ELLIOTM abrams: architecture has long been the focus of investigation by archaeologists. The preoccupation with large architecture was not restricted to the old world, he says. Abrams argues that large architectural works may have influenced the evolution of energy.
ELLIOTM abrams: architecture has long been the focus of investigation by archaeologists. The preoccupation with large architecture was not restricted to the old world, he says. Abrams argues that large architectural works may have influenced the evolution of energy.
ELLIOTM abrams: architecture has long been the focus of investigation by archaeologists. The preoccupation with large architecture was not restricted to the old world, he says. Abrams argues that large architectural works may have influenced the evolution of energy.
Architecture and Energy: An Evolutionary Perspective
Author(s): Elliot M. Abrams
Source: Archaeological Method and Theory, Vol. 1 (1989), pp. 47-87 Published by: Springer Stable URL: http://www.jstor.org/stable/20170197 Accessed: 02/12/2009 04:32 Your use of the JSTOR archive indicates your acceptance of JSTOR's Terms and Conditions of Use, available at http://www.jstor.org/page/info/about/policies/terms.jsp. JSTOR's Terms and Conditions of Use provides, in part, that unless you have obtained prior permission, you may not download an entire issue of a journal or multiple copies of articles, and you may use content in the JSTOR archive only for your personal, non-commercial use. Please contact the publisher regarding any further use of this work. Publisher contact information may be obtained at http://www.jstor.org/action/showPublisher?publisherCode=springer. Each copy of any part of a JSTOR transmission must contain the same copyright notice that appears on the screen or printed page of such transmission. JSTOR is a not-for-profit service that helps scholars, researchers, and students discover, use, and build upon a wide range of content in a trusted digital archive. We use information technology and tools to increase productivity and facilitate new forms of scholarship. For more information about JSTOR, please contact support@jstor.org. Springer is collaborating with JSTOR to digitize, preserve and extend access to Archaeological Method and Theory. http://www.jstor.org 2 Architecture and Energy An Evolutionary Perspective ELLIOTM. ABRAMS Architecture has long been the focus of investigation by a variety of scholars including archaeologists. Owing to the conspicu ous scale and aesthetic value of relatively large architectural works, it is understandable that structures were among the first artifacts to be studied within the pre-anthropological paradigm that charac terized early archaeology. Within this classical framework, tremen dous attention was focused on such works as the Great Wall of China, the pyramids of pharaonic Egypt, and the megaliths of Neolithic and Bronze Age Europe, which served to publicize as well as romanticize the discipline of archaeology. The preoccupation with large architecture was not restricted to the Old World; many of the earliest systematic archaeological efforts in the New World reported extensively if not exclusively on architecture, as titles of such works as Squier and Davis's 1848 classic Ancient Monuments of the Missis sippi Valley connote. It is of interest to note that many of these early contributions, albeit written prior to the emergence of anthropologi cal archaeology, contain a considerable wealth of excellent architec tural data that remains available for contemporary study. Etymologically, architecture refers to those structures built by a master (Webster's New International Dictionary 1942), with implicit reference to a relatively high degree of structural complexity requir ing the presence of full-time construction specialists. In an an thropological consideration of architecture or architectural features, this definition must be expanded to include any structure or feature representing the built environment (McGuire and Schiffer 1983). The most common basis for classifying this broad set of features is func tion, yielding such types as residential structures, temples, pyra mids, storage and work facilities, defensive earthworks, and public 47 48 Elliot M. Abrams space. These functional categories are created through a combina tion of formal, spatial, and contextual attributes, all of which must be measurable and verifiable (Rathje and Schiffer 1982:62). Analyses dependent on functional categorization may either isolate single ar chitectural features, such as the house or the religious shrine, or focus on classes, such as vernacular or domestic architecture. A sec ond criterion of architectural classification is the cost of production, the most common category being monumental architecture. Specific classifications relating energy expenditure and energy flow have yielded the categories of productive and nonproductive architecture (Sidrys 1978). In whatever way one defines architecture, the primary consideration in classification, as a component of analysis, is that research be conducted on similar or comparable units of analysis. Over the past three decades, architecture has emerged from the context of pure description and qualitative assessment into one more embedded in anthropological and behavioral constructs (cf. Willey and Sabloff 1974). Several important qualities of architecture encourage a wide range of potential analyses within anthropological archaeology. Residential structures are nearly ubiquitous among cul tures (excluding those societies that only utilized natural shelters), and the house is an ideal unit of analysis in archaeological studies of settlement and demographic patterns, urbanization, sociopolitical organization, and family relations and organization (e.g., Wilk and Rathje 1982). Because architecture often is highly visible and dura ble, it frequently serves as a medium of political, social, ideological, and symbolic expression, and similarly lends itself to a variety of behavioral analyses (Rathje and Schiffer 1982:65). In addition, the differential expenditure in materials, time, and labor provide meas urable and verifiable indices of manufacture and maintenance costs, useful in a wide range of analyses, as will be discussed specifically in this paper. Overall, both the cultural embeddedness and scale of ar chitecture allow for a considerable range of analyses from an anthro pological perspective. It has been stated that anthropological archaeologists have ne glected architecture as a means of reconstructing evolutionary pat terns of cultural change (Gilman 1983, 1987). The study of architec ture in and of itself (and particularly domestic architecture) has lagged behind analyses of other classes of artifacts, such as ceramics and lithics. The analytic use of architecture, however, is actually quite common, its involvement being obfuscated within analyses Architecture and Energy 49 focusing only on its presence and distribution. Clearly the vast ma jority of settlement analyses and demographic reconstructions begin with architecture. Analyses, however, typically do not intensively scrutinize the architectural features themselves, and thus these arti facts remain underexploited by anthropological archaeologists. This analytic neglect of architecture is particularly ironic since architecture as a cultural creation was studied by one of anthropol ogy's earliest and most influential theoreticians, Lewis Henry Mor gan. In his classic Houses and House-Life among the American Aborigines ( 1881 ), Morgan was the first to recognize that architecture reflects social relations, including family structure, political organi zation, and kinship terminology, within and among cultures. In addi tion, he was the first to propose formally the correlation between architectural scale, quality, and variation with overall cultural com plexity. Although many of the theoretical and empirical statements of Morgan have since been retired from the anthropological litera ture, the development of much contemporary anthropological theory and method continues to reflect his influence (Harris 1968:188). This chapter in effect returns to Morgan's original thesis, examin ing the relationship between architecture and sociocultural com plexity, albeit from an energetic perspective not emphasized by Morgan. It investigates the epistemological underpinnings for an energetic approach to architecture, defining the goals and analytic potential of architectural energetics. It then considers the produc tion of domestic and public architecture within the context of in creasing cultural complexity, serving as a springboard for future research. A method involving the translation of architecture into energy is offered, followed by an application of this energetic ap proach to architecture at the Classic Maya center of Copan, Hon duras. This study is in part a consequence of the processual changes in cultural evolutionary studies and, thus, a brief overview of those paradigmatic changes is in order. A Brief History of the Analytic Role of Architecture The majority of architectural studies in anthropology made during the first half of this century reflected the collective Classical and Boasian concerns with detailed description. Some of 50 Elliot M. Abrams the finest architectural excavations, those sponsored, for example, by the Carnegie Institution of Washington, D.C., in the Maya Low lands, occurred during this developmental period. Although these architectural data were not fully exploited in terms of their analytic potential, they provided the foundation for ensuing analyses and cur rently represent a valuable data base, perhaps unmatched in the ar chaeological literature. Following Morgan, the next anthropological application of archi tecture was as an index of cultural stages within the unilineal frame works of Childe (1950), Service (1962), and Fried (1967). Pioneering studies \by Heizer (1960) on the Olmec and Erasmus (1965) on the Maya attempted to establish systemic connections between the vol ume of elite architecture and the scale and organization of labor characteristic of the evolutionary types of the state and chiefdom respectively. Regional studies on Mesoamerica (Sanders and Price 1968) and Mesopotamia (R. McC. Adams 1967) also utilized the pres ence and scale of architecture as an index of labor access and control and thus of cultural development. Although portions of these exem plary works have since been transcended both empirically and ana lytically, they drew architecture from its descriptive shell into the mainstream of evolutionary anthropology, and demonstrated consid erable analytic and theoretical progress beyond the monolithic dic tum of Morgan. For example, many of the statements concerning the systemic context for labor participation in preindustrial societies (Sanders and Price 1968:55) are applicable in contemporary studies. Perhaps reflecting the intellectual progress and insight of this period, caution against the overly simplistic correlation between architec ture and cultural types was expressed (Kaplan 1963; Heizer 1966), a portent of ensuing developments. During the 1970s, dissatisfaction with the rigidity of the taxo nomic structuring of evolutionary stages arose, and was expressed in various ethnological essays (e.g., Saxe 1970; Flannery 1972; Peebles and Kus 1977; Earle 1978). Recent critiques of evolutionary taxon omy argue that such a framework methodologically obfuscates the cultural variability that archaeologists are trying to recognize and conceptually biases the analysis of the nature of processual change and stability, the conceptual core of anthropological archaeology (Athens 1977; Yoffee 1979; Wenke 1981; McGuire 1983). In essence, the proponents of such criticism argue that the typologies of the 1960s assume stages of relative stability that should be considered