film often blend archaeology with fantasy.

9. Popular Pseudoscientific Beliefs and Why They’re Absurd

In today’s media landscape, these beliefs are not only tolerated—they’re incentivised. With the rise of clickbait journalism and monetised social media platforms, words like ‘Atlantis’ and ‘Stonehenge’ are routinely dropped into headlines to maximise reach and engagement, regardless of relevance. This deliberate strategy attracts opportunists who generate income from page views and video traffic by promoting sensational nonsense over rigorous science. In effect, the absurd has become more profitable than the accurate, and archaeology suffers for it.

Ley Lines

Claim: Invisible energy paths that connect sacred sites across landscapes. Why It’s Absurd: There is no physical evidence that ley lines exist, no measurable energy associated with them, and the patterns are easily generated through selective map reading, similar to connecting dots in a constellation. It’s classic confirmation bias mixed with pareidolia.

Crop Circles

Claim: Messages from higher beings or evidence of extraterrestrial activity. Why It’s Absurd: Repeatedly and publicly demonstrated as human-made hoaxes, often by artists with planks and string. Yet belief persists due to wishful thinking, distrust of authority, and social media amplification.

Extraterrestrial Builders

Claim: Aliens helped construct ancient monuments like the pyramids or Stonehenge. Why It’s Absurd: A deeply problematic theory that underestimates ancient human ingenuity while conveniently ignoring all the logistical and cultural evidence of local effort. No material proof of alien technology has ever been found.

Sound Levitation and Anti-Gravity Transport

Claim: Prehistoric people moved stones with sound waves or anti-gravity. Why It’s Absurd: No credible physical demonstration or archaeological trace supports these theories. They’re built on fringe speculation and retrofitted modern physics buzzwords.

Extreme Archaeoastronomy

Claim: Megaliths were aligned to celestial events with millimetre precision thousands of years ago. Why It’s Absurd: It requires absurd levels of measuring accuracy without tools or mathematics, and fails the practicality test—wooden poles would be better suited than 25-ton stones.

Conclusion: A Discipline at the Crossroads

We are now witnessing the collapse of archaeology as a scientific discipline. Universities increasingly classify it not as a science, but as a branch of the humanities or social studies, folding archaeology into history departments or shutting them down entirely. Once defined by methodical excavation and empirical evidence, the field is being overrun by unverifiable narratives, mystical speculation, and emotional storytelling.

This shift poses a stark warning: if archaeology continues down this road, it risks losing its credibility entirely. The absence of scientific standards invites delusion, encourages the mentally unstable, and ultimately erodes public trust. Without rigorous methods and accountability, archaeology ceases to be a tool for understanding the past and becomes merely another platform for modern myth-making.

Another clear symptom of this decline is the widespread use of exaggerated or false claims to attract media attention and secure funding. We see it repeatedly: the moment two ditches are found, a ’causewayed enclosure’ is declared. A single bank and ditch on a hill becomes a ‘hillfort’. Any sunken feature near the sea is quickly linked to Atlantis. These inflated labels are not driven by data but by desperation to generate headlines, justify budgets, and keep research careers afloat in an increasingly sceptical and underfunded academic world. It is institutional survival masquerading as scientific discovery.

It’s time to reassert archaeology as a science—not through the lens of ritual, fantasy, and myth—but through evidence, logic, and disciplined analysis. Otherwise, we may soon find the field buried under the very fantasies it once sought to dispel.

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Author’s Biography

Robert John Langdon, a polymathic luminary, emerges as a writer, historian, and eminent specialist in LiDAR Landscape Archaeology.

His intellectual voyage has interwoven with stints as an astute scrutineer for governmental realms and grand corporate bastions, a tapestry spanning British Telecommunications, Cable and Wireless, British Gas, and the esteemed University of London.

A decade hence, Robert’s transition into retirement unfurled a chapter of insatiable curiosity. This phase saw him immerse himself in Politics, Archaeology, Philosophy, and the enigmatic realm of Quantum Mechanics. His academic odyssey traversed the venerable corridors of knowledge hubs such as the Museum of London, University College London, Birkbeck College, The City Literature Institute, and Chichester University.

In the symphony of his life, Robert is a custodian of three progeny and a pair of cherished grandchildren. His sanctuary lies ensconced in the embrace of West Wales, where he inhabits an isolated cottage, its windows framing a vista of the boundless sea – a retreat from the scrutinous gaze of the Her Majesty’s Revenue and Customs, an amiable clandestinity in the lap of nature’s embrace.

(The Stonehenge Code)

Exploring Prehistoric Britain: A Journey Through Time

My blog delves into the fascinating mysteries of prehistoric Britain, challenging conventional narratives and offering fresh perspectives based on cutting-edge research, particularly using LiDAR technology. I invite you to explore some key areas of my research. For example, the Wansdyke, often cited as a defensive structure, is re-examined in light of new evidence. I’ve presented my findings in my blog post Wansdyke: A British Frontier Wall – ‘Debunked’, and a Wansdyke LiDAR Flyover video further visualizes my conclusions.

My work also often challenges established archaeological dogma. I argue that many sites, such as Hambledon Hill, commonly identified as Iron Age hillforts are not what they seem. My posts Lidar Investigation Hambledon Hill – NOT an ‘Iron Age Fort’ and Unmasking the “Iron Age Hillfort” Myth explore these ideas in detail and offer an alternative view. Similarly, sites like Cissbury Ring and White Sheet Camp, also receive a re-evaluation based on LiDAR analysis in my posts Lidar Investigation Cissbury Ring through time and Lidar Investigation White Sheet Camp, revealing fascinating insights into their true purpose. I have also examined South Cadbury Castle, often linked to the mythical Camelot56.

My research also extends to the topic of ancient water management, including the role of canals and other linear earthworks. I have discussed the true origins of Car Dyke in multiple posts including Car Dyke – ABC News PodCast and Lidar Investigation Car Dyke – North Section, suggesting a Mesolithic origin2357. I also explore the misidentification of Roman aqueducts, as seen in my posts on the Great Chesters (Roman) Aqueduct. My research has also been greatly informed by my post-glacial flooding hypothesis which has helped to inform the landscape transformations over time. I have discussed this hypothesis in several posts including AI now supports my Post-Glacial Flooding Hypothesis and Exploring Britain’s Flooded Past: A Personal Journey

Finally, my blog also investigates prehistoric burial practices, as seen in Prehistoric Burial Practices of Britain and explores the mystery of Pillow Mounds, often mistaken for medieval rabbit warrens, but with a potential link to Bronze Age cremation in my posts: Pillow Mounds: A Bronze Age Legacy of Cremation? and The Mystery of Pillow Mounds: Are They Really Medieval Rabbit Warrens?. My research also includes the astronomical insights of ancient sites, for example, in Rediscovering the Winter Solstice: The Original Winter Festival. I also review new information about the construction of Stonehenge in The Stonehenge Enigma.