The paper ponders the object of archaeology, called here ‘the archaeological’. It argues that the existence of such an object is a necessary premise of the field and that ultimately it is on this object that the validity of all claims and arguments must rest. The paper suggests that the archaeological be conceived as a cultural phenomenon that consists in being disengaged from the social, an understanding that positions archaeology as a counterpart to the social sciences and the humanities, rather than a member in the same milieu. The first part of the paper focuses on the position of the archaeological with reference to the concepts of ‘Nature’ and ‘Culture’, which eventually leads us to a confrontation between archaeological statics and the dynamics of the world. Efforts to justify and understand archaeological statics consequently lead to the recognition of a constitutive distinction between buried and non-buried conditions, upon which the differentiation of the archaeological from the social is established.

‘Outlaw’ is not a common category of archaeological thought but it is perhaps more useful than meets the eye. ‘Outlaws’ are typically viewed as contingent on legal and capitalist systems; they are, I suggest, also material, affective phenomena that draw our attention to how transgression, dissent and disorder are conceived through archaeological thinking. Here, I outline some ways in which ‘outlaw’ figures are ‘good to think with’, particularly for historical and colonial contexts but also for broader, more global frontier situations. Through three sketches of archetypal ‘outlaws’ in southern Africa's recent past, I consider where these disruptive figures draw attention to how mobility, violence, rebellion and state imagination (and the limits thereof) have been imagined through material misbehaviours.

It is proposed that assemblage theory offers the possibility of exploring archaeological evidence in innovative ways, in order to write alternative narratives of urban development. By combining historical and archaeological scholarship with work in contemporary urban geography, it is proposed that the concept of urban decline in the later Middle Ages is problematic and a more fruitful alternative approach would be to focus on the transformation of urban assemblages. These ideas are explored by drawing upon archaeological evidence from Southampton, UK.

Assaf Nativ has written a bold and challenging paper and one which prompts a great deal of reflection. Although highly theoretical, it is also a paper that engages quite directly with the concerns of our discipline and is a good example of what one might dub philosophical (or meta-)archaeology rather than philosophy applied to archaeology. Moreover, Nativ has a very clear style of exposition that gives the reader a great deal to sink his or her teeth into. Which is precisely what I want to do now. And if what follows seems excessively critical or negative, I hope it will also be taken as a sign of my respect for his taking on a topic fraught with difficulties and a conviction that my commentary should try and match up to his own carefully argued text.

Assaf Nativ argues that it is time to deepen and broaden our understanding of the archaeological object, and to make it more explicit. I find the general argument of the paper compelling. Following on from the insights contained therein, it seems to me that there are three principal aspects of the archaeological object that urgently need to be reappraised: (1) temporal range, (2) spatial scale and (3) ecological effectivity.

In recent years, ethnoarchaeology and the use of ethnographic analogy have come under increasing criticism. Analogy seems necessary because, as post-industrial academics, archaeologists worry that they do not possess the knowledge necessary to interpret archaeological materials directly and thus must consult with coeval ‘premodern’ peoples to develop interpretive baselines. In this paper, we draw attention to a form of scholarly enquiry – 19th-century Bible customs books – that faced a similar challenge and used methodologies that parallel archaeology's use of ethnoarchaeological data. These were books written by missionaries who lived in Palestine for extended periods of time and studied Palestinian life to make sense of obscure elements of the biblical text, believing that life there had remained fundamentally unchanged for the past three thousand years. Using the Bible customs books as a kind of ‘cautionary tale’ typical of ethnoarchaeology, we argue that a consideration of this literature brings into focus some of the challenges faced by archaeologists’ use of analogy. Specifically, Bible customs books expose significant issues in how relations are conceptualized between archaeologists, others and ancients, and show how a strict empirical focus in ethnographic research can insulate key assumptions from critical scrutiny.

Þóra Pétursdóttir raises the point that archaeology is limited regarding what it can achieve, including the challenges posed by the Anthropocene, by a series of theoretical assumptions. She challenges the ‘traditional’ archaeological ‘key tropes’ in matters of this new epoch, namely the concepts of culture history, deep time/distant pasts, and the nature–culture divide. Instead, she proposes a number of new guiding points to orient archaeological inquiries, framed as part of the object-oriented ontological (OOO) philosophies. In reply, I claim that the use of OOO theories is rather unhelpful for addressing the topic of the Anthropocene, given that they lead to important ethical and political consequences: a fetishization of things, an abandoning of responsibility and an alienation of humans. They are also based on the confusion that analytical distinctions are in some way the ones responsible for the existence of inequalities, ecological destruction, racism or discrimination. Paradoxically, precisely through their annihilation, there is no room left for acknowledging the alterity of the past.

