I am delighted to contribute this career piece, although there are many other aged physical anthropologists who are more distinguished! I have tried to avoid duplicating another retrospective rumination ( Jolly 2009) while describing personal academic experiences over the past 60 years or so. This is not a CV; I have concentrated on my main research themes, omitting some academic byways, teaching, textbooks, and edited volumes. The account is punctuated with opinionated comments, mostly on physical anthropology, but sometimes, rashly, on other anthropological specialties. It begins early, because my professional interests have deep roots, and finishes with a speculation about the future of physical anthropology, and anthropology in general, in the coming genomic age.
BONES, BLOOD, AND BABOONSA career's evolution, like that of a species, is a combination of heritage, adaptation, and luck. I sometimes wonder if my thinking was molded in infancy by Beatrix Potter, whose wonderfully delineated rabbits, mice, and foxes are at once true to their species and also recognizable human characters. Perhaps Mr. Tod and Squirrel Nutkin instilled the propensity to blur the line between the human and nonhuman, and see the continuities and commonalities among species, that underlies the evolutionary worldview. Be that as it may, I cannot remember a time when natural history was not a consuming interest. I grew up with access to a biologically rich estuarine shore and countryside not yet totally disfigured by housing estates and golf courses. Unpolluted ponds held newts and sticklebacks that were fair game for an urchin with a homemade net to take home and observe in improvised aquaria. London was also accessible, offering museums and, especially, the Zoo. Mandrills and lemurs, Piltdown Man, and "Ginger," the British Museum's predynastic mummy, became old friends of mine. I have two other very early memories. One is of a documentary sponsored by the South African government, presumably to stimulate British immigration. The political message was lost on an eight-year-old, but the traditional Bantu dancers ignited an indelible curiosity about other cultures, especially African. The other memory concerns a story written by Louis Leakey and illustrated by Mary Leakey, which featured a lively bunch of prehistoric humans hunting giant baboons in Kenya (Leakey 1950).In high school, I experienced very little hard science and no formal biology. These I do not miss, but I have often regretted my ignorance of mathematics beyond elementary algebra. One unforgettable influence was my first form history master, who, firmly rejecting a syllabus beginning in 1066, introduced us to prehistory and human evolution. He illustrated his lessons with stone tools personally collected in France and England. Some of these doubtless originated from fouilles interdites, but the inspiration of generations of 11-year-olds surely excused it. Happily lacking either aptitude or enthusiasm for sports, I spent weekends with like-minded friends: bird-watch...