Words: Severine Bernard (She/Her)
Museums are often assumed to be the best vessels for the respectful preservation of the dead whilst enabling the study of human remains to continue. Yet is this a gross naivety?
On 21st of March 2025, the University of Aberdeen hosted a repatriation ceremony, commemorating the handover of the skull of a young man of Aboriginal descent to the Tasmanian Aboriginal Centre. The remains of the man, who had been murdered several hundred years earlier, were acquired by the University in 1852, and originally used as part of its medical teaching collection.
The University initially approached the TAC in 2019 after study of this artifact was deemed as no longer relevant to Aberdeen’s academic curriculum, with ‘no current or intended research’ pertaining to it, prompting the return of the skull to its ancestral lands. In response, the University was lauded for its initiative in repatriating the remains of a member of the ‘big river’ tribal group, an Indigenous community which is now completely extinct.
This incident is a fragment of a much larger debate concerning the repatriation of human remains in the UK. Museums are often assumed to be the best vessels for the respectful preservation of the dead whilst enabling the study of human remains to continue. Yet is this a gross naivety? Since Scotland’s passing of the 2006 Human Tissue Act, a clear framework for the ethical care and treatment of human remains has existed. However, these guidelines are non-statutory and consist of regulations, which, despite covering areas such as storage conditions and the question of consent, only apply to the “wet dead”, a term which refers to remains that are less than a century old. It seems as though once we’ve been dead ‘long enough’, our posthumous wishes, whether they be cremation, burial, or synthesization into diamonds, suddenly expire.
Is it more respectful to dig up and reinter bodies on site such as Richard III’s body in Leicester Cathedral or Tutankhamun’s body in Luxor, thus allowing them to be understood in their original contexts? The repatriation of the aboriginal skull would make it appear so. Or are we disrespecting the deceased’s final wishes by reversing the burial practices that people once believed would help them pass safely to the afterlife? Should we really be turning human remains into tourist attractions, as is often the case with the victims of the 79 CE eruption of Mount Vesuvius in Pompeii, where visitors frequently take selfies with the bodies?
Instead, we should perhaps categorise the display of human remains in museums as a crucial aspect of preservation, allowing future generations to interact and learn from the bodies of the past. In an interview with the Museums Association, Martin Smith outlined the arguments for and against the display of human remains, underlining that there’s a ‘third group that tends to be left out of the debate […] people who are not yet born’. Here, Smith asks if we have the right to disband current collections and potentially be complicit in the erosion of histories that future generations could learn from. Preservation ethics are more transient and flexible than many would care to admit. Think of Arthur Evans’ 20th century restoration of the Minoan palace at Knossos, where he restored the palace using inauthentic materials like concrete. Initially highly controversial, the palace is now the second most popular tourist attraction in Greece, raking in millions in tourism revenue and keeping the mysticism of the ancient world alive.
Moreover, there is some flexibility to current definitions of human remains. In their 2021 Human Remains Policy, The Hunterian Museum classes hair and nails as part of their human remains collection, despite these being omitted from the Human Tissue Act. Artefactual human remains are also a matter of concern. That is, remains which have been incorporated into artefacts, i.e. cups made from human skulls or clubs inlaid with human teeth. Current policy is to signpost these as remains in the same manner as bone fragments and ashes. However, this policy has not been broadly adopted across the UK.
Whether you see death as the ultimate ending, or a catalyst for the transition to the afterlife, it is clear that the museological stance towards human remains is still murky. Scottish University Museums like Aberdeen and The Hunterian appear to be making positive and progressive steps towards issues surrounding respectful display and repatriation compared to their English counterparts. However, there’s centuries of embedded colonisation to undo, and a severe lack of legislation concerning methods of preservation which have come to the forefront in recent years, such as cremation or cryogenics.
Ultimately, if it’s through restoring human remains to their original resting places, prohibiting photography in exhibition spaces, or simply warning visitors of the disturbing impact they may have, museum visitors should be reminded that whether it’s underneath the skin or beneath the glass case in front of them, our bones are all the same. Therefore, what we choose to do with them matters.