Architecture and Energy 51 hypothetical, subject to empirical verification. Other researchers, both implicitly and explicitly (e.g., Sanders and Webster 1978; Earle 1987), suggest that these need not be mutually exclusive, and that the cross-cultural analytic as well as heuristic benefits support the use of these typologies. In fact, this debate is not over the use of typology in evolutionary studies?typology is a necessary and inte gral analytic component in the process of science. The issue centers on the appropriateness of the existing typology, a point that need not debilitate and, it is hoped, will not dominate, evolutionary studies. As noted by Wenke (1981:116), "The history of science shows that great advances are not always, or even usually, dependent upon ter minological purity." This re-examination of evolutionary taxonomy has had some im pact on the expansion and refinement of architectural analyses (e.g., Gilman 1983,1987; Lightfoot and Feinman 1982; McGuire and Schif fer 1983). McGuire's (1983) consideration of the evolution of resi dential structures in the Southwest perhaps best expressed this theoretical and analytic reorientation. First, the concept of cultural complexity was divided into the variables of social differentiation and social inequality?the degree of variation in statuses and the differential access to basic resources respectively. By measuring and comparing the size of residential and storage features, he concluded that differentiation, or social heterogeneity, evolved in a similar but distinct rate and degree as social inequality. Other analyses have considered architecture as a means of expanding our conception of cultural complexity (Arnold and Ford 1980; Cordy 1981; Turner et al. 1981; Cheek 1985, 1986), although far more are needed to refine the measurement and understanding of processual change of cultural systems. These analyses have been complemented by preliminary but im portant theoretical efforts aimed at understanding the cultural con text and diachronic changes of various architectural designs and features (Robbins 1966; Whiting and Ayres 1968; Rapoport 1969; Hunter-Anderson 1977; Fletcher 1977; Gilman 1983; McGuire and Schiffer 1983). The most synthetic of these efforts suggests that ar chitecture, as a cultural product, represents a compromise between varying needs and costs, and that the resulting architectural design thus reflects the cultural context for such decisions (McGuire and Schiffer 1983). They illustrate this point by suggesting that variations in vernacular architecture in the Southwest result from the interplay 52 Elliot M. Abrams between the variable costs involving uselife of the structure, residen tial mobility, production, and maintenance. Although preliminary, these efforts provide the foundation for the further generation of middle-range theoretical statements concerning cultural context, cultural complexity, and architectural form. In both the theoretical and empirical considerations of the evolu tion of architecture, there is consistent reference, either implicit or explicit, to the amount of energy expended in the production or maintenance of architecture. The production costs, most simply the energy expended during the complete construction process, have a strong influence of the presence and form of architecture (McGuire and Schiffer 1983:282). Some of the categorizations of architecture, such as monumental architecture, are based explicitly on relative energy expenditures. This connection between architecture and energy may provide the foundation for further archaeological investi gations of cultural complexity, and the implications of the epistem ological and ethnological relationship must be considered. Energy and Architecture Energetics, most succinctly, is the study of the transfor mation, conversion, and movement of physical energy (however ana lytically measured) through a system (e.g., Hardesty 1977). Unlike a strictly structural-functional or symbolic paradigm, energetics, grounded in physical relations rather than cultural values, attempts to provide a calculus of systemic change and thus lends itself to the anthropological study of cultural evolutionary process. The many applications of energetics in the physical and biological sciences (e.g., H. Odum 1971; Gregory 1987) as well as in biological anthropol ogy (e.g., B. Thomas 1973) are well known and widely accepted. The historic perspective and value of energetic models within cultural anthropology, most notably championed by White (1943; also Cot trell 1955), are similarly recognized, and their contemporary utility has been demonstrated recently by various researchers (e.g., Rap paport 1968; Kemp 1971; R. N. Adams 1975; Sanders and Santley 1983; G. Webster 1986). The epistemological foundation for such an energetic approach in archaeology was perhaps best expressed by Barbara Price (1982:720). "Whatever else a material object may represent, it is directly the Architecture and Energy 53 energy expended on it." Anthropologists certainly recognize the multiple attributes and cultural meanings within any artifact?as mentioned, houses in particular contain considerable and varied cul tural meaning. Some archaeological analyses, however, focus on those symbolic (i.e., psychological and emotional) aspects of artifacts that, although valuable within the holistic and emic conceptualiza tion of culture, are subject to disparate and largely untestable in terpretations (e.g., Hodder 1982). These analyses are thus beyond the realm of scientific inquiry. Price's point, that by studying the energe tic content of an artifact, we are analyzing a measurable, verifiable, culturally relevant and universally recurrent attribute, places ar chaeological analysis solidly within the domain of science. The explicit goals of the energetic analysis of architecture are to explain, in concert with middle-range theory, the cultural context that led to the particular pattern of energy expenditure and distribu tion, and to describe and explain the process of changing energy ex penditure in architecture through time. The ultimate goal of this analytic framework is to better understand the dynamics of proces sual cultural change. Couched in terms of McGuire's (1983) defini tion of cultural complexity, architectural energetics seeks to recon struct the scale of social differentiation and inequality as reflected in the energy expended in various architectural features. For example, architecture, by virtue of its capacity to absorb relatively large amounts of energy during production, can hypothetically reflect a significant range of organizational behaviors requisite for such con struction, an important index of cultural complexity. This connec tion between cultural complexity and architecture is considered in the following section. Several qualities of energy and architecture lend themselves analytically to the question of cultural complexity. Since quantifica tion of energy expended in the production of any artifact is possible, architecture can be articulated with the more comprehensive energy flow models of particular cultural systems. Furthermore, compari sons of architecture of varying quality, form, and function can be made, with energy as a common denominator. Finally, energetic data provide a more accurate measure of architecture than do simple enumerations or area/volume measurements. Comparative basal measurements, for example, ignore the differential costs that may affect eventual conclusions concerning social differentiation and inequality. 54 Elliot M. Abrams Architecture and Cultural Context This section explores the relationship between increasing energy expenditure in architecture and cultural complexity, based on ethnographical and archaeological data. The primary focus is the comparative expenditure in two general categories of architecture? residential structures and "public architecture"; the latter includes public burial and ceremonial structures. The cultural contexts for these data range from relatively low-complexity nomadic hunters and foragers to relatively complex stratified societies. Unfortunately, very few analyses relating architectural energetics to cultural com plexity have been conducted. Consequently, this review is necessar ily preliminary and any conclusions are tentative and subject to mod ification. In fact, far more questions will be raised than resolved. Because of the preliminary nature and breadth of this discussion, more complex models of causality for the patterns of energy expendi ture are secondary to the elucidation of the patterns themselves. The term "energy expenditure," in the present context, refers only to the total initial costs of production, including the energy ex pended in procuring raw materials, transporting those materials to the site of construction, manufacturing components of the struc ture, and actually assembling the structure. It does not incorporate the costs of training workers or of maintaining the structure once built. It further does not consider cost from the perspective of infla tion or changing value of labor through time. In nomadic hunter and gatherer societies, domestic structures em body relatively equal amounts of energy per capita, correlated with a relatively even social distribution of and access to energy. As Fried ( 1967:35) noted, "At the heart of an egalitarian society is a fundamen tal egalitarian economy." This egalitarian economy is characterized by balanced and generalized reciprocity that in effect level the distri bution of energy throughout society. Concentration of energy is thus minimized and domestic architecture, which most reflects personal status, reflects the relative absence of social differentiation and inequality. The amount of energy expended on the residential struc tures of nomadic societies is also quite low relative to similar archi tecture in more complex societies. Since nomadic populations anti cipate a limited uselife of the residence, it is expected that sufficient but limited amounts of energy be expended in construction (Robbins 1966; Hunter-Anderson 1978; McGuire and Schiffer 1983). Although Architecture and Energy 55 this energetic expenditure is low relative to costs by other cultures, the costs of production are likely to be high relative to most other objects or facilities. Few data exist concerning public architectural features produced by nomadic hunter-gatherer societies. Ethnographical and archae ological data indicate that these societies can and often do produce public space for ritual and recreational purposes (Drennan 1983). It appears, however, that little energy is expended in such efforts and, in order of magnitude, perhaps is comparable to that expended in residential architecture, although this remains untested. Residential architecture in sedentary villages requires greater ex penditures of energy than do residential structures in nomadic societies, as exemplified by data from the Midwest (Brown and Vierra 1983:170). This increased expenditure undoubtedly is a consequence of the need for more durable structures in anticipation of extended uselife and perhaps the minimization of maintenance costs. The dynamics of cultural complexity have been considered for some sed entary village societies. Lightfoot and Feinman (1982), for example, suggest the presence of village leaders in early Mogoll?n villages in the Southwest based on the increased size (and thus energy) of those pithouses associated with increased storage facilities and increased percentage of nonlocal goods. Researchers have challenged the integ rity of the archaeological data (Schiffer 1983:694), and have ques tioned the basic hypothesis linking village leaders with larger resi dences (Cordell 1984). Watson (1978), in an excellent study of the comparative room and house sizes among various Neolithic villages, clearly shows that intra- and intersite variability existed in residen tial architecture. Much of this variability, however, was a conse quence of the functional differentiation among rooms and struc tures, perhaps indicating an increase in social differentiation rather than an increase in social inequality. This too may have been the case in the early Mogoll?n village. This tentative conclusion, that increased variation in the size of residential structures reflects first and foremost an increase in social differentiation rather than social inequality, is supported to some degree by other analyses of residen tial structures in the Southwest (McGuire 1983; McGuire and Schif fer 1983:289). A caution against oversimplification is signaled by similar data from other southwestern sites. The measurement and analysis of room size at Grasshopper pueblo indicate that there is "very little residential variability that cannot be explained by house 56 Elliot M. Abrams hold size or stage of household development" (Rathje and Schiffer 1982:289). The burial data from Grasshopper, however, suggest a significant degree of social differentiation (Rathje and Schiffer 1982:294). Thus the degree to which architecture reflects social dif ferentiation and social inequality in these early villages is perhaps case-specific and quite variable. Public architecture among semisedentary and early sedentary societies is quite common in the archaeological record. For example, the Midwest region of the United States abounds in "ancient monu ments"?primarily burial mounds?that number in the tens of thou sands, many of which were constructed by seasonally sedentary, pre agricultural societies of the Middle Archaic-Early Woodland Period (ca. 4000 B.C.