A groundbreaking archaeological study reveals humanity’s profound impact on animal body sizes across millennia. Researchers have uncovered evidence showing how human activities deliberately enlarged domestic animals while simultaneously shrinking wild species over the past thousand years.

Scientists from the University of Montpellier examined over 225,000 animal bones from 311 archaeological sites across Mediterranean France, spanning an unprecedented 8,000-year timeline. The study, published in the  Proceedings of the National Academy of Sciences, demonstrates a dramatic shift in animal evolution beginning around 1,000 years ago during the Middle Ages.

For most of human history, wild and domestic animals evolved in sync with natural forces like climate and vegetation. However, the medieval period marked a turning point when human selection became the dominant evolutionary driver. Domestic animals were systematically bred for larger sizes to produce more meat, milk, wool, and labor power.

Medieval Revolution in Animal Selection

During the Middle Ages, agricultural practices transformed dramatically. Farmers began deliberately selecting the largest animals for breeding, creating a controlled evolutionary process that favored size over generations. This selective breeding resulted in progressively larger cattle, sheep, goats, pigs, and chickens compared to their wild ancestors.

The researchers found that domestic animals increased in body mass as humans prioritized productivity. Medieval farmers understood that larger animals provided greater economic returns through increased meat production, higher milk yields, and superior work capacity for agricultural tasks.

Meanwhile, wild animals faced the opposite evolutionary pressure. Human hunting activities and habitat destruction forced wild species like foxes, rabbits, deer, and wild boar to adapt by becoming smaller. Reduced body size became advantageous for survival in increasingly fragmented habitats with limited resources.

Diachronic trends in animal sizes. (Mureau et al./PNAS)

Archaeological Evidence Reveals Evolutionary Patterns

The comprehensive bone analysis revealed precise measurements of animal dimensions across centuries. Researchers examined length, width, depth, and dental characteristics to track morphological changes over time. They incorporated climate data, vegetation patterns, human population density, and land use information to understand the complex factors influencing animal evolution.

The study’s authors explained that “natural selection prevailed as an evolutionary force on domestic animal morphology until the last millennium.” Body size serves as a sensitive indicator of systemic environmental and social changes, revealing both resilience and vulnerability in evolving human-animal-environment relationships.

Archaeological evidence from Mediterranean France provides a unique window into this evolutionary transformation. The region’s rich archaeological record allows scientists to trace continuous changes in animal morphology across millennia, offering insights into how human activities fundamentally altered the evolutionary trajectories of both wild and domestic species.

Sheep have been domesticated by humans for millennia. (CC BY-SA 2.0)

Modern Implications for Conservation

This research extends beyond historical curiosity, offering crucial insights for contemporary conservation efforts. Understanding how animals respond to human pressure through morphological changes provides early warning systems for modern conservation strategies. Decreasing body size in wild populations can signal environmental stress before population crashes occur.

The study demonstrates that human influence on animal evolution accelerated dramatically over the past millennium. Modern industrial agriculture, urbanization, and climate change represent intensified versions of medieval pressures that originally drove divergent evolutionary paths between domestic and wild animals.

Wild fox representing species that have become smaller due to human pressures. (CC BY-SA 2.0)

Contemporary conservation biologists can use these findings to identify species at risk. Monitoring body size changes in wild populations provides an early detection method for environmental degradation and habitat fragmentation. The research suggests that human impact on animal evolution continues accelerating, making historical perspectives increasingly valuable for predicting future changes.

The study’s implications extend to understanding how rapid environmental changes affect species adaptation. As climate change and human encroachment intensify, the lessons learned from 8,000 years of human-animal coevolution become essential for developing effective protection strategies for vulnerable wildlife populations.

Imagine organizing a festival so massive that people would drive livestock hundreds of miles to attend – without roads, GPS, or even the wheel. This isn’t mere fantasy, this was actually happening 3,000 years ago.

New archaeological evidence reveals that Bronze Age Britain hosted some of the most sophisticated social gatherings in ancient history – mega-festivals that connected communities from Scotland to Cornwall in an intricate web of feasting, trade, and social bonding that rivals our modern festival circuits.

Picture this: Massive crowds gathering near sacred sites like Stonehenge, with herds of cattle, pigs, and sheep streaming in from distant lands. The aroma of roasting meat filling the air as communities that rarely saw each other came together to feast, trade stories, and forge alliances. These weren’t simple village get-togethers, they were logistical marvels that left behind garbage dumps the size of football stadiums, packed with millions of bone fragments that still tell their story today.

What drove ancient Britons to orchestrate such ambitious gatherings? And how did they manage to coordinate livestock movements across vast distances using Bronze Age technology? Revolutionary scientific techniques are finally unlocking these ancient mysteries, revealing a level of social organization that challenges everything we thought we knew about prehistoric Britain.

