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Industrial Archaeology: Its Place Within the Academic

Discipline, the Public Realm and the Heritage Industry

Article  in  Industrial Archaeology Review · November 2008

DOI: 10.1179/174581908X347292

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 INDUSTRIAL ARCHAEOLOGY REVIEW, XXX: 2, 2008

Industrial Archaeology: Its Place Within the

Academic Discipline, the Public Realm and the
Heritage Industry
H O

This paper presents a review of industrial archaeology literature and offers some initial thoughts on
how this literature relates to my research on public perception and experience of Cornish mining
landscapes. A brief summary of the development of industrial archaeology is given, which reflects
on its amateur origins, its ‘identity crisis’ and its slow integration into university archaeology
departments. The reasons for the transformation of industrial sites into industrial heritage is then
examined and temporal models of change presented which relate to both an acceleration of the
Published by Maney Publishing (c) Association for Industrial Archaeology

past into the commodity heritage as well as an affective progression from disdain to acceptance.
The public’s attitude to industrial archaeology is then discussed — which raises complex questions
over the nature of such sites including, the importance of time and aesthetics as well as the
phenomenological nature of perception and experience.

I How does such transformation relate to

In 2005 Marilyn Palmer noted that industrial
archaeology had two faces — one side is
concerned with the ‘interpretation of the sur-
viving material evidence in order to under-
stand past human activity’ and the other side
is a preservation movement largely focused
on the recording and description of individual
buildings. She went on to note that: ‘in the
more professional and institutionalised cli-
mate of the last two decades, the distinction
between the two meanings has become crucial
to the acceptance of industrial archaeology as
an academic discipline.’1 The divergent split
between social archaeology (which focuses
on industrial remains) and industrial archae-
ology or synonymously industrial heritage
has allowed Casella2 recently to reflect on
its subdisciplinary identity crisis. Industrial
archaeology is still having trouble with aca-
demic isolation and with defining its scope
and aims. Nevell in the meantime finds the
term simply ‘bewildering’.3
In the meantime industrial heritage is ‘one
of the most vibrant and progressive areas
of research and practice’ reflecting a growing
realisation of ‘the immense importance of
Britain’s role as the first industrial nation’.4
In turn the industrial environment is being
transformed; a number of sites have been
designated as World Heritage including
Blaenavon in Wales and the Cornwall and
West Devon Mining Landscapes; many other
sites have been interpreted and presented to
the public. Furthermore industrial ruins are
being cleaned up and made to look attractive
for the increasing number of visitors. Concern
over the protection and management of
industrial heritage has lead to a range of
specialist publications.5
© The Association for Industrial Archaeology 2008
changes in the public consciousness as well
as the ways in which the public interact with
industrial remains? The literature suggests
that post-war Britain held a deep antipathy
for its abandoned industrial sites, with the
dumping of rubbish typifying an attitude of
neglect and disdain.6 However, I will argue
that this ‘stage of abandonment’ is a transi-
tory period, through which the public come
to terms with their ‘disturbing’ past and
its connotations of industrial decline.7 The
post-abandonment phase is characterised
by acceptance and forgetfulness, during
which ‘triumphal’ national narratives can be
written.8 Thereby symbols of social depriva-
tion and economic decline become over time
symbols of regional and national pride.9
Industrial remains, therefore, lie on the
cusp of history; they are within our lifetime
becoming archaeology and heritage. Within
the developing social archaeologies of indus-
try, methods have been recently developed
which seek, in Collingwood’s terms, to see the
‘inner side of the event’ — to get at purpose
and thought.10 This has led to the recording of
industrial processes as industries are closing
down or changing their working practices.11 I
will argue that this anthropological approach
can also be applied in order to question the
nature of the relationship between the public
and industrial remains.
D, O   E
D  I A
[A] field of study concerned with investigating,
surveying, recording and in some cases,
with preserving industrial monuments. It aims,
moreover, at assessing the significance of
these monuments in the context of social and
technological history.12
DOI: 10.1179/174581908X347292
 84 O: I A
The origins and development of British
industrial archaeology have been recently and
thoroughly critiqued.13 In the 19th century
and early 20th century the subject concerned
only a few individuals, mostly amateur his-