-A.D. 0). There are, unfortunately, no analyses that quantify the energy expended in the construction of any of these early mounds; thus an energetic comparison of residential and pub lic architecture cannot be presented. Based on excavated Early Wood land (Adena) burial mounds in southeast Ohio, several hypotheses concerning energy in these public structures can be offered. The con struction of these early mounds appears to have been incremental (e.g., Skinner and Norris 1984), involving numerous additions that suggest periodic, low energy expenditure per construction episode. Even the largest of the Ohio Adena mounds was built over several centuries. The difference in the costs of production between residen tial and public structures thus may not be as great as the static re mains might suggest. The primary difference between these two types of architectural works lies in their social function. Although burial mounds and residences both provide utilitarian functions, only mounds, at this stage in evolving cultural complexity, assume symbolic (i.e., nontechnological) functions. This stage in cultural evolution has been characterized, among other things, by increased territoriality, intergroup conflict, and intragroup communication (e.g., Brown 1985; Braun 1986; O'Brien 1987). These mounds and similar burial features elsewhere may have served as integrative arti facts, both enhancing local group solidarity and signaling the terri torial claims of that group (e.g., Renfrew 1983). If so, then their uselife would have been multigenerational, requiring either greater initial expenditures of energy in production or, as seems to have been the case, greater expenditures in maintenance of these mounds. To the best of my knowledge, there are no analyses tracing the patterns of energy expenditure in either residential or public archi Architecture and Energy 57 tecture from relatively egalitarian sedentary societies to early hier archical societies. These ranked societies (Fried 1967) are typified by a two-tiered sociopolitical hierarchy, an increased population size and nucleation, a greater dependence on fewer economic resources, and a growing complexity of resource distribution mechanisms. Al though archaeologists need to establish the relation between growth in architecture along this continuum of increasing complexity, the ethnographic record does suggest an increased energetic expenditure in those residential structures associated with the chief or political leader of that territorial unit. Such structures include not only the chief's residence but also those of his closest genealogical or political associates. Several ethnographies describe the house of the chief as being larger and more ornate than that of the commoner, including ranked societies found in Panama (Helms 1979), Hawaii (Tuggle 1979), Tonga (Gifford 1929), Tahiti (Goldman 1970:181), India (von Furer-Haimendorf 1969), and Fiji (Tippett 1968). Certainly this ethnographic inventory could be expanded and in no way should be taken as exhaustive. It should be added, however, that the absence of a larger chiefly residence need not preclude increases in cultural complexity. The ethnographical record fortunately is complemented by the ar chaeological, which allows us to trace the gradual development of differential expenditure in residential structures. Such cases as Structure A-1, Loma Terremote, Mexico (Sanders et al. 1979:319) and Structure 16, San Jose Mogote, Oaxaca (Flannery et al. 1981:71) exemplify the evolution of chiefly compounds or structures. Again, although no analyses charting the patterns of energy expenditure in residential structures have been undertaken, the quantification of these architectural data, aided by middle-range hypotheses concern ing status and residence, may help answer some of the questions concerning the evolution of social complexity. Although preliminary, data on residential structures in the earliest stages of ranked societal development reflect limitations in the amount of energy expended in their construction, which may suggest a greater increase in social differentiation relative to social inequality. For example, Structure 16 at San Jose Mogote, Oaxaca, built at ca. 850 B.C., was erected on a one-meter-high platform, un like any residential structure in this small village (Flannery et al. 1981:72). By 450 B.C., larger, more elaborate residential structures (e.g., Structures 25, 26, and 28) were constructed. However, the 58 Elliot M. Abrams energetic limitations reflected by these structures are duly noted: "even the most elaborate Rosario phase residences so far discovered could have been built by the members of one family; they needed no corv?e labor, such as was required in the later palaces of Monte Alban II" (Flannery et al. 1981:83). These limitations on the indi vidual access to absolutely large amounts of energy, by definition, are lodged within the economic structure of ranked society. As Fried (1967:177) noted, "The underlying egalitarian economy in rank soci ety drastically limits the power of those in high-ranking statuses to manage the distribution of usufructuary rights to strategic re sources" (Fried 1967:177, emphasis added; see also Price 1984:219). Both ethnographical and archaeological evidence reveal that larger, more varied, and more numerous public structures are found within ranked society, these structures principally being storage facilities, burial chambers, religious structures, military edifices, defensive works, and public space (e.g., Service 1962:135; R. McC. Adams 1967:11; Peebles and Kus 1977:432; Price 1979, 1984; Evans-Pritch ard 1940; Helms 1979; Henry 1928; Tuggle 1979; Sanders et al. 1979; Flannery and Marcus 1976; Flannery et al. 1981). In ranked societies, energy is expended in greater amounts, relative to egalitarian societies, on larger, more numerous, and more varied public architec ture, thus reflecting the system's increased scale of political organi zation and power. As one example among many, Goldman noted that "the construction of larger maraes on Tahiti than on Raiatea attests to growing power of the former, for the size of marae was the con stant Polynesian index of political standing" (Goldman 1970:177). Empirical analyses that consider the production and control of the energy base directed towards such architecture must be a major goal of future research. The increased expenditure in public architecture is caused by a number of variables relating to technological/utilitarian functions (e.g., Peebles and Kus 1977) and integrative/symbolic functions (e.g., Renfrew 1986), "financed" in essence by the growing surplus energy produced by that system (cf. Sahlins 1972; Price 1984). This amount of energy can be very high. For example, Reed et al. (1968), quantify ing the energy in Monks Mound, Cahokia, Illinois, suggested that 133,600 man-days of labor were expended in the largest single episode of construction, a far greater amount of energy than that spent in building any of the earlier Adena mounds. In addition, the energy expended in public architecture clearly exceeds that in even Architecture and Energy 59 the most costly residential structures. The Rosario phase public structures from Oaxaca, for example, appear to have demanded far more energy in production than any of the high-status residences from that period (Flannery and Marcus 1976). Again, charting the trajectories of differential expenditures in these two classes of archi tecture may prove valuable in measuring the comparative increase in cultural complexity. The transition from a ranked to a stratified system of human or ganization is one of the dominant research topics in anthropological archaeology (e.g., Cohen and Service 1978; Haas 1982). Unfortu nately, associated analyses involving architecture and energy are nearly absent. It has been suggested that, during the later stages of growth and expansion of ranked society, social inequality increases at a disproportionately greater rate than social differentiation, a change in social relations that should be evident architecturally (Price 1984:221). If so, then architecture?specifically residential architecture?should provide a measure of emerging stratification within an essentially ranked society. It is within the context of a generalized model of stratified society that a larger number of domestic structures consume significantly greater and differential amounts of energy, reflecting the increased differential access by individuals to basic and strategic resources (Fried 1967, 1978). All stratified societies exhibit differential expendi ture in residential architecture. Although social scientists are typi cally conditioned to avoid absolutes, I have yet to read any ethno graphic description of a stratified society in which residences do not reflect concentrations of wealth, privilege, and political power. Im portantly, these residential structures reflect differential energy ex penditure for personal use. Individuals now have increasingly greater control over the storage and movement of energy and they now are socially and ideologically less restricted from directing some of that total energy for their own private use. Residential architecture reflects these changing social relations energetically through an expansion in both utility (e.g., increased space for comfort) and symbolism (e.g., facades reflecting group iden tity). Hypothetically, the increasing range of production costs in residences reflects substantive variation in the process of expand ing social inequality. Energy differences during the initial stages of stratification, which, as mentioned, may occur in later stages of ranked societal development, may be a reflection of greater access to 60 Elliot M. Abrams resources above the average,- thus, some households may be able to expend greater than average amounts of energy in residential archi tecture. As the process of social stratification continues, that range of production costs may expand in a downward direction, a conse quence of the inability of some households to meet even basic needs. Thus, energy expenditure in residential architecture may drop below the average, with affordability