The authors kindly agreed to respond to these comments.

The term 'catastrophe' in my title is not chosen idly, but reflects the now well-established fact that Earth is experiencing (anthropogenic) climate change at a rate and scale unparalleled in human history (IPCC 2007a). Dramatic events such as the terrorist attacks of 11 September 2001 are so unexpected that one retains a clear memory of precisely when and where one learned of them. Regrettably, climate change is subtler, its effects slower, its consequences less immediately obvious. Yet something of the same is true. In my own case, I vividly recall the moment when I first grasped what it might mean. At the 1993 Kimberley meeting of the Southern African Society for Quaternary Research (SASQUA), a presenter commented that her palaeoenvironmental research, which reached back through the Holocene, might, perhaps, be relevant to modelling future climatic change. Back came the comment from another participant that the Holocene climatic 'optimum' was far from relevant; a bestcase analogue might instead be the conditions prevailing during the Pliocene, 5.3-1.8 million years ago.

Kristian Kristiansen takes issue with Cornelius Holtorf's vision of a people-driven archaeology; and the popular context replies in kind.

Empires produced some of the ancient world's grandest monuments. No doubt that helps to account for successive major exhibitions recently mounted at the British Museum. The First Emperor: China's Terracotta Army closed in April 2008, having drawn more visitors than any other since Treasures of Tutankhamun in 1972 (British Museum 2008: 66). There followed, from July to October, impressive and intriguing pieces on Hadrian, the Roman Emperor of the second century AD. The attention to large political systems is timely (James 2008: 201). Twenty-five years ago, Donald Horne (1984: 252) went so far as to declare that 'in the popularisations … of the huge storehouse of … artifacts … that are such an extraordinary feature of our age. … we may find the only real potential for giving substance to human liberation'. Is this feasible in practice; and, if so, is a state museum with business sponsorship a likely place to find such enlightenment? Studying the archaeology in Hadrian, with The First Emperor as a foil, enabled us to assess these questions.

In two recent books, From Stonehenge to Las Vegas – Archaeology as popular culture (AltaMira 2005) and Archaeology is a brand! The meaning of archaeology in popular culture (Archaeopress 2007), Cornelius Holtorf wants us to readdress the focus of archaeology from being predominantly a study of the past to becoming a study of its use in popular culture in the present. While I am in general sympathy with the attempt to analyse the role of archaeology in modern popular culture – and his 2007 book especially provides some good examples of that – I am deeply sceptical of Holtorf's theoretical and political programme for archaeology. It represents a dangerous attempt to deconstruct archaeology as a historical discipline in order to allow modern market forces to take over the archaeological heritage and the consumption of the past as popular culture.

The exhibition, Rome and the Barbarians: the Birth of a New World, in Venice, meditates on Europe's cultural genealogy. Europe, it argues, is a concoction of disparate traditions conceived and developed by the will of admiring immigrants to the Roman world from the east and north. It raises a range of issues left latent in the gallery. How can we create an appropriate narrative for the first millennium AD, particularly with archaeological finds? How, for that matter, can Europe's tradition be defined; and what prompts the issue?