torians. It is thought that the first use of
the term appeared in 1896 in an article entitled
‘Archaeologia Industrial Portuguesa os
Moinhos’, by Da Sousa Viterbo in the
Portuguese journal O Archeologo Portugues.
Amateur historian, Michael Rix, then popu-
larised the term within English-speaking
circles within his 1955 article ‘Industrial
Archaeology’.14 Very little appears to have
happened between these two dates.
Rix’s article was enormously influential.
He insisted that the preservation of the indus-
Published by Maney Publishing (c) Association for Industrial Archaeology
trial past was urgent and necessary, stating
that: ‘Within living memory the motor car,
radio and aeroplane have been invented. Yet
the “Tin Lizzy”, the crystal set and the biplane
are already so out of date as to be museum
exhibits.’15 This inspired the Council for
British Archaeology (CBA) to set up a
research committee on industrial archaeolo-
gy. Importantly his message also provided
representation for the disparate but growing
number of amateur groups who were already
stimulated by a ‘sense of urgency’ given post-
war redevelopment. The key moment was the
demolition of the Doric portico at Euston
Station in 1962 — which galvanised public
opinion in opposition to its destruction.16
Samuel notes the contribution of these
‘enthusiastic amateurs’.
It was not the economic historian but the steam
fanatics — and after them the industrial archae-
ologists — who resuscitated the crumbling walls
and rusting ironwork of eighteenth century
furnaces and kilns; who kept alive, or revivified
a sense of wonder at the miracles of invention
which made mid-Victorian Britain the
‘workshop of the world’ . . .17
However, during the early days of industrial
archaeology during the 1950s to 1970s this
focus on the industrial remains of Victorian
Britain was not automatically accepted — and
considerable debate focused on determining
whether a period-defined or production-
defined approach would dominate.18 Raist-
rick notably argued in 1972 that the term
could equally be applied to Neolithic flint
mines and he argued that with a broader
temporal approach ‘it becomes much easier to
see industrial archaeology as the investigation
of the whole history of industry through the
ages’.19 According to Nevell it was the decline
in manufacturing industries during the 1980s
and 1990s which led to an acceptance that
industrial archaeology deals with the period
from c. AD 1750 commonly known as The
Industrial Revolution.20 Hence in this paper,
I restrict myself to this generally accepted
usage of the term.
Following the demolition of the Euston
Arch, the Industrial Monuments Survey was
established in 1963. Initially it was run jointly
by the CBA and the Ministry of Public Build-
ings and Works before passing to the care
of the University of Bath in 1965 to become
the National Record of Industrial Monu-
ments. It then transferred to the National
Monuments Record in the 1990s.21 A national
association in the form of the Association of
Industrial Archaeology was established in
1973 and a series of annual conferences were
held at the University of Bath between 1966
and 1970. In 1976 a specialist publication
was launched in the form of the Industrial
Archaeology Review.22
Therefore the 1960s and 1970s witnessed
growing public awareness of industrial
archaeology, a unified record, a cohesive
movement for documenting and recording
industrial remains and an annual publica-
tion.23 During this period, however, industrial
archaeology remained ‘on the periphery of
the academic world’.24
I A W
U D
Whilst Labadi states that the subject has ‘in
Europe and North America, grown to become
a sub-discipline of archaeology’, the majority
of other reviews tend to concur with Crans-
tone’s description of a rocky and ‘painfully
slow’ integration into the academic world.25
The developing significance of industrial
archaeology as described above was not read-
ily translated into academic research during
the 1970s and 1980s. The reasons for this
are clear. It was seen by many academics as
a preservation activity undertaken by ‘hob-
byists’ and has been dismissed as a ‘fun
subject’.26 Whilst the focus of interest was
concerned with description and technological
function it appeared to happily exist without
any apparent theoretical or methodological
perspective.27
Furthermore industrial archaeology’s
temporal range, dealing as it does with the
remains of the recent past, has also been cited
as a reason for lack of academic interest.
When compared to Prehistory, through which
out of necessity much archaeological theory
had been formed, it hardly seemed ‘real’
archaeology. In 1980 Buchanan severely cri-
tiqued the suggestion that only excavation
methods should be included in its scope
but nevertheless preferred to define the sub-
ject as a sub-branch of historical studies and
advocated that industrial archaeology should
be re-conceptualised as a part of ‘physical
history’.28 He perhaps recognised the prob-
lematic nature of the study of the industrial
period in relation to the broader discipline.