being a critical variable influencing architectural design. Residential structures such as theTlamimilolpa apartment compound at Teotihuacan, representing substandard per capita energy expenditure (Mill?n 1976:220), may reflect this down ward expansion of social inequality and thus a later stage of social stratification. Based on its "monumentality," much public architecture has jus tifiably been viewed as one of the hallmarks of stratified society (e.g., Childe 1950; Sanders and Price 1968; Drucker 1981). The amount of energy expended during single episodes of construction reflects the involvement of very large numbers of people, an organization capa ble of orchestrating those individuals, the political power requisite for mobilizing that labor force, the presence of craft specialists sufficiently trained and skilled to contribute to the construction pro cess, and a system that can afford to lose the energy that otherwise would have been produced during the period of construction. Such edifices as the great pyramids of Egypt or the Pyramid of the Sun at Teotihuacan materially reflect the extreme scale of hierarchical or ganization and control of political power subsumed in the definition of the true stratified state. Because we are dealing with continua of social power within stratified societies, however, all monumental architecture must not be conceived of a priori as a static reflection of "the state." Many degrees of monumentality exist that may corre spond to the transitional stages in state formation (e.g., Monks Mound) and, as is true for domestic architecture, more studies must be conducted if we are to develop a clearer processual picture of hierarchical societies. Comparative basal measurements of pyramids, as estimates of energy, have been used to monitor the patterns of increasing social differentiation and inequality in the context of the stratified pre industrial state (Rathje 1975; McGuire 1983). The earliest Egyptian pyramids were far greater in size and energy than any residential structure, suggesting that social inequality was very high relative to social differentiation. During the later stages of state development, Architecture and Energy 61 residential architecture absorbs an increasing amount of the total energy, resulting in a decrease in the size of monumental architec ture. This change in distribution of energy is interpreted as reflecting less a decrease in social inequality than an increase in social differen tiation through time. This pattern of high investment in public ar chitecture, followed by a more equitable distribution of energy in all types of architecture is supported by preliminary analysis of the Classic-Postclassic transition among the lowland Maya (Rathje 1975), and provides a substantive comparative model of energy ex penditure. These studies further reflect the complementary relation ship between the variables of inequality and heterogeneity and their combined importance in analyses. There are many disparate perspectives on large-scale public ar chitecture, ranging from the strictly energetic (e.g., Aaberg and Bon signore 1975) to the metaphoric (e.g., Leach 1983). Certainly complex cultural systems, the products of long periods of organizational mod ifications and increased capabilities for energy capture, correspond ingly will produce greater varieties of architecture. Given the direct relation between energy and the economic sys tem responsible for that energy, some scholars have causally linked large public architecture with the dynamic functioning of the econ omy. For example, construction of such edifices has been perceived as a functional means of offsetting "unemployment" (e.g., Ham mond 1977:74). However, a consideration of the economic context of many of these early stratified societies militates against this explanatory framework. Many preindustrial state systems were not characterized by an open, competitive, and dominant market system complemented by a market mentality regarding the fluidity of the conversion of goods. Similarly, the degree of social stratification was, perhaps, not generated by a complementary degree of economic dif ferentiation. These characteristics of the modern industrial state economy are perhaps necessary for creating such conditions as un employment, and it is likely that we may be drawing too directly from formal economic theory in our projections of past state economies (e.g., Polanyi 1944; Polanyi et al. 1957). Further, the con cept of mass unemployment is inconsistent with the social embed dedness that characterized pre-industrial economies. Social corpo rate kin groups often dominated economic activities, and this social network served as a buffer against familial or personal economic hardship. Any broader and more severe economic hardship caused, 62 Elliot M. Abrams for example, by disease or drought would drain the redistributive coffers of the state, thus making unviable a policy of labor taxation for construction. It is more likely that monumental architecture in state societies was built for the purpose of enhancing social integration, reflecting the increased willingness to invest in the symbolic component of architecture (e.g., Rathje 1975; Webster 1976; Hammond 1977). Large, state-authorized public architecture may provide the central and conspicuous symbol of group identity in the context of the in creasing linguistic, ethnic, social, and economic heterogeneity that characterize states. Even personal works involving portraits of rulers may be associated with both individual and group sentiment. As Hammond (1977:74), referring to Classic Maya centers, has sug gested, "The aggrandizement of the ceremonial center increases the stake each individual has in the system and focuses loyalty in a cen tripetal manner." A corollary is that the political strategy of building to enhance group cohesion may be employed during those times when group solidarity is most needed?during times of economic or political stress. That the Pyramid of the Sun was constructed at a relatively early period in Teotihuacan's growth may represent one case of this political strategy (Webster 1976:817). Similarly, it has been noted that Classic Maya construction efforts increased just prior to the fragmentation of that political system (Willey and Shimkin 1973; Cheek 1986). Given the stress on the system, these efforts too may have been undertaken as an attempt to offset symbolically the loss of social cohesion and thus political power by those in authority. In conclusion, the ethnographical and archaeological data clearly suggest that architecture is a relatively effective and valuable archae ological index of cultural complexity, and support the general pat tern of increased architectural energy expenditure concomitant with increased cultural complexity. Because the process of cultural change is non-teleologic, variations in this general pattern should be archaeologically detectable and, by and large, architecturally measur able. Architectural features, however, are but one material index of complexity, and thus analyses of varied artifacts should be consi dered when assessing the degree of sociopolitical complexity of any archaeological culture. This overview supports the efficacy of social differentiation and social inequality as variables that reflect cultural complexity. One Architecture and Energy 63 hypothesis, discussed below, is that social differentiation develops prior to and in more complex expressions than social inequality, al though these two variables are of course related. Only with the emergence of social stratification as a particular kind of inequality does inequality begin to dominate social relations, having a greater impact on social interaction than does social differentiation. Cer tainly one of the major areas for continued research involves the relationship between these two critical variables and their specific expression in a range of diverse architectural features. Methodological Considerations From the previous section we see that one of the chal lenges facing archaeologists is the need to explore in greater depth the complexity of architectural expenditure within an evolutionary perspective. Added to this is the need for greater methodological re finement. Since archaeologists do not excavate energy but rather the material embodiments of energy, architecture must accurately be translated into its energetic equivalence, expressed in standard units of measurement that will vary according to the analytic goals of the archaeologist. A labor-time measurement is the most common unit of energy cost in construction, a consequence of its integrity, accuracy, and accessibility through either ethnographical or experimental timed observations. Specifically, person-days (p-d) or man-days (m-d) are most commonly used in the context of labor costs, although occa sionally person-hours or even years may be more appropriate. De pending upon the goals of analysis, the labor-time figure may be used as is or transformed into labor, with time held constant. In addition, this labor-time unit can be translated into actual energy (i.e., kilo calories expended as heat) via reference to physiologic equivalence tables (Consolazio et al. 1963; Durnin and Passmore 1967; Edholm 1967). Such conversion places the energy expended in architecture within the framework of total energy flow through society, one of the analytic possibilities within the energetic approach. A more di rect and accurate, albeit logistically difficult, means of obtaining ac tual energy expenditure in construction is through the measurement of respiration during work (Shimada 1978). Although few researchers are likely to use such a technique, the figures obtained should be 64 Elliot M. Abrams highly accurate, thus providing guidelines for the more indirect use of physiologic tables. Two sets of independent data are required in architectural energe tics: (1) architectural data involving volume of materials, quality of workmanship and number of building episodes; and (2) energy costs per task in the total process of construction. The first set of data is the product of archaeological reconstruction, itself influenced by the ethnographic record. Clearly the quantity and accuracy of these data directly affect the confidence assigned to the corresponding energe tic analyses. Whether the researcher examines a total structure or episodes within a single structure depends entirely upon the re search goals, resources, and data available,- of course only similar units of analysis provide meaningful comparative inferences. The second set of data is obtained through timed observations of work tasks in an ethnographic setting ("natural" experiments), through timed observations of work within a prepared setting ("con trolled" or replicative experiments), or through interviews with workers who previously have performed the tasks in question. Each technique has its benefits and drawbacks. Neither of the two timed observation methods necessarily leads to more accurate cost data since both depend upon similar assumptions between compara ble past and present behaviors,- both, however, produce more reli able data, all things being equal, than do interviews. Often the re searcher is forced to rely upon interview data; this should not be considered poor data a priori but rather should be conceived of as temporary, to be replaced or supported by data obtained through timed observations. The conduct of timed observations in natural settings is by and large intuitive, guided by common sense. Careful and complete de scription of tasks, complemented by photographs, yields labor costs. Two points, applicable to both of the timed observation contexts, deserve emphasis. First, large work efforts, complex in their labor components and personnel, should be timed with each specific task measured as discretely as possible. For