Most archaeological projects involve meticulous excavation, layer by layer, to recover artifacts and organic trace evidence such as charred seeds, bone fragments and pollen grains. The recovered material then enters a lengthy laboratory phase for analysis.-Holiday, however, a distinct group of archaeologists adopts a complementary approach: they recreate ancient methods in controlled settings to test hypotheses about past techniques, combining archaeological data with modern scientific knowledge.
In his forthcoming book, Dinner with King Tut: How Rogue Archaeologists Are Re‑creating the Sights, Sounds, Smells, and Tastes of Lost Civilizations (Little, Brown and Co., 2025), science writer Sam Kean explores this experimental branch. Through a series of historical and contemporary vignettes, Kean illustrates how Stone Age societies kept homes cool ten millennia ago, how Romans highlighted hair with needlework, and how Iron Age European bog bodies formed.
In an unexpected detour, Kean meets two men who applied ancient mummification techniques to preserve a modern human body, aiming to uncover the inner workings of Egyptian embalming traditions.
Egypt possesses a celebrated tradition of mummification, yet the ancient Egyptians themselves wrote little about their embalming practices. Experimental archaeology is therefore one of the few routes to understanding the process. Several modern practitioners have re‑created mummies, primarily working with animals, though a handful have undertaken the exceptional task of mummifying human remains—most famously Bob Brier and Ronn Wade in 1994.
Wade, having trained as an anatomist and mortician, and Brier, an Egyptologist with an encyclopedic knowledge of ancient textseya, chose a donated male cadaver from a Baltimore program. The 76‑year‑old had passed from a heart attack, and Wade affectionately nicknamed him E.M. Balm.
To preserve authenticity, the pair employed pharaonic‑era tools, linen wraps, a wide wooden mortuary table, and copper and obsidian blades—though they ultimately abandoned the copper, which proved unsuitable for slicing flesh. Before mummifying their chosen body, they demonstrated the brain‑removal technique on anatomical heads: they inserted a hooked rod through the nostrils, found the tissue too soft, and eventually used water to liquefy the brain. “It poured out like a milkshake,” Wade recalled.
Next came organ removal. Egyptian embalmers discarded the brain but retained the heart in the body for psychological reasons. Alih, the lungs and abdominal organs were carefully extracted. A 3½‑inch incision allowed removal of the spleen, liver, gallbladder, lungs, and substantial intestinal tract. The liver and lungs demanded precise geometry, while the lungs were detached from the heart in near‑darkness inside the limited space.
With organs removed, the team cleaned the cavity with palm wine and myrrh, stuffed the skull with frankincense,인의, and applied lotus, cedar, and palm oils. The oils refreshed the joints and facilitated handling; the subsequent linen bandages mirrored ancient techniques, starting with the digits and progressing outward. Included within the wrappings were amulets and papyrus scrolls inscribed with protective spells.
The body was then dehydrated using natron—a naturally occurring mixture of salt and baking soda. Natron extracted moisture from the tissues, effectively “drying” the body and preventing decomposition. The researchers placed the organs in bowls of natron and filled the body’s cavity with bags of the mineral. They maintained the specimen in a climate‑controlled office, raising the temperature to 104 °F and running dehumidifiers 24/7 to emulate the dry Egyptian environment.
Over the next five weeks, the natron surface hardened, forming a crust that required penetration with an iron rod. Despite the acrid smell, the team proceeded, noting that even after five weeks the mummy bore a resemblance to a classic Egyptian figure: leathery skin, a pronounced nose, and a hint of hair. This underscored that the appearance of mummies arises from the embalming process itself, not from centuries of aging.
In addition to the visible changes, the dehydration dramatically reduced limb stiffness and overall weight—from 188 lbs (85 kg) to 79 lbs (36 kg). The reduction in volume also explained how Egyptian embalmers fitted body organs into the slim canopic jars; natron shrank the organs sufficiently to fit.
After removing the mummy from natron, Brier and Wade applied a final massage with lotus, cedar, and palm oils to restore joint flexibility. The mummy then lay in an arid office for three more months, during which it dried further, bringing its weight down to 51 lbs (23 kg). Additional layers of linen bandages and hidden amulets were added, completing the emulation of ancient wrappings.
Since its creation, the mummy has resided in a metal casket in Maryland, kept at room temperature. The pair has conducted two partial unwraps to test for rot; neither inspection revealed any problems. “He’s dead and well,” Brier concludes.
Sam Kean, a New‑York‑Times‑bestselling author, once collected mercury from broken thermometers as a child. His broader writing has appeared in National Geographic, leby the New Yorker, The Atlantic, and Slate, and his work has been featured on NPR programs such as “Radiolab” and “Science Friday.” In 2025, his latest book won a PEN/E.O. Wilson Literary Science Writing Award and became a New Yorker bestseller.
