Examining the underlying code and algorithms, understanding the functions, interfaces, and assumptions underlying the software, and probing the structuring principles and creative processes behind the artefact leads inexorably to the fourth component in understanding the digital cognitive artefact: its subsequent context of use.

'… what functions it offers to create, share, reuse, mix, create, manage, share and communicate content, the interfaces used to present these functions, and assumptions and models about a user, his/her needs, and society encoded in these functions and their interface design.' (Manovich 2013, 29 – emphasis in original).

Approaching a software package as a cognitive artefact in its own right offers the prospect of achieving a closer appreciation of the ways in which the software subtly holds us at arm's length amidst an illusion of transparency.

Our application of a computer is therefore effectively a collaborative venture, whether we realise it or not, combining human and algorithmic agency in a complex web of interrelationships that remain largely unseen and seemingly impenetrable

Everything we do with our digital devices is underpinned by software driven by innumerable algorithms, which are frequently characterised as invisible, black boxes.

In online advertising, such things are measurement by ‘engagement’ or click-bait. Indeed, ‘clickbait archaeology’ (see e.g., this thread by Erin Thompson) can be considered archaeology done - or promoted - with the express purpose of monetizing outrage in some register because people are more likely to click on negatively or outrageously framed stories (eg Hensinger, Flaounas, and Cristianini (2013), Maldonado (2016)).

Virtual archaeology relies more heavily on the construction of new knowledge through the making or (re)imaging of 2D images, 3D models or 3D printed objects, but also can include immersive environments and non-ocular experiences. What does that mean? As archaeologists, we interpret the archaeological material that reveals itself. We draw from past knowledge and experience; what we have learned in school, on other archaeological excavations, what others have said on the subject before us, but more importantly what the object, landscape or built environment says to us personally. Virtual archaeology helps to support the archaeological narrative, but it also can create new knowledge and thus new narratives.

The Archaeological Department of the City of Amsterdam has created an impressive website that showcases the 700 000 plus finds, but they’ve done it in an intriguing way. There is a beautiful photo-catalogue called Stuff (details here).

Collecting your data digitally holds significant advantages. If you’ve settled on the structure of your destination database, digital data collection can seamlessly integrate information, eliminating extra steps and reducing opportunities for transcription errors.

digital archaeology as a field rests upon the creative use of primarily open-source and/or open-access materials to archive, re-use, analyze and communicate archaeological data, and the sharing of digital archaeological data, code and workflows. Our reliance on open-source and open-access is a political stance that emerges in opposition to archaeology’s past complicity in colonial enterprises and scholarship that rested on secrecy and restricted training and prevented access to archaeological data. Digital archaeology resists the (digital) neo-colonialism of Google, Facebook, and similar tech giants that typically promote disciplinary silos and closed code and data repositories. Just like in Hotel California, they aim to keep you on their platform indefinitely. Digital archaeology encourages innovative, reflective, and critical use of open access data and the development of open digital tools that facilitate linkages and analysis across varied digital sources.