example, observing house construction should yield not only the total cost of house construc tion but also the labor-time expended in each specific task in house construction. Although possible to control in a timed, replicative experimental setting, this is often difficult to effect in a natural set ting. It is important to attempt, however, since some costs in the Architecture and Energy 65 total process of construction will likely be inappropriate for a variety of reasons (for example, building wattle and daub walls with a metal roof). Being able to replace those specific costs depends upon the separate recording of those tasks. Second, all descriptions of timed observations must be explicit. If this method is expected to contri bute to archaeological research, then researchers must be absolutely explicit in detailing the conditions of timed work, stating both strengths and ambiguities of data collection. Controlled replicative experiments too are guided essentially by common sense. Some fundamental rules in conducting such experi ments have been clearly presented by Coles (1973, 1979), including such points as using local and prehistorically available materials, using experienced workers, repeating tasks, and varying workers. In addition, the time spent during work that is not productive time should be timed separately but unless excessive should be included in the total time required for that task. Thus time spent taking breaks, unless extreme, should be considered a necessary component of the natural work process. Several considerations regarding the application of the energetic method deserve mention. Metric analyses can be conducted on unex cavated structures (e.g., Arnold and Ford 1980), although such quan tification opens the researcher to criticism based on the uncertainty of volume and quality of materials (Folan et al. 1982). Since energetic costs are not new data but rather a restatement of existing architec tural data, their accuracy is dependent on the quality of this data base. In addition, researchers translating architecture into energy must remember that these figures, once derived, do not point to obvi ous answers but rather are subject to varied interpretations and per spectives. We must not make the epistemological assumption that dealing with energy is somehow a priori closer to truth. An additional problem in the application of energetic costs of con struction lies in the comparability of units of analysis. Any analysis of specific architectural features demands that similar units be com pared. For example, if a single structure providing space for both residential use and cooking later evolved into separate residential and kitchen structures, then a comparison of labor in residential con struction must incorporate that energy expended in building the separate kitchen. In essence, the proper unit of analysis should be the total set of domestic structures (residence, shrine, kitchen, etc.) 66 Elliot M. Abrams rather than solely the residence. In many analyses, the basis for selecting architectural units should be their affiliation with compar able social units, since these ultimately are the subjects of analysis. The question of comparability further must be considered in the context of cross-cultural inferences generated by energetic-architec tural analyses. Analyses of architectural change conducted on a single cultural system justifiably assume a certain degree of cultural continuity in the use of architecture as an expression of social status or power,- such analyses offer greater confidence in providing relative and absolute indices of cultural complexity. It is a false assumption, however, that all cultures express relations of political power and status similarly through architecture. Factors such as different cul tural values, historic contexts, and raw materials, as well as differen tial formation processes influencing recovery and preservation (Schiffer 1983) affect the architectural record and integrity of cross cultural comparisons. These possible deviating factors should not inhibit cross-cultural comparisons of energy since the relative struc ture of expenditure should provide insights into the relative com plexity of various sociopolitical organizations. If comprehensive re search reveals that architecture simply was avoided as a reflector of social variations, then some other material objects doubtless were functional equivalents, and those objects rather than architecture should be investigated. For these other objects, then, labor input may be their most important attribute. Only further empirical studies will make clear the potential of architecture as an index in cross cultural analyses of cultural complexity. Another problem concerns time. Although we are able to arrive at labor costs per structure, we rarely know the duration of associated physical effort (Sidrys 1978). Comparisons of energy, of course, can be made without distinguishing between labor and time, and total costs are quite useful in meeting some research goals. Deriving labor from time, however, does require some accepted estimate of the dur ation of construction. This problem can be resolved for the purposes of analysis by using a standardized and consistent time as a de nominator. If we are quantifying domestic structures, a standard time of 60 or 100 days is justifiable. Agrarian societies typically build houses during a single agricultural off-season, thus avoiding schedul ing conflicts and providing the household with a critical facility as soon as possible (e.g., Redfield and Villa R. 1964; Vogt 1969). Unlike Architecture and Energy 67 most public structures, domestic structures are typically built for more immediate use. If a length of time for construction of public architecture is re quired, one can respond in part by scrutinizing the ethnographic literature to arrive at some reasonable amount of time. This admit tedly is not particularly satisfying or verifiable given the enormous range of possibilities. Perhaps only detailed excavations of large structures coupled with Chronometrie dating for each episode of con struction will resolve some of the ambiguities concerning large pub lic architecture. The final consideration is perhaps the most serious, challenging the validity of the energetic method. One of the principal goals of architectural energetics is to elicit some understanding of the rela tions of social power or social inequality as a primary component of cultural complexity (R. N. Adams 1975). The quantification of that energy is often based on assumptions concerning the perform ance and organization of work, itself a component of the broader sociopolitical structure that we are trying to reconstruct. Thus, it could be argued that such analyses are tautologous and, worse, self fulfilling. The researcher should bear in mind that decisions concerning the conduct of replicative experiments are guided by the archaeo logical record in its most complete sense. Tools used in replicative timing experiments should be fashioned after those recovered archaeologically, their function determined through wear-pattern or comparable analyses. Other archaeological data such as construction worker's quarters (Bierbrier 1982) add confidence to decisions con cerning the logistical structure of work and size of the labor force. Broadly conceived replicative experiments, such as that conducted by Callahan (1981), greatly add to the refinement of how buildings were constructed, thus reducing the number of methodological assumptions. In many ways, it is appropriate and necessary for feedback to exist between methodological assumptions and energetic reconstructions. The ethnology of construction points to rather distinct patterns of scheduling (which may narrow the options for duration of construc tion projects) and the organization of labor (Udy 1959). These be havioral and systemic patterns should be relied upon heavily in deci sion making concerning the method of architectural energetics. 68 Elliot M. Abrams One central point of contention is that we never will know how hard people actually work, that rate being dependent on various attri butes of the system, such as private ownership, work ethic, numbers and organization of laborers, and levels of compulsion. The use of a broad range of possible labor costs may result in an inability to dis criminate between systems of labor organization. Clearly the only solution is to rely upon standard rates of actual work derived from ethnographical, experimental, and physiological data. For example, Erasmus ( 1965) determined that the efficiency of northern Yucatecan workers transporting heavy loads drops dramatically after five hours. One can assume that actual workers either ceased moving stones after five hours, were less efficient at that task, or were forced to continue. Regardless of what one decides, the figures of labor-time will not change dramatically, and if the figures of cost/task are con sistently applied, the final totals will not vary to any significant de gree. It is critical that researchers avoid extremes that are by defini tion improbable and thus of limited analytic value. It should be added that the translation of architecture into meas ured energetic effort is not a prerequisite for productive use of the architectural data base. For example, studies measuring the degree of urbanization based on the volume and density of architecture may be as discerning as those based on the energetic quantification of that architecture. Although the value of the energetic approach should be clear, the researcher must assess through empirical testing whether this method is most incisive in answering the particular research question!s). In sum, it is argued that standard rates of work, determined from a wide range of sources and consistently applied to architecture, can provide useful estimates of total labor costs for architectural fea tures. That there are factors that introduce uncertainty into the method of quantification only serves as encouragement to collect more data, both from behavioral and archaeological contexts. Fi nally, researchers should not be confounded by the inability to arrive at absolute energetic costs; reasonable, standard estimates may be the best we will ever achieve and such estimates in fact are valuable in a comparative analytic framework. That they do not "ring of truth," to paraphrase John Coles (1973:168), only aligns them with all other studies conducted within the scientific epistemology of an thropological archaeology. Architecture and Energy 69 Case Example: The Late Classic Maya at Copan, Honduras As a result of nearly a century of archaeological research, beginning with Gordon (1896) and Maudslay (1889-1902) and con tinuing to the present (e.g., Baudez 1983; Sanders 1986; Webster and Fr?ter, 1989), Copan stands as one of the most studied Classic Maya centers in the southern Lowlands. A primary focus of research at Copan, as well as at other Classic centers, has been the thorough excavation of architecture. Early efforts, involving widespread clear ing and trenching, targeted the largest and most elaborate structures in the Main Center (e.g., Trik 1939). Later efforts increased the sam ple of excavated architecture by expanding first into the residential zones adjacent to the Main Center (e.g., Willey et al. 1978; Webster and Abrams 1983; Sanders 1986) and then into relatively remote rural areas still within the domain of the Copan polity (Webster and Gonlin, 1988). As a consequence of this extensive research, the archi tectural data from Copan allow relatively accurate volumetric mea surements for a wide range of structures, thus making possible a variety of energetic analyses. The architectural data from Copan are largely restricted to the Late Classic period, and thus analyses cur rently focus more heavily on reconstructing social relations