Twice in the past week, I've been approached by enthusiasts who want to know how to dig a site. "I've a few weeks off next month," says one, "and my friend has this archaeological site I've been dying to look at. What things can I expect to find?" "I don't know anything about archaeology," remarks another, "but I know the site has lots of historical interest." (pause for loud wheeze from me)
Public archaeology has its pitfalls, there is no doubt about that. Archaeology, the study of archaeology, is a hobby to a lot of people, and we professionals are by and large very grateful for that. Reading about archaeological sites, attending archaeological society meetings, helping out on digs, taking courses, taking stands on preservation issues; all are very welcome expressions of support for our field. However, the excavation of archaeological sites is definitely NOT a hobby, any more than brain surgery is. Screw up a site, and the patient is dead, the information in it irretrievably lost.
Fortunately, the people who wrote me are not pothunters; they're well-meaning people who are interested in archaeology, and want to learn more. It is up to us professionals to continue to support the interested amateur, and to provide them opportunities to learn more, including the all-important respect for our fragile and scarce cultural resources.
The question has to be: Who owns the past? The answer is, we all do; and what that means is not only that the amateurs should refrain from excavating archaeological sites, but that the professionals should provide information about what we find and what it means to the interested public.

