The Ethical Crisis Transforming Our Collections
In a quiet corner of a renowned museum, a simple cardboard box sits on a shelf. Inside are the bones of children killed in a tragic bombing. For decades, they've waited for burial, their humanity forgotten by science. This is the complex legacy museums now face.
Walk through any major natural history museum, and you'll encounter bones—skeletons standing tall in dramatic poses, skulls lined up in neat rows, mummies resting in climate-controlled cases. For centuries, these remains were collected as scientific objects, their display rarely questioned. Yet beneath the glass lies a deep ethical crisis now shaking museums to their core. A combination of new laws, shifting public attitudes, and long-overdue recognition of historical injustices is forcing a dramatic reckoning with how institutions handle human remains. Museums find themselves caught between scientific pursuit and human dignity, between colonial legacy and contemporary ethics. 1
The story of human remains in museums begins with what scholars call the "bone rush" of the 19th and early 20th centuries. Starting around the Civil War and stretching deep into the 20th century, gathering human skeletal remains became a common intellectual, cultural, and social pursuit 8 . Museums concerned with natural history, medicine, and anthropology—in their quest to solve riddles connected to race and human history—turned to human remains for answers. 8
Medical doctors, anthropologists, and other scientists on both sides of the Atlantic came to believe that perceived behavioral attributes of different peoples—such as intelligence and industriousness—could be directly correlated with physical characteristics, such as the size and shape of the skull 8 . This pseudoscientific racism fueled collecting practices that often suspended or displaced codes of ethical behavior 8 .
500,000
Native American remains in U.S. museums
500,000+
Additional Native American remains in European museums since 19th century
116,000
Sets of "culturally unaffiliated" human remains in U.S. museums
The pivotal moment in this history came in 1990 with the passage of the Native American Graves Protection and Repatriation Act (NAGPRA). This federal law required institutions receiving federal funding to repatriate Native American cultural items, including human remains and sacred objects, to lineal descendants and culturally affiliated tribes 4 .
For decades, however, the law's effectiveness was limited. Then, on January 12, 2024, updated NAGPRA regulations went into effect, imposing strict deadlines for museums to repatriate objects to federally recognized tribes 4 . The impact was immediate and visible. Prominent institutions like the American Museum of Natural History abruptly closed entire halls—the Hall of the Great Plains and the Hall of the Eastern Woodlands—that displayed Indigenous artifacts and remains 4 .
The updated law, however, has significant limitations that continue to draw criticism. It only mandates repatriation to the 574 federally recognized tribes, excluding non-federally recognized Indigenous groups 4 . This creates impossible situations for people like Justin McCarthy, a graduate student of Yup'ik Eskimo and Sámi heritage. The Sámi, an Indigenous group from Scandinavia, are not federally recognized in the United States, leaving McCarthy with no legal way to claim the brain of his grandmother's cousin, which was sent to the Smithsonian for scientific study 4 .
Required repatriation of Native American human remains and cultural items by federally-funded institutions. Limited implementation for decades.
Imposed strict deadlines for repatriation to federally recognized tribes. Prompted immediate closure of exhibits containing contested items.
Terminated diversity, equity and inclusion initiatives across federal institutions. Led to dismantling of Smithsonian and National Gallery DEI programs. 1
Forensic anthropology provides powerful tools for extracting information from bones. This special subfield of physical anthropology applies skeletal analysis and archaeological techniques to solve mysteries from both the distant past and recent history 3 .
A forensic anthropologist can read the evidence in a skeleton like you read a book 3 . The techniques they use include:
Examining bones to determine age, sex, ancestry, and stature. Identifying characteristics of unknown remains.
Providing detailed information about remains without altering them. Studying mummified remains without unwrapping.
Using isotopes to provide information about the age of bones and a person's diet. Tracing migration patterns in ancient populations.
Helping establish identity, particularly in modern cases. Connecting remains to living descendants.
One compelling example of forensic anthropology in action comes from historic Jamestown. Smithsonian anthropologist Dr. Douglas Owsley examined a skeleton from the early colonial settlement and discovered clear evidence of chops to the skull from an axe or other sharp-bladed implement 3 . Knife cuts were also observed on the bone.