during a specific period of cultural development. Associated with this sizable data base are others, including features, inscriptions, art, artifacts, ecofacts, and mortuary materials, which provide an interactive ana lytic framework to independently assess and guide the reconstruc tions generated from the energetic analysis of architecture. The data on labor costs per task were obtained primarily through controlled replicative experiments (Abrams 1984b; Erasmus 1965) and through timed observations of "natural" work activities (Eco nomic Commission for Asia and the Far East 1957). Very few data were obtained through interviews of workmen, an acceptable but less reliable source of labor costs. A total of 21 tasks within the 4 operations of procurement, transport, manufacture, and construc tion were quantified. The costs of each task within these four major operations of construction are presented in Table 2.1. The applica tion of these costs, collected in the Copan Valley, Honduras, to one of the structures at Copan, is presented in Table 2.2. Since these costs were determined in the Copan Valley, their applicability within 70 Elliot M. Abrams Table 2.1. Labor Costs for Operations and Tasks in Construction (from Abrams 1984b: 190). Procurement Tuff: 750 kg/p-d Earth: 2.6 m3/p-d Water: 10 L/12 seconds Grass: 15 cargas (150 kg)/p-d Wood: 13, 44, 66, and 88 minutes/p/treea Cobbles: 7200 kg/p-d Transport P-D/m3 = [L/(Q x H)] x pl/V 4- 1/V']b Manufacture Dressed masonry: 1 m3/11.6p-d Rough-cut cobbles: 1 m3/1.16 p-d Sculpture: simple: 70 minutes/375 cm2; complex: 370 minutes/550 cm2 Plaster: 8.25 m3/362 p-d = 1 m3/43.9 p-d Beams: 1.0 m2 prepared surface/8.3 p-h Construction Substructural fill: 4.8 m3/p-d for finely-placed fillc Superstructural fill: 4.8 m3/p-d Dressed masonry walls: .8 m3/p-d Cobble retaining wall: .8 m3/p-d Cobble-c?sc?/o sub-flooring: 9.6 m2/p-d Plastering: 10 m2/p-d Champas: P-D = [2.95 + .16 (AREA)] + 5 Grass roofs: P-D = 2.95 + .16 (AREA) Perishable walls: P-D = -11.14 + 1.23 (AREA) Key: a. The 4 different costs of cutting trees correspond to 4 categories of tree diameter and hardness. b. L = distance to materials (km); Q = capacity of container (m3); V = kilometers traveled per hour, unloaded (a constant of 5); V = kilometers traveled per hour, loaded (a constant of 3); H = hours of work per day (a constant of 5) (modified from Gonlin 1985). c. The presence of finely-placed fill?fill which required more care and thus time?depends on the height of the substructure. Architecture and Energy 71 Table 2.2. Labor Costs for Structure 9N-83, Copan. (Numbers are in person-days.) Procurement Tuff: Earth: Water: Wood: Cobbles: Sub-total: Transport Tuff: Earth: Water: Wood: Cobbles: Plaster: Sub-total: 407.3 93.5 1.5 28.7 43.5 574.5 1,664.0 1,233.5 8.8 23.0 240.0 352.9 3,522.2 Manufacture Masonry: Plaster: Beams: Sculpture: Sub-total: 1,061.4 1,084.3 8.1 1.8 2,155.6 Construction Substructural fill: 23.8 Substructural masonry: 40.0 Superstructural fill: 12.4 Superstructural masonry: 74.4 Cobble surface: 15.0 Plaster: 8.2 Sub-total: 173.8 TOTAL: 6,426.1 person-days Note: Structure 9N-83 was a relatively large residential structure in Group 9N-8, located approximately 1 km east of the Main Center. Complete clearing and trenching revealed a masonry superstructure of 5 rooms resting on a 2 m high masonry substructure. All raw materials were quantified. The substructural fill was composed of 44 percent rock, 56 percent earth. Of the rock, 60 percent was tuff, 40 percent was limestone. From replicative experiments involving the cutting of tuff, it was determined that dividing the volume of dressed tuff masonry by .55 yielded the volume of quarried tuff. significantly different techno-environmental settings remains an empirical question. The first set of analyses focused on assessing the structure of the sociopolitical hierarchy at Copan, couched within a model of ranked lineage corporate units (Kurjack 1974; Sanders 1981, 1989). This in itself is a departure from many other studies that have used labor costs of structures only from major centers as indices of cultural complexity within a typologie framework (e.g., Erasmus 1965; Coe 1968). Willey and Leventhal (1979) first established a five-level hier 72 Elliot M. Abrams archy of sociopolitical statuses based primarily on the number and size of structures in courtyard units, later substantiated by Hendon's (1987) artifact analysis. As an initial application of the energetic ap proach, energetic costs for structures within courtyards on four of these levels, representing various co-resident social units, were quan tified. It was determined that residential courtyards of primarily masonry structures embodied 725 p-d, 3,226 p-d, 16,243 p-d, and 33,726 p-d of energy, representing each of the four levels (Abrams 1984b; Gonlin 1985). A rural type 1 courtyard was estimated to em body 205 p-d (Gonlin 1985), complementing the pattern of increasing energy expenditure within courtyards. Despite the limited sample, these energetic figures confirm the hierarchic ordering of courtyards and methodologically improve upon those more general measures of social status and power based on number, size, and quality of archi tecture. Further, they provide the basis for more detailed analyses of the sociopolitical organization at this Late Classic center. The sample of structures then was expanded to include the highest level of social status represented by a royal residence in the Main Center (Abrams 1984b, 1987). The energetic assessment of Structure 10L-22 made possible the comparison of energy in single residential structures across the entire social spectrum. It was shown that rural commoner residences of wattle and daub required between 50 and 100 p-d, that masonry residences within the dense urban barrios re quired from approximately 1,000 p-d to 5,000 p-d (8,000 being a maximum), and that the royal palace required roughly 30,000 p-d. These relatively discrete clusters of energy suggested a three-tiered hierarchy of social and political statuses within Late Classic society, possibly indicative of an early stratified state system (e.g., Wright and Johnson 1975). Further sociopolitical complexity is suggested by the range of labor costs within the two lower levels (excluding for now the upper level with a sample size of one). The commoner resi dence did not reflect a wide range of costs, suggesting a lower degree of social differentiation and inequality among commoners. The range of costs in residences within the urban barrio, however, was relatively wide, varying by several thousand person-days. This sug gests a greater disparity in access to social and political power among these residents, supported by energetic-architectural data fromTikal (Arnold and Ford 1980) and inherent in the criteria for the Willey Leventhal typology. Further analysis of these urban barrios should reveal the factors underlying this broad status variation. Architecture and Energy 73 The tentative pattern of increasing social inequality within stratified societies, discussed above, suggested that increases in resi dential expenditures above the average should precede expansion below the average,- thus, we should see residences reflecting a higher quality of life prior to those reflecting a condition of poverty. The above energetic data on residential architecture clearly reflect a higher standard of living for some households, concomitant with their greater access to basic resources. However, the data do not suggest the presence of substandard housing that would indicate a "lower class." Thus, the social structure at Copan and perhaps other Maya centers incorporated elements of stratification but appears not to have developed this system of social relations to its extreme. Hypothetically, there may have existed economic and sociopolitical institutions that militated against this increase in social inequality, consistent with the model depicting social relations in early strati fied states as being organized largely within corporate kin units (San ders and Webster 1978). The labor requirements in residential structures also were trans lated into the number of laborers only, reflecting the differential abil ity to recruit labor across social statuses. Based on a standard time denominator of 60 days for each operation, it was determined that the royal palace required about 400 conscripted workers whereas the largest structure in the adjacent urban barrio, Structure 9N-82 center, required 137 drafted workers, and the commoner required only 2 to 5 laborers. These figures suggest a model of hierarchical labor recruitment, the ruler able to recruit from the entire polity, possibly within the context of a form of corv?e system, the inter mediate elite capable of drawing sufficient labor from a social corpo rate group or subdivision of the polity in a more festive or social context, and the commoner drawing exclusively from a familial net work of reciprocal relationships (Abrams, 1989). This reconstruction of labor recruitment systems speaks directly to the question of social inequality and the degree of development of social power. Research addressing the changing pattern of political power rela tions during several centuries of the Classic Period has been ad dressed by Cheek (1985, 1986), although the lack of middle-range theory linking large public architecture with political power and symbolic expression accentuates the preliminary nature of this im portant research. Comparing estimates of labor expended in building architecture in the Great Plaza at Copan during periods of substantial 74 Elliot M. Abrams systemic growth, Cheek was able to chart the relative ability of rul ers to amass and direct labor for construction of public architecture. His research suggests that, from A.D. 350 through A.D. 700, con struction was steady or slightly decreasing. A dramatic increase in construction lasted until about A.D. 800, followed by an equally sharp decrease in construction. Soon after, the Main Center was abandoned (Cheek 1986:53). These data confirm previous reconstruc tions that place social inequality at its peak during the Late Classic Period, suggest a long period of relative political stability during the Early Classic Period, and establish an architectural-energetic founda tion for future analyses. The comparative cost of residential architecture within Mayan polities further serves as an index of the degree of urbanization (e.g., Arnold and Ford 1980). The Copan data indicate quite clearly that status was correlated with proximity to the Main Center. Although a range of architectural costs are dispersed throughout both the urban barrios and the rural landscape, cumulative architectural expenditures in the Main Center were significantly higher than in the urban barrios and costs in the urban barrios were greater than in the rural zones. The energetic data lend support to the vast settle ment data from Copan, which also suggest that the process of popula tion nucleation was active, albeit still at a rather preliminary stage of development (Fr?ter 1988). The energetics of architecture can be used further to estimate the number of specialists involved in the construction process, reflecting the degree of economic specialization, or minimally one aspect of socioeconomic differentiation, construction process. This analysis focused necessarily on a relatively large structure?Structure 10L 22?located in the Main Center of Copan. Based on the quantifica tion and division of total energy into workers per task, it was deter mined that very few full- or part-time specialists were required in the construction process (Abrams 1987). Most workers were proba bly conscripts from the various social corporate units obligated to contributing labor to the central authority, complementing the re sults of the analysis of labor recruitment systems. This