In the 1980s industrial archaeology in
Britain diverged from that taken in North
America. The latter developed a strong
tradition in historical archaeology, character-
ised by a structuralist approach to the
study of 18th- and 19th-century society and
exemplified by the key work of James Deetz,
Mark Leone and Charles Orser.29 Initially
industrial archaeologists in Britain continued
a thematic approach to the study of monu-
ments before developing a more techno-
centric approach in the early 1990s which
led to problems with the synthesis of data.
Towards the end of the 1990s a split occurred
in British industrial archaeology, with con-
tinuing monument-focused work on one side
and socio-economic research on the other
Published by Maney Publishing (c) Association for Industrial Archaeology
with the latter concerned with questions of
consumption and production including issues
of exchange, power, identity and social rela-
tionships.30 By the end of the 1990s a growing
unease had set in, characterised by a feeling of
disconnection between the conservation-led
approach and wider academic thinking.
The influence of North American historical
archaeologies has been reviewed by a number
of commentators.31
During the 1990s industrial archaeology
did, however, began to integrate very slowly
into academic departments.32 However, his-
torical archaeology also had a ‘rather dubious
status’ in Britain. As Tarlow and West note,
its role was ‘supplementary or illustrative
at best, and at worst entirely irrelevant’.33
Inevitably questions have been raised over
nomenclature, the range and relative position
of industrial archaeology to post-medieval
and historical archaeology.34 Post-medieval
archaeology has largely concerned itself with
the 16th and 17th centuries, industrial archae-
ology with the 18th and 19th, whilst the more
recent 20th-century archaeology (typified
largely by military archaeology) has used
neither term.35 Others have argued that indus-
trial archaeology is an obsolete concept and
should instead be reframed within a holistic
archaeology of the later 2nd millennium.
However, within British research the terms
industrial archaeology or synonymously
industrial heritage have largely been retained;
for example the key British text Industrial
Archaeology: Principles and Practice36 is
firmly focused on pursuing the development
of social theories. This suggests that the term
is not necessarily going to go away in the near
future.
In university departments industrial
archaeology still has only a fairly limited
presence. Units on offer at universities tend to
concentrate on either the recording of stand-
ing buildings, therefore arguably continuing
a ‘descriptive’ monument-focused tradition
or the management of sites — therefore
INDUSTRIAL ARCHAEOLOGY REVIEW, XXX: 2, 2008 85
suggesting that the subject is mainly seen as
practice based rather than theoretical.37
I H   P
It is within the heritage industry that indus-
trial remains have become increasingly sig-
nificant and are now of considerable concern
to the UK’s statutory bodies — English Heri-
tage, Cadw (Welsh for ‘Keep’) and Historic
Scotland. An increasing number of specialist
publications link industrial heritage to regen-
erative schemes, particularly within urban
areas. Industrial heritage is also taking on
global significance. The UK government’s
first list of tentative World Heritage Sites
in 1986 only contained one industrial site
— Ironbridge Gorge Museum — compared
to the second list of sites in 1999 which
contained 10 industrial sites, out of the total
complement of 25. These include the Blae-
navon Industrial Landscape in Wales, the
Forth Bridge in Scotland and the Cornwall
and West Devon Mining Landscapes
(Figure 1).38
During the second half of the 20th century
the cultural meaning of industrial structures
began to change. A transformation occurred
which turned industrial remains from derelict
functional structures to icons of an innovative
industrial past.39 Palmer and Neaverson sug-
gest that such transformations are a matter of
changing public perception, in terms of the
‘acceptability of elements of past culture in
the contemporary landscape’.40
In the mid-20th century they [industrial
monuments] were regarded as relics of sweated
labour and unacceptable working practice,
consequently being swept away in urban devel-
opment or land clearance schemes. Only in the
last quarter of the twentieth century has the
international significance of Britain’s industrial
heritage been understood and its value as a
cultural resource appreciated.41
Van Der Hoorn asks: ‘How can a long
undesired piece of architecture all of a sudden
become an attractive souvenir for tourists,
talisman, a valuable object?’ She also ques-
tions the extent to which the public ‘act’ as
passive witnesses or active protagonists in the
transformation of their built environment
and the creation of new national narratives.42
The public outcry over the demolition of the
Euston Arch, although failing to achieve its
aim, signifies nonetheless that public opinion
can be collectively manifested, and can poten-
tially influence local and national policy. With
the development of social archaeologies of
industry it is therefore also necessary to
examine the contemporary social dimension
of industrial sites and landscapes and to
reflect on the process of transformation of
place as it is happening.
 86 O: I A
Published by Maney Publishing (c) Association for Industrial Archaeology

Figure 1.
The Engine Houses of Crowns Mine, Botallack. Possibly one of the most photographed views in Cornwall. Designated World Heritage
in 2006 as part of the West Devon and Cornwall Mining Landscape.