The answers lie buried in six massive prehistoric “middens” found at ancient party sites that became permanent monuments to humanity’s earliest festival culture…

Exploring Avebury – Voices of Ancestors, with Steve Marshall. Recorded Webinar, from the Ancient Origins Store.

It was 1980. I took my 1972 Datsun 240Z to a nearby shop because it overheated on its trip to a specialist Z-car center. The plan was to completely overhaul the drive train, put in a new interior, and get a new paint job. I’d chosen to refurbish my beloved Z instead of getting a new car. I had the $$ in the bank, just needed to drop it off 25 miles away.

I told the “emergency” shop to do the minimum so I could limp the car to its destination. Hopefully just a new radiator cap. “Sure thing, boss!” was the reply. “We’ll call you when it’s ready.”

Two days go by, no word. Day three I call and hear a lot of paper shuffling then, “Oh, it’s been ready – we were just waiting for you to call. Come on by!” Mentally I compared them to sphincters, but kept it polite.

At the “service” center I checked in, then waited and watched the quiet chaos behind the desk. Minutes flew by as person after person had whispered conversations. I could see the issue go up the chain of command by how each was better dressed than the last. Finally they deigned to speak to me.

”We had a break-in day before yesterday, and the thieves took all our records. They stole the paperwork to register cars and took the best toolsets. They knew where everything was. But we lost your service order and had to search. Sorry for the wait! Here’s what we did.” Then he proceeded to read a laundry list of crap from an invoice, culminating with a $350 charge.

“Fine” I said through clenched teeth. “Just let me see my car.” I wanted to check the parts they replaced. Good thing, too!

”Just a minute and I’ll bring it out.” A minute?! More like 15 minutes! More whispered conversations behind the counter. Finally I am told, “We can’t find your car or the keys. The thieves took some cars from the shop; they must have taken yours too.”

Without waiting a beat, they carried on with my answer to this Quora question. “Do you still want to pay for the repairs?” I was fuming! But I’m terrible at verbal conflicts so the best I could do was, “Can you prove you did anything?”

That’s the story. Some employee(s) ripped off their shop and stole my car – it was clearly an inside job. I filed a police report, got an insurance settlement for a pittance, and two weeks later the cops told me they found the car wrapped around a telephone pole. 120% totaled. In an unChristian moment, I hoped they broke their legs. But life goes on.

Revolutionary Study Uncovers Ancient Food Networks

A comprehensive study by Cardiff University archaeologists has analyzed animal remains from six massive prehistoric rubbish heaps called middens across Wiltshire and the Thames Valley. Using cutting-edge multi-isotope analysis on 254 animal samples, researchers discovered that Bronze Age communities transported livestock over vast distances to participate in communal feasts between 900-500 BC. This represents the largest multi-isotope faunal study ever conducted in archaeology.

Collected feasting debris of pottery and bone from Bronze Age middens of East Chisenbury. (Cardiff University/Richard Madgwick)

The research, published in the journal  iScience, demonstrates that these gatherings were “arguably the largest to take place in Britain until the medieval period,” according to lead researcher Dr. Carmen Esposito from the University of Bologna. The middens, enormous mounds of feasting debris, became permanent features in the British landscape with some reaching the size of five football pitches.

East Chisenbury midden (rubbish pile) under excavation. (Cardiff University)

Different Sites, Different Specialties

The study revealed that each midden site had distinct characteristics and roles within the broader feasting network. At Potterne in Wiltshire, pork dominated the menu with pigs transported from as far as northern England, Wales, Cornwall, and Devon. This massive site contains up to 15 million bone fragments, making it one of the most artifact-rich middens in England.

In contrast, East Chisenbury, located just 10 miles from Stonehenge, specialized in sheep with most animals sourced locally. This suggests a more conservative approach focused on intensive local production. The Thames Valley site of Runnymede in Surrey favored cattle, with animals arriving from Wales and southwestern England.

• Study Finds Huge Undetected Migration Wave to Prehistoric Britain
• Britain’s Pompeii – Reveals Bronze Age Lifestyle of ‘Cosy Domesticity’

Sheep remains found at East Chisenbury suggest mutton was the preferred meat at that feasting area. (Cardiff University/Richard Madgwick)

Climate Crisis Sparked Social Innovation

Professor Richard Madgwick from Cardiff University’s School of History, Archaeology and Religion suggests these massive feasting events emerged in response to climatic and economic instability at the end of the Bronze Age. “At a time of climatic and economic instability, people in southern Britain turned to feasting,” he explained to  The Guardian.

The period between 900-500 BC was marked by increasingly wet conditions and the declining value of bronze as iron technology emerged. These challenges prompted communities to develop new social and economic strategies centered on massive communal gatherings. Madgwick believes these events played, “a really important role in creating some degree of community cohesion at a time of trouble.”

