Archaeologists have mostly ignored this growing body of uninterpreted evidence, and much information about the prehistoric built environment has been lost in the thousands of unregarded postholes tucked away in reports as ‘unphased’ and others in archives completely unreported. This is where the evidence is to be found, but it is quite complex, and difficult to analyse, and it is little wonder archaeology made up a simpler story that was easier to understand.
Many archaeological researchers, authors, and teachers, may have not been involved at this sharp end of decision making in writing archaeological reports, and may fail to grasp its significance. The subsequent layers of academic synthesis usually fail to reflect or engage with the doubt, or bias, in the data presented in the report. For an ‘academic’ whose learning comes from reading, the failure of many postholes to make a significant appearance in the peer reviewed literature means, for all intents and purposes, that they do not exist.
For over sixty years archaeology chose to ignore this aspect of the evidence for the built environment, and invested heavily, in terms of both physical reconstruction and intellectual capital, in a concept of life lived in the dark around a central fire of a one roomed roundhouse, in a world whose ‘simplicity’ is compensated by a rich spiritual and ritual life, now elucidated in surprising detail by many archaeologists.
There has been a failure to engage with prehistoric building as a technology, and the need for a robust built environment, something we take for granted, is overlooked, disconnecting the ancient past from traditional timber building, one of most important and significant components of the material culture of England.
However, what is so extraordinary about timber circles is that the posts are all positioned in the most appropriate places to support a roof using Neolithic technology. Yet it is so typical of our ‘primitive’ ancestors that they could not conceive of putting a roof on top of the posts, or imagined the advantages of a communal life conducted in the warm and dry!
It doesn’t have to be this way!
If postholes are viewed as structural foundations, building as a technology, and the people who made them as builders, we might just be able to imagine a more appropriate and practical built environment for prehistory. These are important considerations when we return to the real problem: how to detect and recognise the remains of posthole buildings and structures that you don’t yet know to exist?
While it is important to keep this long-term goal in mind, we must start with the basics: What is a posthole?
Posts are all about vertical loading, because it is only when perpendicular to the earth surface, aligned with the Earth’s gravitational field, that posts will work properly. The simple and intuitive notions of ‘perpendicular’, ‘level’, and ‘true’ are absolutely essential attributes for any successful earthbound structure. Once a post or structure starts to go ‘out of true’ or leans, collapse may not be far off. The rigidity and design of the timber structure will ensure that, whatever forces are applied to the post, it is not pushed over and remains vertical.
A posthole represents civil engineering just as much as a piece of stone wall, or a brick pier, and has a ‘supply chain’ of equal complexity. The post itself started out as a tree, probably grown specifically for this purpose, and may have taken more than one generation to produce. This tree was cut down and trimmed to size, and a timber weighing several hundred kilos was extracted from woodland and transported to site. The post may have been charred at the base to resist rotting. Then it would have been measured and cut to a precise length, with a tenon formed at the top, before being placed in a pit of a particular depth and joined with the rest of the structure. This logistical chain may contain two generations of woodmen, carters, labourers, carpenters, and most importantly, someone to decide the size of the post and the location of the posthole -- an architect.
F42 is a posthole about 0.5m wide and 0.65m deep, cut into gravel subsoil. It has a ‘post pipe’ that is the impression left in the soil by the post, either as the result its rotting in situ or by fresh soil having filled the void left by removal of the post. The original post was about 0.3m in diameter and would probably have been oak, a ubiquitous tree and the best native species for posts. We can consult the appropriate tables for English oaks growing in this environment; this suggests that the original tree was about 60 years old and roughly 23m tall . About 10m of the trunk was probably usable and it would have weighed approximately 250 kilos.
If the figure of one post per 10-12 m2 of floor space is accepted as representing the safe limit for prehistoric builders, then ignoring scores or even hundreds of postholes, as many reports do, has an tremendous potential to upset any interpretation that may have been put on the built environment.
Of course, F42 may have held a post representing the spirit of somebody’s late great-aunt Sally, or a even of a god, and may have been something to worship, make offerings to, or dance around; the choice is yours -- it’s all a question of belief.
References and further reading:
 From Alexander Pope: An Essay on Man. As reproduced in Poetical Works, H. F. Cary, ed.: London: Routledge, 1870, 225-226: “Know then thyself, presume not God to scan; The proper study of Mankind is Man.”
 This reference is to J. Collis, 1977: “The proper study of mankind is pots”, in The Iron Age in Britain: a review. Sheffield University Press
 J.V.S. Magaw & D.D.A. Simpson, 1979: Introduction to British Prehistory. Leicester University Press. Fig. 7.12; & G. J. Wainwright, 1979: Gussage All Saints: an Iron Age settlement in Dorset. Dept of Environment, Archaeological reports No 10
 A good general account of the ”Stonehenge ritual landscape” can be found in F. Pryor, 2004: Britain BC: Life in Britain and Ireland Before the Romans. Harper Perennial. pp. 235–238
 N. J. James, The foresters companion 1982, 3rd ed. Oxford, Basil Blackwell. pp. 355.