Some industrial archaeologists have
already been considering what Collingwood
terms the ‘inner side of the event’. This entails
the recording of existing industries at work,
particularly those which are about to undergo
change, for example, a photographic survey
was conducted of a nuclear power station in
Ayrshire, prior to decommissioning. This
active ‘process recording’ developed by Brian
Malaws and modified by Anna Badcock gives
industrial archaeology a ‘new level of social
relevance’.43
Indeed such an approach, informed by
social or cultural anthropology could help in
developing methods which could also look
inside the ‘heritage event’ developing ques-
tions of process and transformation, public
Published by Maney Publishing (c) Association for Industrial Archaeology
perception and interaction which can be
examined and potentially answered. As Adam
Sharpe commented following an artists’
initiative at South Wheal Frances Mine, near
Camborne, Cornwall:
We also recognise that it is just as important to
ask ‘How did this site function?’, ‘How did it
change?’, ‘What did it mean to the people who
worked here?’, and ‘What has it meant to the
people nearby since it went out of use?’ Perhaps
most importantly we need to ask, ‘How do I
relate to it?’ and ‘How might others interact
with it?’.44
As industrial archaeology within the public
realm is quite simply everywhere, you could
argue that there must be unlimited opportuni-
ties for public involvement and engagement.
However, in The Familiar Past?: Archaeolo-
gies of Later Historical Britain (1999) Tarlow
and West question whether the remains of the
recent past are too familiar. Symonds likewise
asks whether ‘industrial remains are simply
not old enough to be considered truly archae-
ological by most people’. In his opinion they
may belong to a period ‘after history, i.e.,
belonging to a slightly earlier version of us,
just beyond living memory’. Instead, he
argues, ‘the popular imagination’ is drawn to
the archaeology of ancient civilisations.45
Therefore, industrial archaeology may not be
real archaeology or the chosen past. Partly to
paraphrase the title of Lowenthal’s 1985 pub-
lication, perhaps the past has to be a foreign
(different and unfamiliar) country. Indeed,
Tarlow and West argue that the ‘archaeology
of historic periods is often about de-
familiarising what we think is the known
past’, thereby re-valorising the (industrial)
product. This would then suggest that the
public view is likely to be one of indifference
or antipathy (Figure 2).
Others have argued that industrial remains
are deeply symbolic, but this symbolism is
highly negative. It is representative of a dis-
turbing past; one which is a reminder of eco-
nomic and social decline and poor working
INDUSTRIAL ARCHAEOLOGY REVIEW, XXX: 2, 2008 87
conditions.46 In a case study from the north-
west of Britain, Cooper suggests that the
region’s industrial heritage is seen as ‘back-
ward looking, as a drag on regeneration
and economic development, and symbolic of
decline and failure’.47 If this is true, industrial
remains belong to a past that needs to be
forgotten.
Furthermore, derelict sites can become
synonymous in the public’s minds with
‘danger, delinquency, ugliness and disorder’.
Grunenberg suggests that they are a locus
horribilis within which a range of deviant acts
can take place by ‘undesirable’ people. For
many, dereliction is taken as a sign for waste,
signifying an anti-social present and perhaps
more importantly an uncertain future. Yet
Edensor points out that those who live
amongst industrial remains already have a
relationship to them, exemplified through
their use as ‘free car parks and as places
to dump rubbish’, these form part of the
habitual and daily practices through which
people engage with ruined sites, in ways
which are however ‘unreflexively performed’
(Figure 3).48
Adam Sharpe describes the history of
South Wheal Frances Mine, near Camborne,
in Cornwall. Its closure in 1918 was ‘swift and
brutal’ and following its partial demolition
local pride quickly turned to disdain. In the
20th century the site was overgrown, squalid
and the haunt of fly tippers. In the early 21st
century, however:
it has become a physical touchstone of a par-
ticular cultural heritage, a marker of Cornish
identity, its interpretation panels speak of
‘cathedrals of industry’: it has become an icon
to be visited and learned about, a must-see site
within the recently inscribed Cornish mining
WHS.49
Several commentators refer to what is com-
monly seen as a speeding up of time in western
society, which means that the recent past now
attracts attention along with pre-industrial
sites. Edensor also refers to the ‘commodifica-
tion of that which has only just passed into
history’:
This nostalgia for that which has just happened
seems to refer back to what was earlier iden-
tified as an accelerated ‘archaeology’ in which
the recent past becomes ancient history in the
endless production of the new.50
Edensor argues that there is a purposive need
within society to reinvest space with (positive)
meaning, for: ‘If spaces are conceived as
disturbingly non-functional, they must be
replaced and filled in — turned into abstract
space — to remove these signs of unproduc-
tive and unfunctional blankness.’51 Van Der
Hoorn’s research on the former national-
socialist town of Prora, on the island of
Rűgenin, and on the Berlin Wall is interesting
 88 O: I A
Published by Maney Publishing (c) Association for Industrial Archaeology