These findings, combined with other biological indicators and the discovery location of the remains, led Owsley to a startling conclusion: a 14-year-old girl had been cannibalized after she died 3 . This discovery supported other historic data indicating that the colonists of Jamestown suffered severe starvation during the harsh winter of 1609-1610.
In 1985, the city of Philadelphia dropped a bomb on the MOVE organization's compound, killing six adults and five children and destroying an entire city block 9 . In the aftermath, remains thought to be from two children—14-year-old Tree and 12-year-old Delisha—ended up at the University of Pennsylvania Museum of Archaeology and Anthropology 9 .
Decades later, they were discovered not in climate-controlled storage appropriate for human remains, but in a cardboard box on a shelf 9 . Even more disturbingly, the bones had been used in a public online forensics course, with a curator and student prodding them before the camera "like chipper science teachers" 9 .
"They were bombed, and burned alive, and now you wanna keep their bones."
The ethical challenges surrounding human remains in museums extend far beyond the United States. In Germany, the Übersee-Museum in Bremen removed shrunken heads from South America from display when Wiebke Ahrndt became director over 20 years ago . She felt they were displayed without explanation or respect for their sensitivity, existing merely for spectacle .
Similarly, the Pitt Rivers Museum in Oxford, UK, removed 120 human remains from display in 2020, including South American tsantsa (shrunken heads) . The museum explained that "the way they were displayed did not sufficiently help visitors understand the cultural practices related to their making and instead led people to think in stereotypical and racist ways about Shuar culture."
| Museum | Controversy | Response | Outcome |
|---|---|---|---|
| University of Pennsylvania Museum | Holding MOVE bombing victims' remains | Pledged to reassess practices after public outcry | Highlighted need for consistent ethical standards |
| American Museum of Natural History | Display of Indigenous remains | Closed Halls of Eastern Woodlands and Great Plains after updated NAGPRA | Visible impact of 2024 regulations |
| Übersee-Museum, Bremen | Display of shrunken heads | Removed sensitive human remains from display | No negative impact on visitor numbers or funding |
| Pitt Rivers Museum, Oxford | Display of shrunken heads | Removed 120 human remains from display | Aimed to prevent stereotypical understanding |
The question of whether museums should ever display or retain human remains lacks simple answers. Some argue for complete repatriation of all remains, while others point to legitimate scientific benefits. London's Natural History Museum maintains that "skeletal analyses can help to improve the identification techniques used by forensic anthropologists," and that "chemical signatures of bones and teeth can help to shed light on past population movements."
Yet even when scientific value is acknowledged, the ethical calculus has shifted dramatically. As Lewis McNaught, editor of Returning Heritage, notes: "It's really now common practice to review and consider returning human remains." This is particularly true in Western countries that are "far more exposed because of the scale of the looting and removal of human remains that occurred in the past."
In response to these challenges, many archaeologists and museums are adopting more collaborative approaches. The field of community-based archaeology, pioneered by scholars like Sonya Atalay, prioritizes working with, by, and for Indigenous and local communities connected to archaeological sites 4 . This approach seeks to decolonize the field and move it beyond what some describe as an age of "glorified looting." 4
Innovative educational tools are also emerging. Archaeologist John Swogger has created comic books to explain NAGPRA and repatriation, working directly with Indigenous communities to tell these complex stories in accessible ways 4 . The first comic, "Journeys to Complete the Work," was published in 2017 with a free PDF available online, while subsequent volumes are released at the discretion of the Indigenous communities that participated in their creation 4 .
As museums navigate this complex landscape, they face competing pressures from lawmakers, descendant communities, scientists, and the public. Recent executive orders targeting diversity, equity, and inclusion initiatives have further complicated matters, with institutions like the Smithsonian and National Gallery of Art dismantling their DEI programs in response to federal directives 1 .
The essential tension remains: How can museums balance their research and educational missions with their ethical responsibilities? The answer likely lies in recognizing that human remains are not merely scientific specimens but represent people who had lives, families, and communities that continue to care about their treatment.
As Edward Halealoha Ayau, who has advocated for repatriation of Native Hawaiian ancestors for 35 years, observes: "There's been a maturity of views with regard to human remains." This maturity may ultimately lead to a new paradigm for museums—one where human dignity takes precedence over scientific curiosity, and where the stories behind the bones are told with respect rather than reverence for display.