Out of chaos comes order – research continues on Ness stone tools

Friday, January 16, 2026 (12:48 PM)

Figure 1: Ness of Brodgar Structures (Structure Schematics- Durdin 2024) (Bing Satellite Images)

By Gary Lloyd

The 2024 excavation season at the Ness of Brodgar marked the end of an extraordinary chapter. After twenty years, large-scale digging drew to a close on what is arguably the most important British prehistoric site discovered in the last half-century. Tens of thousands of artefacts, countless hours of trowelling, recording, and interpretation. Everything was winding down. Or was it?

Although less than 10% of the site has been uncovered, excavating over 2,000 m² has given us an unparalleled window into Neolithic life in Orkney. Across two decades, archaeologists discovered more than forty buildings, a monumental “Great Wall” (Fig. 1), and over 30,000 mapped small finds – from decorated stone and pottery to stone tools and a remarkable cache of animal bone.

To date, research from the Ness has already reshaped our understanding of the period. We’ve gained new insights into site chronology and its place in the wider Neolithic (Card et al., 2018), pottery traditions (Jones et al., 2019), architectural practices (Ackerman, 2021), Neolithic art (Thomas, 2016), and the cultural significance of cattle (Mainland et al., 2014). Yet, as is often the case in archaeology, every answer presents new questions.

The work is far from over.

Fast forward to 2025: post-excavation work is now in full swing. The seeming “chaos” of material; pottery, bone, stone (Fig. 2), has passed into the hands of specialists, each piecing together their part of the story.

Figure 2: Small finds distribution. (Bing Satellite Images)

For my part, as a PhD researcher at the UHI Archaeology Institute, I’m working deep in the world of percussive coarse stone tools. I’m trying to better understand our Neolithic ancestors’ relationship with the stone implements used at the Ness of Brodgar to hammer, pound, and chip all manner of materials.

Tucked away in one of the cubbies in Lochview cottage, surrounded by museum boxes from floor to ceiling, I spend my days measuring, weighing, and scrutinising cobbles recovered from the site. Occasionally I’m distracted by rabbits cavorting over the recently backfilled trenches, or I find myself gazing toward the Ring of Brodgar, but mostly it’s just me and the rocks.

Figure 3: Hammering scars on coarse stone tools.

Why focus on coarse stone tools?

Because despite being one of the most common tool types on many Neolithic sites, they’ve received surprisingly little detailed attention. They are often counted, catalogued, boxed, and then largely forgotten. But when we take the time to look closely, these unassuming cobbles begin to tell stories.

Rock type and material properties hint at where the stones were gathered and why they were chosen. Subtle scars and pecking marks reveal how they were made and used (Fig. 3). Faint incised lines speak to moments of modification or even decoration (Fig. 4).

*Figure 4: A faint incised mark on a hammerstone tool.*

Their depositional contexts raise questions about activity areas, structure use, and perhaps even the symbolic roles of certain tools (Fig. 5). Patterns of wear allow us to map activity types across the site (Fig. 6).

Figures 5 and 6: The distribution of percussive coarse stone tools and wear type across the site. (Structure Schematics – Durdin 2024) (Bing Satellite Images)

By bringing all these characteristics together, we can start building biographies of tools, narratives that explore the lives of objects and the people who shaped and used them.

It’s still early days, but intriguing patterns are already emerging from the analyses. I’d like to share more, but I’ve already exceeded my word count. Rest assured, though: there’s plenty more to come, and I’ll update you soon.