Figure 2.
20th-century remains
at Botallack. The base
of the Californian
stamps with the
headframe of Allen’s
Shaft in the
background. Are these
old enough to be
considered
archaeology?

in terms of what she concludes is a public need
to exorcise material remains. This exorcism is
enacted through the plundering, recycling,
demolition and memorialisation of fragments
of ‘national history’ often through the manu-
facture of souvenirs.52 Trinder presents a tem-
poral progressive model of attitudinal change
which transforms public opinion and policy
from revulsion (as exemplified above), to mild
amusement at the passing of the familiar, to
acceptance. He suggests that the writings of
W.H. Hoskins are an anomaly within this
transition and questions the extent of Roman-
ticisms power over the popular imagination.53
Buchanan likewise comments that it was
‘necessary for the processes of industrialisa-
tion to mature and to develop through several
stages, making obsolete the artefacts of earlier
phases, before they could generate sufficient
interest to encourage efforts to preserve them’
(Figure 4).54
Such models suggest that ‘an interval of
neglect’ is a stage within a process of trans-
formation of environment and culture which
provides ‘the incentive for restoration, and
for a return to origins’.55 Here heritage
becomes a vehicle for regional and national
identities as Symonds comments; 21st-century

Published by Maney Publishing (c) Association for Industrial Archaeology
regenerative schemes provide ‘reinforcement
to communities in the form of narratives that
highlight the skill and resilience of former
populations’.56
It is necessary to question the extent to
which changing aesthetic taste influences both
perception and intervention within this pro-
cess. Joseph makes a correlation between aes-
thetics and deviant behaviour in the following
statement — ‘neglected land not only looks
depressing’. It also encourages ‘fly tipping,
graffiti and fly posting, all of which “uglify”
the environment’.57 Recognition and status is
often linked to aesthetics and where heritage
values are concerned or regeneration initia-
tives are taking place there is often a desire
to tidy up or ‘prettify’ sites.58 As Alfrey and
Putnam put it, ‘conservation conforms to
certain paradigms with its concomitant ideas
about order, tidiness and the appearance of
things’.59 This may also reflect more instru-
mental values, for example, Palmer notes
the concern from home owners to tidy up
or dispose of industrial eyesores.60 With
mining landscapes the tidying up of mine
waste and the capping of mine shafts has been
the matter of some debate.61 Indeed aesthetic
values compete with the desire to preserve
INDUSTRIAL ARCHAEOLOGY REVIEW, XXX: 2, 2008 89
the historic value of the archaeological con- Figure 3.
text and issues of public health and safety Danger and
(Figure 5). delinquency or
From an archaeological position such an performance and
emphasis on singular sites is problematic as engagement?
The ‘decorated’
it affects the broader understanding and per-
20th-century dressing
ception of complex landscapes.62 An indus- floors at Wheal Kitty,
trial landscape can ‘represent a single phase of St Agnes.
industrial development or several hundred
years of activity’. Perhaps ironically, the con-
servation-led ethic of industrial archaeology
may also have created a tendency to iconicise
sites through its emphasis on individual
monuments.63 The discipline does appear to
be moving towards a position whereby whole
complexes of buildings, monuments and land-
scapes are treated holistically, for example,
through a characterisation methodology.64
However, the perception of industrial land-
scapes by the public may reflect what I would
call a ‘Stonehenge effect’; with expectation
focused on the monument, the rich prehistoric
landscape in the meantime becomes nothing
more than transitional space. According
to Cooper there also remains a widespread
public perception of heritage as individual
monuments, in his words ‘probably timber
framed buildings’.65 Although the public
 90 O: I A
Published by Maney Publishing (c) Association for Industrial Archaeology
Figure 4.
Dressing floors
at Botallack.
Non-functional space,
replaced and filled in
with graffiti.
visiting Cornwall’s World Heritage mining
landscapes will probably not be looking for
timber-framed buildings, their perception
within the landscape may certainly orient
itself towards iconic aesthetically-pleasing
structures. The Cornish engine house is a
prime example; silhouetted against the skyline
on countless postcards and more recently
as the logo of the World Heritage Site
(Figure 6).
The foregoing discussion suggests that
industrial ruins are problematic public spaces
due to the complex range of issues and
emotions they can invoke. Edensor, a Senior
Lecturer in Environmental and Geographical
Sciences at Manchester Metropolitan Univer-
sity, counters any charge that industrial ruins
are a ‘waste’ of space in his 2005 publication
Industrial Ruins: Space, Aesthetics and Mate-
riality. Through a discussion of the urban
landscape of central and northern England
and central Scotland he seeks to celebrate
industrial ruins as places of play, freedom
(from boundaries, transgression and the
ability to loosen the body in space) and the
carnivalesque.