Archaeology turns round its objects as much as it turns them out. This is partially an artefact of its reflection, which is not always linear; it is sometimes cyclic. The cyclic is not a perfect circle. Our objects open themselves in new ways to archaeological engagement, but this new relevance surfaces through creative inspiration triangulated off previous orientations. In revolving around our objects, inevitably we return to a familiar place, even though it is where we have never been (González-Ruibal 2014). The linear orientation, by contrast, is progressive. It fashions its every step anew. Thus its movement is supersessive – it pushes forward by violently casting overboard what is considered to be of less value (often on misconstrued grounds) and assuming its position. Whereas the former oscillates with various degrees of awareness, the latter strikes out with inevitable levels of amnesia. To attain a genuinely novel position one must struggle against forgetting former orientations, for to eliminate is to run the risk of repetition – blind to whether or not one ever truly invents – and even redundancy – with multiple copies the impact of our work is diminished. Still, if true improvement constitutes progress, then archaeology, when properly executed, moves in spirals, and our objects move with us.

Assaf Nativ has written an interesting and, I think, important paper. It raises critical issues around the ontological status of ‘the archaeological’ and indeed about the purpose and aims of archaeology as a discipline. These are clearly topics that require consideration and critical analysis. His arguments are provocative, in the best sense, in that they will lead us to reflect on some of the basic foundations of what we believe archaeology to be. Such consideration is certainly necessary to disciplinary health. That said, and after some hefty reflection of my own, I have concluded that I disagree with much of the paper's argument. In the space afforded to me I aim to set out why.

In her article ‘A taphonomy of a dark Anthropocene’, Alexandra Ion responds to and criticizes my discussion around the topic of archaeology and the Anthropocene recently published in this journal. She takes issue with most of my central arguments and especially with my leaning towards object-oriented ontology, speculative realism and the like, describing my perspective as one that is literally dark and depressing and which may lead nowhere but to a dead end. While I make it clear that I will neither answer for nor shield myself behind other peoples’ articulations of OOO, I will in what follows react to Ion's rather harsh critique and use the opportunity to sharpen my arguments further by focusing on three central themes: first, OOO and the archaeological object; second, darkness, dead ends and knowledge of things; and third, ethics, politics and responsibility.

In the above mentioned article (Hofmann and Stockhammer 2017) there was an asterisk proceeding ‘Kerstin P. Hofmann’, which has now been moved to proceed ‘Philipp W. Stockhammer’ to indicate that both authors are corresponding authors for this article.

Unfortunately, I am unable in the limited available space to do justice to the perceptive and thoughtful critiques offered by the four commentators. There is too much ground to cover and there are too many venues to negotiate. While I wish to defend my position, I also wish to use this opportunity to keep this discussion going. It would be unfortunate if the exchange of views presented here led each position towards entrenchment and mutual exclusion. Thus, instead of providing a counterreaction to the objections raised, I will try to use these objections as leverage to pry deeper into the matters at stake. I do so with the hope that this will contribute to further discussion on matters that we all hold dear.

This essay differentiates between various branches of post-human scholarship as they relate to issues of colonial inequality, social action and politics. Through their critique of human exceptionalism, through their recognition of the vibrancy of matter, and in their potential connections with politically engaged scholarship, certain lines of post-humanist thought stand to make important contributions to archaeologies of long-term and colonial Indigenous history. I argue that these qualities offer nuanced perspectives on the plural colonial past and present of New England (north-eastern North America). I explore the prospects for a selectively post-human and pragmatic archaeology in connection with recent debates over stone landscapes. This approach makes room for various stakeholder narratives, finding possible common ground in a shared human condition between stakeholders, i.e. subject to ‘earth flows and lively stone’.

Social institutions such as the water-powered grain mills of Ottoman Cyprus are elaborately interconnected with a wide range of human and non-human players, from millers and villagers to water, gradient, stone and climate. When participants recognize their mutual dependencies and operate according to social and environmental limits, then following Ivan Illich we can call these watermills convivial tools. The European-owned sugar plantations, mills and refineries of medieval Cyprus, by contrast, divided and alienated their workforce, and their demands for water, labour, soil and fuel surpassed what their landscape and society could provide. They are, then, unconvivial tools. Conviviality is always precarious: it needs continual negotiation, conflict and compromise, as well as an acceptance of the mutual dependence of all participants, non-human and human. This politics of conviviality is particularly urgent in times of social and ecological crisis.

In this reaction article I reflect on criticism raised by Torill Christine Lindstrøm and Artur Ribeiro in recent issues of this journal. I attempt to identify the source of our disagreement, and focus on three particular aspects of their previous reactions: (1) their framing of agency in Alfred Gell and symmetrical archaeology, (2) their basis for declaring symmetrical archaeology redundant and (3) their identification of the terminology of symmetrical archaeology as inflated and crammed with ‘buzzwords’ and ‘neologisms’.