Scientists used cutting-edge multi-isotope analysis for the study. (Cardiff University/Richard Madgwick)

Revolutionary Scientific Methods Reveal Ancient Movements

The breakthrough findings were made possible through multi-isotope analysis, a rapidly developing archaeological technique. Each geographical region has distinct chemical signatures that permeate local water and food sources. As animals consume these resources, regional markers become locked in their bones, allowing researchers to trace their origins centuries later. The study examined strontium, oxygen, sulfur, carbon, and nitrogen isotopes to create detailed profiles of animal movements and management practices.

This comprehensive approach revealed that Bronze Age Britain had remarkably sophisticated logistics networks. The evidence suggests waterways played crucial roles in transporting livestock, as all middens were located near rivers. Some animals traveled from Scotland to southern England, representing journeys of hundreds of miles with live cattle and pigs – a massive undertaking requiring considerable planning and resources.

Creamy Chicken Dijon

Here is another great chicken recipe which I make quite a bit. It is very delicious with a wonderful taste.

Ingredients

• 4 skinless, boneless chicken breasts
• 3 tablespoons butter
• 2 tablespoons all-purpose flour
• 1 cup chicken broth
• 1/2 cup Half-and-Half (I use heavy cream for a richer sauce)
• 2 tablespoons Dijon-style prepared mustard

Instructions

1. Heat oven to 150 degrees F.
2. In a large skillet, brown chicken in butter for about 15 to 20 minutes or until cooked through and juices run clear.
3. Remove from skillet and place on a warm oven-proof platter.
4. Stir flour into skillet drippings.
5. Add broth and deglaze skillet by stirring vigorously until flour is somewhat dissolved and liquid has the consistency of a sauce.
6. Add cream mixing well to combine. Simmer, stirring, over moderate heat for about 10 minutes until sauce is a little thick.
7. Stir in mustard and heat through.
8. Pour mustard sauce over chicken breasts.
9. Place platter in warm preheated oven for about 10 to 15 minutes, until heated through.

A paradox.

The stars are difficult to read, for sure. The horoscopes in the newspaper are wishy-washy nonsense written by lowly paid interns who do not have an inkling of physics or differential equations—you would not expect someone to be able to predict the weather without a doctorate and a powerful computer, would you? This is no different.

As a mathemastrologer, I can see the strings with which the cosmic puppeteers ordain our every move. I can follow their course, untangle their knots. This is how I have been able to read my own future for the past ten years. I knew prior to conception that I would become pregnant, and that it would be a boy. I saw my mother’s death in the conjunction of Saturn and Venus, right before a car accident plucked her out of the numbers of the living.

One month ago, I read the death of my six year old son in the firmament.

As unwavering as it used to be, my faith was shaken.

In astrology, but I suppose this is true of other disciplines, you get attached to the objects of your work. You come to love the intricate play of the planets with your own fate, the way that your mood ebbs in sync with Neptune’s tempests or gets lifted by the tides. I was married to the cosmos—but that day, the idyll was shattered. The cosmos had betrayed my trust. It had been difficult to accept my mother’s death, to see it coming without interfering, but I had told myself that this moment comes for everyone. This, though, I could not abide. It was too cruel. Dear little Patrick, the star around which my life revolved, could not be extinguished, not now, not ever. I would rather do without the rest of the universe.

I started to believe in free will. Not out of logic, but out of necessity. There had to be a way to save him.

I poured myself in calculations, poured my life savings into computing power, sat night and day at my desk to find out precisely how and when Patrick would die. “He will drown in the pool,” the stars said. Very well—I drained the pool. But fighting fate was like trying to contain water within a sieve: if you plugged one hole, the water would simply drip from another. Still, I thought, there was a finite number of them: could I not plug all holes? I had to be strong, clever, steady, relentless, exhaustive. How was Patrick going to die, now that the pool was empty? Drown in the bathtub? I locked the bathroom. Drown in a friend’s pool? Let’s not go to their place, then. Drown in the lake? Let’s not go to the lake. Soon enough, there remained no possibility of drowning.

The firmament still wanted Patrick’s soul to rise up into its clutches, though. Fall down the stairs? I confined him to the first floor. Choke on food? I blended it into puree. The star map became more and more erratic in its dogged attempts to murder my child, threatening anything from an exploding oven (let’s not cook) to plague rats (they cannot bite through five inches of padding). The signs became more and more numerous, culminating into a singularity at midnight when the dangers would number into the millions. After that, I could not tell, but I was determined to find out. I would fight off an infinite number of threats for Patrick’s sake. At midnight, he would be alive and I would have asserted my free will, in defiance of the cosmos.