Published by Maney Publishing (c) Association for Industrial Archaeology
Since the original uses of ruined buildings
has passed, there are limitless possibilities for
encounters with the weird . . . unencumbered by
the assumptions which weigh heavily on highly
encoded, regulated space. Bereft of these
codings of the normative — the arrangement of
things in place, the performance of regulated
actions, the display of goods lined up as com-
modities or for show — ruined space is ripe with
transgressive and transcendent possibilities.66
Edensor’s discourse contradicts the equation
between dereliction and anti-social behaviour
seeking instead to valorise ruined sites as
INDUSTRIAL ARCHAEOLOGY REVIEW, XXX: 2, 2008 91
Figure 5.
Mine dumps above the
beach at Trevaunance
Cove, St Agnes.
‘alternative play spaces for children and
adults’. He comments on the differential
attitude to ruined structures (industrial as
opposed to non-industrial) whereby castles,
follies or ‘rural tumbledown cottages’, are
the subject of romantic themes, particularly
within the arts.67 Quoting Janowitz, this
romantic discourse merges over time the
natural with the cultural, creating a sense that
state identity is in turn immemorial.68 Whilst
prehistoric ruins have been given over to
nature and relate in a Wordsworthian sense
to landscape, national identity and romance,
 92 O: I A
Published by Maney Publishing (c) Association for Industrial Archaeology

Figure 6.
Wheal Coates, St
Agnes. A monument
and icon which
provides a singular
place within transitory
space.

industrial ruins are still very much part of
human culture, but analogously play the same
role as the Victorian haunted house — as ‘a
sort of modern Gothic’. For ruins elucidate
the close relationship between romance and
horror, they ‘possess the attraction of decay
and death, and to enter into them is to venture
into darkness and the possibilities of con-
fronting that which is repressed’. Here, ruins
create a sense of melancholia and are a
reminder of cycle of life and death; sentiments
which parallel the Dutch biologist and writer
Midas Dekkers assertion that human society
has an innate fascination with decay, entropy
and death.69
This visceral, sensual and psychological
approach to industrial remains means that
Edensor’s writing is phenomenological in
nature; in that it speaks of perception and
experience, of wanting ‘to capture something
of the sensual immanence of the experience of
travelling through a ruin’. His discussion is
in part anecdotal in nature, drawing on, for
example, childhood memories. Any political
agenda in terms of such spaces provoking an
anti-establishment sentiment or action is not