conclusion of limited economic specialization is bolstered by similar energetic analyses of obsidian tool manufacture (Mallory 1984), ground stone production (Spink 1983), and stelae carving (Abrams 1984a). All quantify the labor costs of production in relation to the uselife of that particular artifact and, in conjunction with the architecture Architecture and Energy 75 analysis, concur that few specialists were created by the economic system, further supporting the model of lineages as organizers and controllers of production and perhaps even inhibitors to the eco nomic division of labor. The quantification of a greater number and range of structures will better test the conclusions drawn for Copan, as well as add to the number of possible analyses. It is hoped that this case has exem plified the range of architectural analyses possible within an energe tic framework. Similar analyses at other Maya centers and of other data bases undoubtedly will refine our reconstruction of increasing complexity of this particular cultural system and, more importantly, will also provide anthropologists with empirical analyses by which to better study the complexity of the process of cultural evolution. Conclusions The principal goals of this chapter have been to provide epistemological, ethnological, and methodological support and jus tification for the application of energetics to architecture, the under lying goal being that of encouraging further research in architectural energetics. Only the gains made through continued efforts will deter mine whether the latter goal in fact has been achieved. It was argued that energy, as an attribute of architecture, is empirical, cross-cultur ally valid, and verifiable, and thus particularly valuable in compara tive analyses of architecture. A general pattern of increasing energe tic expenditure concomitant with increasing social differentiation and inequality was described, supported by ethnographical and ar chaeological data. Finally, the method and application of the energe tics of architecture in an archaeological context were presented, illustrating the viability and analytic value of such an approach. Several gaps remain to be filled by continued research in architec tural energetics. Clearly we need first to conceptually refine the sys temic relationship between architectural construction and energy in a range of cultural settings. Middle-range theories linking the archi tectural remains with behavioral systems must be pursued. Ethno graphic analogues considering labor systems and sociopolitical con texts must be tested. In short, we need far more ethnography and ethnology of construction if we are to increase the analytic potential of this or any other energetic perspective and method. 76 Elliot M. Abrams In addition, if the variables of social inequality and differentiation are to have an impact on further studies of the process of cultural complexity, greater refinement of the reflection of these variables in the archaeological record is needed. The ability to identify and distin guish these related variables represents a critical element to further research. Equally important is the need to expand the data base on labor costs. Erasmus' (1965) data from northern Yucatan are excellent, and I rely on some of those data in my own calculations. Labor costs may vary considerably given different physical environments and tech nologies, however, and we must add to and refine the body of con struction labor costs. Replicative experiments, easy and relatively inexpensive to conduct, might be considered a standard part of ar chaeological field research. A compilation of labor costs sensitive to cultural and environmental variations eventually may be produced, serving as a reference for continued energetic analyses. The combined effect of expanded models and energetic data will increase archaeologists' ability to reconstruct diachronic patterns of institutional change. Architecture is a culturally important artifact, and can play a central role in such studies. Future efforts charting and then explaining the increase in cultural complexity, particularly in the context of hierarchic societies, undoubtedly will add to our un derstanding of the complexities of the process of cultural evolution. Acknowledgments I would like to thank Andrew Christenson, Richard Diehl, AnnCorinne Fr?ter, Barbara Price, William T. Sanders, Arthur Saxe, Michael Schiffer, David Webster, and Richard Yerkes for kindly and thoughtfully contributing to this paper. The Copan data were col lected during the Proyecto Arqueol?gico Copan, Phase II, which was directed by William T. Sanders and David Webster, and kindly made available by the Instituto Hondureno de Antropolog?a e Historia. All errors contained within are distinctly my own. Architecture and Energy 77 REFERENCES Aaberg, S., and f. Bonsignore 1975 A Consideration of Time and Labor Expenditure in the Construction Process at the Teotihuacan Pyramid of the Sun and the Poverty Point Mound. In Three Papers on Mesoamerican Archaeology, pp. 40-79, Contributions of the University of California Archaeological Research Facility No. 24, Berkeley. Abrams, E. 1984a Replicative Experimentation at Copan, Honduras: Implications for Ancient Economic Specialization. Journal of New World Archaeology 6(2):39-48. 1984b Systems of Labor Organization in Late Classic Copan, Honduras: The Energetics of Construction. Ph.D. dissertation, The Pennsylvania State University, University Park, Pennsylvania. 1987 Economic Specialization and Construction Personnel in Classic Period Copan, Honduras. American Antiquity 52(3):485-499. 1989 Systems of Labor Organization in Late Classic Copan, Honduras. In Pattern and Process in Ancient Mesoamerica: Essays in Honor of William T. Sanders, edited by R. Santley, J. Parsons, and R. Diehl, in press. Adams, R. McC. 1967 The Evolution of Urban Society. Aldine, Chicago. Adams, R. N. 1975 Energy and Structure: A Theory of Social Power. University of Texas Press, Austin. Arnold, J., and A. Ford 1980 A Statistical Examination of Settlement Patterns at Tikal, Guatemala. American Antiquity 45(4):713-726. Athens, J. S. 1977 Theory Building and the Study of Evolutionary Process in Complex Societies. In For Theory Building in Archaeology, edited by L. Binford, pp. 353-384. Academic Press, New York. Baudez, C. (editor) 1983 Introducci?n a la Arqueolog?a de Copan, Honduras, 3 volumes. Secretaria de Estado en el Despacho de Cultura y Turismo, Tegucigalpa. Bierbrier, M. 1982 The Tomb-Builders of the Pharaohs. British Museum, London. Braun, D. 1986 Co-evolution of Sedentism, Pottery Technology, and Horticulture in the central Midwest, 200 B.C.-A.D. 600. In 78 Elliot M. Abrams Proceedings of the Conference "Emergent Horticultural Economies of the Eastern Woodlands, " edited by W. Keegan, pp. 153-83. Southern Illinois University at Carbondale Center for Archaeological Investigations Research Series No. 7, Carbondale. Brown, J. 1985 Long-term Trends to Sedentism and the Emergence of Complexity in the American Midwest. In Prehistoric Hunter Gatherers: The Emergence of Cultural Complexity, edited by T. D. Price and J. Brown, pp. 201-231. Academic Press, New York. Brown, J., and R. Vierra 1983 What Happened in the Middle Archaic? Introduction to an Ecological Approach to Koster Site Archaeology. In Archaic Hunter and Gatherers in the American Midwest, edited by J. Phillips and J. Brown, pp. 165-196. Academic Press, New York. Callahan, E. 1981 Pumunkey Housebuilding: An Experimental Study of Late Woodland Construction Technology in the Powhatan Confederacy. Ph.D. dissertation, Catholic University, Washington, D. C. Cheek, C. 1985 Construction Activity and Sociocultural Integration at Copan. Paper presented at the 50th Annual Meeting of the Society for American Archaeology, Denver. 1986 Construction Activity as a Measurement of Change at Copan, Honduras. In The Southeast Maya Periphery, edited by P. Urban and E. Schortman, pp. 50-71. University of Texas Press, Austin. Childe, V. G. 1950 The Urban Revolution. Town Planning Review 111 :3-17. Coe, M. 1968 San Lorenzo and the Olmec Civilization. In The Dumbarton Oaks Conference on the Olmec, edited by E. Bensen, pp. 41-77. Dumbarton Oaks, Washington, D. C. Cohen, R., and E. Service (editors) 1978 Origins of the State: The Anthropology of Political Evolution. Institute for the Study of Human Issues, Philadelphia. Coles, J. 1973 Archaeology by Experiment. Hutchinson University Library, London. 1979 Experimental Archaeology. Academic Press, London. Consolazio, C, R. Johnson, and L. P?cora 1963 Physiological Measurements of Metabolic Functions in Man. McGraw-Hill, New York. Architecture and Energy 79 Cordeil, L. 1984 Southwestern Archaeology. Annual Review of Anthropology 13:301-332. Cordy, R. 1981 A Study of Prehistoric Social Change: The Development of Complex Societies in the Hawaiian Islands. Academic Press, New York. Cottrell, F. 1955 Energy and Society. McGraw-Hill, New York. Drennan, R. 1983 Ritual and Ceremonial Development at the Hunter-Gatherer Level. In The Cloud People, edited by K. Flannery and J. Marcus, pp. 30-32. Academic Press, New York. Drucker, P. 1981 On the Nature of the Olmec Polity. In The Olmec and Their Neighbors, edited by E. Bensen, pp. 29-47. Dumbarton Oaks, Washington, D. C. Durnin, J., and R. Passmore 1967 Energy, Work and Leisure. Heinemann Educational Books, London. Earle, T. 1978 Economic and Social Organization of a Complex Chief dorn: The Halelea District, Kaua'i, Hawaii. Anthropological Paper No. 63, Museum of Anthropology, University of Michigan, Ann Arbor. 1987 Chiefdoms in Archaeological and Ethnohistorical Perspective. Annual Review of Anthropology 16:279-308. Economic Commission for Asia and the Far East 1957 Manual Labor and Its More Effective Use in Competition with Machines for Earthwork in the ESCAFE region. United Nations E/CN.ll/conf. 3/L.L, Manila, Philippines. Edholm, O. G. 1967 The Biology of Work. McGraw-Hill, New York. Erasmus, C. 1965 Monument Building: Some Field Experiments. Southwestern Journal of Anthropology 21:277-301. Evans-Pritchard, E. E. 1940 The Nuer. Clarendon Press, Oxford. Flannery, K. 1972 The Cultural Evolution of Civilizations. Annual Review of Ecology and Systematics 3:399-426. Flannery, K., and J. Marcus 1976 Evolution of the Public Building in Formative Oaxaca. In 80 Elliot M. Abrams Cultural Change and Continuity, edited by C. Cleland, pp. 205 222. Academic Press, New York. Flannery, K., J. Marcus, and S. Kowalewski 1981 The Preceramic and Formative of the Valley of Oaxaca. In Archaeology, edited by J. Sabloff, Handbook of Middle American Indians Supplement 1, pp. 48-93. University of Texas Press, Austin. Fletcher, R. 1977 Settlement Studies (Micro and Semi-micro). In Spatial Archaeology, edited by D. L. Clarke, pp. 47-162. Academic Press, London. Folan, W, E. Kintz, L. Fletcher, and B. Hyde 1982 An Examination of the Settlement Patterns at Coba, Quintana Roo, Mexico, and Tikal, Guatemala: A reply to Arnold and Ford. American Antiquity 47:430-436. Fr?ter, A. 1988 The Classic Maya Collapse at Copan, Honduras: A Regional Settlement Perspective. Ph.D. dissertation, The Pennsylvania State University, University Park, Pennsylvania. Fried, M. 1967 The Evolution of Political Society. Random House, New York. 1978 The State, the Chicken, and the Egg: Or, What Came First? In Origins of the State: The Anthropology of Political Evolution, edited by R. Cohen and E. Service, pp. 35-48. Institute for the Study of Human Issues, Philadelphia. Gifford, E. 1929 Tongon Society. B. P. Bishop Museum Bulletin No. 61, Honolulu. Gilman, P. 1983 Changing Architectural Forms in the Prehistoric Southwest. Ph.D. dissertation, University of New Mexico, Albuquerque. 