Six hours before midnight, someone banged at my door, insistently. I tried my best to ignore it, but I saw it was my colleague Olaf, the most brilliant mathemastrologer I knew, and a small part of my mind wanted to hear him out. I opened up a sliver.

“What is it?”

“Sonia,” he said, wringing his hands nervously, “whatever you are doing, please stop.”

“Stop what?”

“Stop, uh… You cannot save him. It is Written.”

“No,” I sneered. “I am his mother. Do not tell me what I can or cannot do.”

I stared him down. Blessedly, the stars foresaw no harm would come to me, which meant that he could not force his way in or do anything rash to stop me, lest he violated the celestial plan to the same degree that I was going to. I felt like a chess Grandmaster.

“Please, Sonia, please,” he pleaded, literally falling to his knees as he did so. “You have no idea what forces you are meddling with.”

I knew exactly what forces I was meddling with. I was meddling with the Sun (330,000 Earths), with Saturn (95 Earths), with Jupiter (318 Earths). If their combined masses couldn’t stop me, that was their problem, not mine. I did what I had to do: I slammed the door in his face.

“Free will exists, Olaf,” I yelled through the wood for his edification, “and I will prove it.”

I spent the next five hours moving furniture as Patrick was asleep on the couch, always in plain view and sedated for his own good. I boarded and caulked every single opening I could see. When there was only one hour left before midnight, as indicated by at least five different clocks, I locked ourselves up into the basement and waited for the singularity to come past.

Time passed like molasses through the hourglass—but it did pass. Thirty minutes left before midnight. Fifteen minutes. Beads of sweat accumulated on my brow. Ten. Five. Three. I got up briefly to stretch my sleeping legs, and right at that moment something erupted from the cabinet next to me, which I could have sworn I had checked. Olaf jumped out. Olaf, the valiant defender of the stars, had somehow found a way in and he held a butcher knife in his hands. He fell heavily on the bundle I was ostensibly protecting, preternaturally quickly, so that I had no time to react. He stabbed the bundle over and over and over again. I screamed.

Olaf stopped as suddenly as he had started. There was no blood on the knife. The bundle was empty. He turned to me, but I was already gone, frantically pulling out the nails on the board I had used to condemn the door leading to the stairs.

“Sonia,” he said, apologetically although his efforts had been unnecessary. “The universe…”

I was already out and running like a headless chicken in the house. Thirty seconds left on the clock. Then, I howled. Olaf ran to me and saw me kneeling in front of the bathroom door, under which a red liquid was seeping. Thirty seconds.

“Get out,” I said between my teeth. “Get out!”

“The universe has spoken!” he shouted as the knife clattered to the ground. Ten seconds left. Five. Two. One. I was finally alone. I turned the handle and swung the door open. Zero.

At last I let my face regain its composure. On the ground, ketchup was running out of a dish propped up by melting ice. My vaudeville had worked, at least part of it. It was past midnight, now, so what was done was done. Hoping that the stars also bought my gambit, I walked to the attic and unboarded the small dormer window that gave onto the roof.

“Patrick?” I said.

“Mom?” he answered.

I clambered down to the slanted roof. Yes, I had left Patrick on the roof, all alone, with no way out but the ground. No, I was not crazy. Even as it attempted to murder a child, the cosmos still expected his mother to protect him. The very idea that she would willfully leave him unattended in a dangerous place was so strange, so improbable that it lied in an uncharted area of the calculations. The million dangers I foresaw in the singularity were all concentrated into the safest nooks of the house, and so I put all of my chips in the one place that I could not read. I was thrilled to savor my victory—not content with being a Grandmaster, I was now the Champion. I smothered my son in kisses. Even as I did so, he asked, in a confused voice:

“Mom, where’s Jupiter?”

I followed his gaze to the spot where Jupiter had to be, as surely as the sun rises in the East (I had taught him well). The sky at that location was black. The eeriness overpowered me for a moment, and then it sank in: everything is connected. I realized that what was impossible, was obvious: if our fate was linked to the orbits of the celestial bodies by all of these invisible threads, was their fate not itself linked to our own actions?

I ran down to my office and frantically ran calculations to get the answer to the question I should have asked at the very start: in a world where Patrick had survived the twelve strokes of midnight, where was Jupiter? To my dismay, I found only one, singular solution: in order to save my child, Jupiter had to take a completely different orbit, an orbit that went as close to Earth as… as close to Earth as the Moon did.

Rumors came to my ears from the outside. Shouts, howls, tearful cries, the noise of chaos and despair. I went out to see. On the horizon in the East, a gargantuan white crescent was rising, so large that it was soon to take over the entire sky. I felt its tide, so strong that it pulled my entire body towards it. I do not need math to know that Patrick is doomed after all. So am I. So are we all.

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