clear, although his concept of industrial play
as ‘anti-tourism’ is clearly different from
mainstream heritage literature. There is also
no apparent attempt to accept, even in part,
the contrary view that such sites are in fact
economic, social or cultural waste.
Such criticisms aside, the themes that
emerge are of industrial ruins as places where
‘forms of alternate public life may occur’ —
leisure, adventure, acquisition, shelter and
creativity as well as the pursuit of illicit activi-
ties.70 These themes however operate largely
within a context in which individuals have
freedom of access to sites; a situation which is
likely to change as more sites are designated
heritage. Although it is difficult to place the
dumping of rubbish within Edensor’s celebra-
Published by Maney Publishing (c) Association for Industrial Archaeology
tory rhetoric, importantly he highlights the
social use and meaning of sites during the
period of abandonment. These may not be
empty places which are meaningless. People
may value them for their historical or
aesthetic value as well as for their possibilities
of play. They may also value them as places to
park their car or to take their dogs for a
walk.
S  C
In summary, industrial archaeology has many
faces and its breadth of application across
conservation, social archaeology and heritage
management has concomitantly prevented it
from being taken seriously as an academic
pursuit. It has had perhaps, an undeservedly
negative and outdated image, as an amateur
pursuit and atheoretical and unmethodologi-
cal in its approach and aims — such a view
today would, I believe, belie a lack of under-
standing as to its varied approaches. It is
my hope, that at the very least, this paper
demonstrates its multi-disciplinary nature,
its possibilities and hence its strengths.
The development of a social archaeology of
industry has provided a fresh approach which
attempts to answer much of the criticism
aimed at the subject, yet it is perhaps
dependent on the North American model
and therefore the transplantation of historical
archaeology within British universities.
Much of the foregoing discussion concerns
the idea of singularity and identity — the
identity of the discipline or practice, the iden-
tification of the subject matter, and the ways
in which industrial remains become symbolic
of changing national attitudes towards the
past and the environment. The importance of
the suffix is clear, -heritage, -ruins or -archae-
ology change the meaning yet can act syn-
onymously. Industrial archaeology appears
simultaneously to be highly negative, playful,
Gothic, not very old, too familiar, beautiful,
ugly, a waste of space and a handy place
to park the car. However, despite such con-
tradictory perceptions and whilst there is no
INDUSTRIAL ARCHAEOLOGY REVIEW, XXX: 2, 2008 93
singular identity, the monuments of industry
can nonetheless take on over time an iconic
singularity in the landscape. It will be interest-
ing to see whether this archaeological prob-
lem can be resolved through, for example, site
and landscape management or broad charac-
terisation studies. The Millennium Project
at Stonehenge may provide certain compara-
tive material in terms of the archaeological
desire to open out landscapes in tension
with an assumed public desire to view single
architectural features.
I have presented a number of models which
all broadly theorise the transformation of
industrial sites from reminders of economic
and social decline into icons of industry. The
post-war period in Britain typifies an attitude
of neglect and antipathy, against which ama-
teur preservation groups could react. There
is clearly a tension between aesthetics, valori-
sation and abandonment. Metaphorically,
the phase of abandonment can be viewed as a
type of burial for physical remains which are
above rather than below ground. Over time a
reactionary process coupled with a changing
attitude to ‘what counts as the past’ serves to
reinvest relics of past industry with new and
contemporary meanings. The recent appear-
ance of industrial World Heritage Sites is
indicative of a general shift in society towards
a perception that industrial remains are now
old enough to be the past, important enough
to be international heritage and attractive
enough to visit. However, from the trium-
phalism of national narrative to Edensor’s
celebratory rhetoric, I would apply a caveat,
and that is that our understanding of the
public’s perception of industrial sites in
the landscape is largely lacking in terms of
comparative research, time depth and detail.
Attitudes may be very different within con-
trasting geographical, social, cultural and
political contexts and may importantly be
determined by the concept or designation of
heritage as opposed to regular built space.
Edensor’s and Cooper’s industrial context
was an urban one, whereas my research
context is atypical in this regard, Cornish
mining remains are found within a rural and
a heavily romanticised and mythologised
landscape.
I would, however, agree with Edensor’s
sentiment that industrial ruins provide both
foreground and background to public life,
there is a relationship, though whether this is
‘alternate’ is however debateable. It is impor-
tant to question the extent to which the public
act as active agents or passive witnesses within