1987 Architecture as Artifact: Pit Structures and Pueblos in the American Southwest. American Antiquity 52(3):538-564. Goldman, I. 1970 Ancient Polynesian Society. University of Chicago Press, Chicago. Gonlin, N. 1985 The Architectural Variation of Two Small Sites in the Copan Valley, Honduras: A Rural/Urban Dichotomy! Master's thesis, The Pennsylvania State University, University Park, Pennsylvania. Gordon, G. B. 1896 Prehistoric Ruins of Copan, Honduras. Memoirs of the Peabody Architecture and Energy 81 Museum of Archaeology and Ethnology, Vol. 1, No. 1. Harvard University, Cambridge. Gregory, K. J. (editor) 1987 Energetics of Physical Environment: Energetic Approaches to Physical Geography. John Wiley & Sons, New York. Haas, J. 1982 The Evolution of the Prehistoric State. Columbia University Press, New York. Hammond, N. 1977 Ex Oriente Lux: A View from Belize. In The Origins of Maya Civilization, edited by R. E. W. Adams, pp. 45-76, University of New Mexico Press, Albuquerque. Hardesty, D. 1977 Ecological Anthropology. John Wiley & Sons, New York. Harris, M. 1968 The Rise of Anthropological Theory. Crowell, New York. Heizer, R. 1960 Agriculture and the Theocratic State in Lowland Southeast Mexico. American Antiquity 26:215-222. 1966 Ancient Heavy Transport, Methods, and Achievements. Science 153(3738):821-830. Helms, M. 1979 Ancient Panama. University of Texas Press, Austin. Hendon, J. 1987 The Uses of Maya Structures: A Study of Architecture and Artifact Distribution at Sepulturas, Copan, Honduras. Ph.D. dissertation, Harvard University, Cambridge. Henry, T. 1928 Ancient Tahiti. B. P Bishop Museum Bulletin No. 48, Honolulu. Hodder, I. 1982 Symbolic and Structural Archaeology. Cambridge University Press, Cambridge. Hunter-Anderson, R. 1977 A Theoretical Approach to the Study of House Form. In For Theory Building in Archaeology, edited by L. Binford, pp. 287 316. Academic Press, New York. Kaplan, D. 1963 Men, Monuments, and Political Systems. Southwestern Journal of Anthropology 19:397-407. Kemp, B. 1971 The Flow of Energy in a Hunting Society. Scientific American 225(3): 104-115. 82 Elliot M. Abrams Kurjack, E. 1974 Prehistoric Lowland Maya Community and Social Organization?A Case Study of Dzibilchaltun, Yucatan, Mexico. Middle American Research Institute Publication No. 38, New Orleans. Leach, E. 1983 The Gatekeepers of Heaven: Anthropological Aspects of Grandiose Architecture. Journal of Anthropological Research 39:243-264. Lightfoot, K., and G. Feinman 1982 Social Differentiation and Leadership Development in Early Pithouse Villages in the Mogoll?n Region of the American Southwest. American Antiquity 47(l):64-86. McGuire, R. 1983 Breaking Down Cultural Complexity: Inequality and Heterogeneity. In Advances in Archaeological Method and Theory, Vol. 6, edited by M. Schiffer, pp. 91-142. Academic Press, New York. McGuire, R., and M. Schiffer 1983 A Theory of Architectural Design. Journal of Anthropological Archaeology 2:277-303. Mallory, J. 1984 Late Classic Maya Economic Specialization: Evidence from the Copan Obsidian Assemblage. Ph.D. dissertation, The Pennsylvania State University, University Park, Pennsylvania. Maudslay, A. 1889- Archaeology. In Biologia Centrali-Americana (5 volumes). Porter 1902 and Dulau, London. Mill?n, R. 1976 Social Relations in Ancient Teotihuacan. In The Valley of Mexico, edited by E. Wolf. University of New Mexico Press, Albuquerque, pp. 205-248. Morgan, L. H. 1881 Houses and House-Life among the American Aborigines. University of Chicago Press, Chicago. O'Brien, M. 1987 Sedentism, Population Growth, and Resource Selection in the Woodland Midwest: A Review of Co-evolutionary Developments. Current Anthropology 28(2): 177-197. Odum, H. 1971 Environment, Power, and Society. Wiley-Interscience, New York. Architecture and Energy 83 Peebles, C, and S. Kus 1977 Some Archaeological Correlates of Ranked Society. American Antiquity 42(3):421-448. Polanyi, K. 1944 The Great Transformation. Holt, Rinehart, and Winston, New York. Polanyi, K., C. Arensberg, and H. Pearson 1957 Trade and Market in the Early Empires. Free Press, Glencoe, Illinois. Price, B. 1979 Turning State's Evidence: Problems in the Theory of State Formation. In New Directions in Political Economy: An Approach from Anthropology, edited by M. B. Leons and F. Rothstein, pp. 269-306. Greenwood Press, Westport, Connecticut. 1982 Cultural Materialism: A Theoretical Review. American Antiquity 47(4): 709-741. 1984 Competition, Productive Intensification, and Ranked Society: Speculations from Evolutionary Theory. In Warfare, Culture, and Environment, edited by B. Ferguson, pp. 209-240. Academic Press, New York. Rapoport, A. 1969 House Form and Culture. Prentice-Hall, Englewood Cliffs, New Jersey. Rappaport, R. 1968 Pigs for the Ancestors. Yale University Press, New Haven. Rathje, W. 1975 The Last Tango in Mayapan. In Ancient Civilization and Trade, edited by J. Sabloff and C. C. Lamberg-Karlovsky, pp. 409-448. University of New Mexico Press, Albuquerque. Rathje, W.; and M. Schiffer 1982 Archaeology. Harcourt Brace Jovanovich, New York. Redfield, R., and A. Villa R. 1964 Chan Kom: A Maya Village. University of Chicago Press, Chicago. Reed, N., J. Bennett, and J. Porter 1968 Solid Core Drilling of Monks Mound: Techniques and Findings. American Antiquity 33(2): 137-148. Renfrew, C. 1983 The Social Archaeology of Megalithic Monuments. Scientific American 249(5): 152-163. 84 Elliot M. Abrams 1986 Introduction: Peer Polity Interaction and Sociopolitical Change. In Peer Polity Interaction and Sociopolitical Change, edited by C. Renfrew and J. Cherry, pp. 1-18. Cambridge University Press, Cambridge. Robbins, M. 1966 House Types and Settlement Patterns: An Application of Ethnology to Archaeological Interpretation. Minnesota Archaeologist 28(l):3-26. Sahlins, M. 1972 Stone Age Economics. Aldine, Chicago. Sanders, W. 1981 Classic Maya Settlement Pattern and Ethnographic Analogy. In Lowland Maya Settlement Patterns, edited by W. Ashmore, pp. 351-370. University of New Mexico Press, Albuquerque. 1989 Household, Lineage and the State in 8th Century Copan. In House of the Bacabs, Copan: A Study of the Iconography, Epigraphy, and Social Context of a Maya Elite Structure, edited by D. Webster, Dumbarton Oaks, Washington, D. C, in press. Sanders, W. (editor) 1986 Excavaciones en el Area Urbana de Copan, Tomo 1. Instituto Hondureno de Antropolog?a e Historia, Tegucigalpa. Sanders, W, J. Parsons, and R. Santley 1979 The Basin of Mexico: Ecological Processes in the Evolution of a Civilization. Academic Press, New York. Sanders, W., and B. Price 1968 Mesoamerica: The Evolution of a Civilization. Random House, New York. Sanders, W, and R. Santley 1983 A Tale of Three Cities: Energetics and Urbanization in Pre hispanic Central Mexico. In Prehistoric Settlement Patterns, edited by E. Vogt and R. Leventhal, pp. 243-292. University of New Mexico Press, Albuquerque, and the Peabody Museum of Archaeology and Ethnology, Harvard University, Cambridge. Sanders, W, and D. Webster 1978 Unilinealism, Multilinealism, and the Evolution of Complex Societies. In Social Archaeology: Beyond Subsistence and Dating, edited by C. Redman, M. Berman, E. Curin, W. Longhorne, Jr., N. Vergassi, and J. Wanser, pp. 249-302. Academic Press, New York. Saxe, A. 1970 Social Dimensions of Mortuary Practices. Ph.D. dissertation, University of Michigan, Ann Arbor. Architecture and Energy 85 Schiffer, M. 1983 Toward the Identification of Formation Processes. American Antiquity 48(4):675-706. Service, E. 1962 Primitive Social Organization. Random House, New York. Shimada, I. 1978 Behavioral Variability and Organization in Ancient Construction: An Experimental Approach. In Papers on the Economy and Architecture of the Ancient Maya, edited by R. Sidrys, pp. 209-235. Institute of Archaeology Monograph No. 8, University of California, Los Angeles. Sidrys, R. 1978 Archaeological Measurement of the Matter-energy Flow in Mesoamerican Civilization. In Papers on the Economy and Architecture of the Ancient Maya, edited by R. Sidrys, pp. 1-39 Institute of Archaeology Monograph No. 8, University of California, Los Angeles. Skinner, S., and R. Norris 1984 Excavation of the Connett Mound 4: The Wolf Plains National Register District, The Plains, Ohio. Ohio Archaeologist 34(4):23-26. Spink, M. 1983 Metates as Socioeconomic Indicators During the Classic Period at Copan, Honduras. Ph.D. dissertation, The Pennsylvania State University, University Park, Pennsylvania. Squier, E., and E. Davis 1848 Ancient Monuments of the Mississippi Valley. Smithsonian Contributions to Knowledge No. 1, Washington, D. C. Thomas, R. B. 1973 Human Adaptation to a High Andean Energy Flow System. Occasional Papers in Anthropology No. 7, The Pennsylvania State University, University Park, Pennsylvania. Tippett, A. R. 1968 Fijian Material Culture. B. P. Bishop Museum Bulletin No. 232, Honolulu. Trik, A. 1939 Temple XXII at Copan, Contribution to American Anthropology and History Vol. 5(27):87-106, Carnegie Institution of Washington, Washington, D. C. Tuggle, H. D. 1979 Hawaii. In The Prehistory of Polynesia, edited by J. Jennings, pp. 167-199. Harvard Press, Cambridge. 86 Elliot M. Abrams Turner, E. S., N. I. Turner, and R. E. W. Adams 1981 Volumetric Assessment, Rank Ordering, and Maya Civic Centers. In Lowland Maya Settlement Patterns, edited by W. Ashmore, pp. 71-88. University of New Mexico Press, Albuquerque. Udy, S. 1959 Organization of Work. Human Relations Area File Press, New Haven. Vogt, E. 1969 Zinacantan. Belknap Press of Harvard University, Cambridge. Von Furer-Haimendorf, C. 1969 The Konyak Nagas: An Indian Frontier Tribe. Holt, Rinehart, and Winston, New York. Watson, P. J. 1978 Architectural Differentiation in Some Near Eastern Communities, Prehistoric and Contemporary. In Social Archaeology: Beyond Subsistence and Dating, edited by C. Redman, M. Berman, E. Curtin, W. Langhorne, Jr., N. Vergassi, and J. Wanser, pp. 131-158. Academic Press, New York. Webster, D. 1976 On Theocracies. American Anthropologist 78(4):812-828. Webster, D., and E. Abrams 1983 An Elite Compound at Copan, Honduras. Journal of Field Archaeology 10:285-296. Webster, D., and A. Fr?ter 1989 The Demography of Late Classic Copan. In Prehistoric Maya Demography, edited by T. P. Culbert and D. Rice, University of New Mexico Press, Albuquerque, in press. Webster, D., and N. Gonlin 1988 Household Remains of the Humblest Maya. Journal of Field Archaeology 15(2): 169-190. Webster, G. 1986 Optimization Theory and Pre-Columbian Hunting in the Tehuacan Valley. Human Ecology 14(4):415-435. Wenke, R. 1981 Explaining the Evolution of Cultural Complexity: A Review. In Advances in Archaeological Method and Theory, Vol. 4, edited by M. Schiffer, pp. 79-127. Academic Press, New York. White, L. 1943 Energy and the Evolution of Culture. American Anthropologist 45:335-356. Architecture and Energy 87 Whiting, J., and B. Ayres 1968 Inferences from the Shape of Dwellings. In Settlement Archaeology, edited by K. C. Chang, pp. 117-133. National Press, Palo Alto. Wilk, R., and W. Rathje (editors) 1982 Archaeology of the Household. American Behavioral Scientist 25(6). Willey, G., and R. Leventhal 1979 Prehistoric Settlement at Copan. In Maya Archaeology and Ethnohistory, edited by N. Hammond and G. Willey, pp. 75-102. University of Texas Press, Austin. Willey, G, R. Leventhal, and W. Fash 1978 Maya Settlement in the Copan Valley. Archaeology 31(4):32-43. Willey, G, and J. Sabloff 1974 A History of American Archaeology. Freeman, San Francisco. Willey, G, and D. Shimkin 1973 The Classic Maya Collapse: A Summary View. In The Classic Maya Collapse, edited by T. P. Culbert, pp. 457-502. University of New Mexico Press, Albuquerque. Wright, H, and G. Johnson 1975 Population, Exchange, and Early State Formation in Southwestern Iran. American Anthropologist 77:267-289. Yoffee, N. 1979 The Decline and Rise of Mesopotamian Civilization: An Ethnoarchaeological Perspective on the Evolution of Social Complexity. American Antiquity 44(l):5-35.