each stage. The case studies from the former
German Democratic Republic by Van Der
Hoorn are interesting in this regard, as they
present the public as actively doing — as
plundering, exorcising and fragmenting their
pasts. The challenge is to formulate methods
 94 O: I A
of data collection through which the public’s
perceptions of these fascinating yet problem-
atic industrial spaces can be examined. I hope
to demonstrate Collingwood’s concept of
the ‘inner side of the event’71 and a social or
cultural anthropological approach, will in
tandem, provide methods through which
these fascinating yet problematic industrial
spaces can be examined.
A
For valuable advice and resources I would
like to thank Ainsley Cocks of the World
Heritage Site Office, Cornwall County Coun-
cil. For sponsorship and accommodation
whilst on fieldwork in Cornwall the following
Published by Maney Publishing (c) Association for Industrial Archaeology
organisations and people are thanked: The
Cornwall Archaeological Society, Dr Melissa
Hardie of The Hypatia Trust, Penzance and
The Trevithick Society. Last but not least
my PhD supervisors: Dr Andrew Gardner,
Dr Sue Hamilton and Dr John Schofield,
thank you for all the advice and support.
N  R
1
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8
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9
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11
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12
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13
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14
Labadi, ref. 13, 77; Palmer and Neaverson, ref. 13,
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15
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Buchanan, ref. 12, 25.
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Casella, ref. 2, 4; Nevell, ref. 3, 31.
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23
Buchanan, ref. 12, 355.
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24
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25
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26
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York, 2005), 60.
27
Grant, E.G., ‘Industry, Landscape and Location’,
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29
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Archaeology: Using the Rules of Perspective in the
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Casella, ref. 2, 3, 7; Nevell, ref. 3, 31–2.
31
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35
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Palmer and Neaverson, ref. 13.
37
Ibid., preface, 3.
38
Cooper, ref. 6, 156; DCMS 1999.
 INDUSTRIAL ARCHAEOLOGY REVIEW, XXX: 2, 2008 95
39
Alfrey and Putnam, ref. 9, 41. Press, 1980), quoted in Dekkers, M., The Way of all
40
Palmer and Neaverson, ref. 13, 141. Flesh: A Celebration of Decay (The Harvill Press:
41
Ibid. London, 1997), 56.
42 56
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57
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and Individual Experience’, Journal of Material Trust: London, 1998), 7, as quoted in Edensor, ref. 48,
Culture, 8.2 (2003), 189. 9.
43 58
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59
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44 60
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45
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46
Cooper, ref. 6, 167; Trinder, ref. 7, 39–41. Rescuing the Historic Environment: Archaeology, the
47
Cooper, ref. 6, 158. Green Movement and Conservation Strategies for the
48
Grunenberg, C., ‘Unsolved mysteries: Gothic tales British Landscape (Warwick: Rescue, 1993), 49–50.
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from Frankenstein to the Hair-Eating Doll’, in Alfrey and Putnam, ref. 9, 13.
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Grunenberg, C. (ed.), Gothic (Boston, 1997), 195 Ibid., 182.
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quoted in Edensor, T., Industrial Ruins: Space, Palmer and Neaverson, ref. 13, 3, 25.
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Aesthetics and Materiality (Berg: Oxford 2005), 8, Cooper, ref. 6, 164, citing Fairclough, G. and S.
31. Rippon (eds), Europe’s Cultural Landscapes: Archae-
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51 65
Ibid., 8. Cooper, ref. 6, 165.
52 66
Van Der Hoorn, ref. 42, 191, 194. Edensor, ref. 48, 4.
53 67
Trinder, ref. 7, 41–5. Ibid., 10–11.
54 68
Buchanan, R.A., ‘The origins of Industrial Janowitz, A., England’s Ruins: Poetic Purpose
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69
200), 18. Edensor, ref. 48, 11–13; Dekkers, ref. 55.
55 70
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71
Topics (Amhurst: The University of Massachusetts Collingwood, ref. 10.

Hilary Orange is in the second year of her PhD at the Institute of Archaeology UCL examining the
public’s perceptions of Cornish mining landscapes. She has an MA in Public Archaeology from
UCL and prior to this lectured in archaeology within further and adult education in Cornwall for
many years. Her research interests are public archaeology, phenomenology and archaeological
landscapes and cultural heritage. Address for correspondence: h.orange@ucl.ac.uk

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