space syntax analysis of central inuit snow houses

Space syntax analysis of Central Inuit snow houses

Peter C. Dawson

Department of Archaeology, University of Calgary, 2500 University Dr., NW Calgary, Alberta, Canada T2N 1N4

Received 12 November 2001; revision received 29 April 2002; accepted 11 June 2002

Abstract

Space syntax is a graph-based theory used by architects to examine how the spatial layout of buildings

and cities influences the economic, social, and environmental outcomes of human movement and social

interaction. Archaeologists have explored this concept by analyzing how social structure is reflected in the

spatial configuration of public and domestic architecture. In this paper, space syntax is used to examine the

spatial morphology of snow houses built by three Central Inuit groups in the Canadian Arctic, based on

ethnohistoric and ethnographic accounts. The results of this study demonstrate that variation in family

structure and the behavioral directives present in Inuit kinship systems are reflected in the spatial con-

figurations of snow house architecture. This has important implications for understanding how architec-

ture might be used to identify enduring and changing patterns of household and community organization

in the archaeological record.

� 2002 Elsevier Science (USA). All rights reserved.

Keywords: Inuit; Canadian Arctic; Architecture; Snow house; Social structure; Space syntax; Thule culture

Introduction

The snow houses used by Inuit groups in the

Canadian Arctic have long fascinated Europeans

who marveled at their ingenious construction and

thermal efficiency. Ethnographic and ethnohisto-

ric sources indicate that snow houses varied in

both size and spatial complexity according to

economic, social, and environmental conditions.

In 1906, Marcel Mauss and Henri Beauchat sug-

gested that large snow houses were designed to

accommodate periods of collective social and rit-

ual intensification that occurred as Inuit groups

assembled in large numbers to hunt seals out on

the sea ice. However, the idea that specific aspects

of Central Inuit social organization might be re-

flected in snow house architecture has been largely

unexplored. This is not surprising given that the

use of snow houses had discontinued by the 1950s,

and that structures used prior to this time have

left no discernable traces in the archaeological

record. However, these unique house forms were

occasionally described and sketched by early ex-

plorers, missionaries, and ethnographers.

Three of these sketches form the corpus of this

study, and are used to explore the extent to which

social information might be present in the geo-

metric structure of their spatial layouts. The first

illustration is of a Copper Inuit snow house built

in the vicinity of Dolphin and Union Strait and

documented by the ethnographer and archaeolo-

gist Diamond Jenness, in 1915 (Fig. 1). The sec-

ond is of a Netsilik Inuit (Netsilingmiut) snow

house built on the sea ice of Repulse Bay, and

mapped by the explorer Charles Francis Hall, in

Journal of Anthropological Archaeology 21 (2002) 464–480

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1866 (Fig. 2). The third is of an Iglulik Inuit (Ig-

lulingmiut) snow house constructed on the east

coast of the Melville Peninsula in the eastern part

of the Central Canadian Arctic, and documented

by the Danish ethnographer and archaeologist

Therkel Mathiassen, in 1922 (Fig. 3). While few

detailed illustrations of this type exist, other

written descriptions of snow houses reveal that all

three can be considered as representative of the

styles of houses that were constructed by each

group.

These three snow house plans were analyzed

using the theory and methods of space syntax.

Originally developed by Bill Hillier and colleagues

at University College London, space syntax has

been used by architects to examine the influence of

the spatial layout of buildings and cities upon the

economic, social, and environmental outcomes of

human movement and social interaction. Recur-

ring forms of spatial configuration have been

discovered among buildings of similar function

and ethnic affiliation. This suggests that human

activities and social processes have unique re-

quirements that are realized in space. When the

function of a building is altered, or when the so-

cial relations of its inhabitants change, new spatial

orders are necessarily introduced. Archaeologists

have explored this concept by analyzing how

culture change is expressed in the floor plan ge-

ometry of Pueblo ruins (Van Dyke, 1999) and

Levantine Neolithic architecture (Banning, 1996).

Other researchers have examined how ethnicity is

reflected in the architecture of traditional versus

urban house types in the west-central Nile Delta

(Plimpton and Hassan, 1987) and Turkish houses

from the 17th to 19th centuries (Orhun et al.,

1995). However, few studies have used space

syntax to analyze how social processes are re-

flected in the dwellings of small scale hunting and

gathering societies. This is unfortunate, as the

Fig. 1. Copper Inuit Snow House. The names on each

sleeping platform refer to family members occupying the

house at the time it was documented by Jenness. ‘‘A

four-roomed dwelling with a dance house’’, from The life

of the Copper Eskimo: Report of the Canadian Arctic

Expedition 1913–1918, by Diamond Jenness, 1922, fig.

20, p. 75. � Canadian Museum of Civilization.

Fig. 2. Netsilik Inuit Snow House (Hall, 1890, p. 220).

Fig. 3. Iglulik Inuit Snow House (Mathiassen, 1928, pp.

126–127).

P.C. Dawson / Journal of Anthropological Archaeology 21 (2002) 464–480 465

architectural flexibility and limited duration of

occupation that characterize dwellings such as

snow houses would have likely served to capture

domestic life at a specific point in time.

While space syntax analysis is relatively

straightforward, the interpretation of results is

often not. This is because space syntax assumes

that relationships between spaces translate di-

rectly into relationships between people. As a re-

sult, ethnographic and ethnohistoric information

is used to link differences in spatial organization

to variations observed in the social structures of

Copper, Netsilik, and Iglulik Inuit groups. The

results of this study demonstrate that variation in

social integration and the behavioral directives

present in Inuit kinship systems are revealed in the

geometric structure of snow house architecture

through differences in scale, integration, and spa-

tial asymmetry. The Copper, Netsilik, and Iglulik

Inuit all occupy slightly different regions of the

Canadian Arctic, yet they are known to have in-

teracted periodically (Fig. 4). This strengthens the

argument that variations in the syntactic proper-

ties among their reported architectural forms re-

flect differences in regional socio-political struc-

ture, and not necessarily variations based on

available raw materials or stylistic traditions.

These results have important implications for ar-

chaeologists because they suggest that it might be

possible to retrofit the spatial characteristics of

social processes observed in the ethnographic re-

cord to the archaeological record, thereby pro-

viding new insights into the social structures of

prehistoric and historic societies.

Snow house architecture

The architectural properties of Inuit snow

houses represent a unique adaptation to an arctic

way of life. Ethnographic observations indicate

that two people could build a self-supporting,

thermally efficient structure large enough to shel-

ter a family in the space of only a few hours. The

use of snow as a construction material eliminated

the need to carry heavy portable shelters and al-

lowed families to stay mobile throughout the

winter months. Indirect evidence for the use of

Fig. 4. Map showing the regions inhabited historically by Copper, Netsilik, and Iglulik Inuit groups. Adapted from

Handbook of North American Indians (Arctic) 1984, p. viii.

466 P.C. Dawson / Journal of Anthropological Archaeology 21 (2002) 464–480

snow houses in pre-contact times has been cited

primarily from the recovery of snow knives at

Thule archaeological sites. Thule peoples arrived

in the Canadian Arctic from the area of the Bering

Strait approximately 1000 years ago. There is little

evidence for snow house use in the Bering Strait

region and this has prompted speculation that

knowledge of snow houses may have been ac-

quired through contacts with earlier remnant

Dorset populations (Bandi, 1969, p. 150; Du-

mond, 1977, p. 145; Maxwell, 1985, p. 368;

McGhee, 1984, p. 372; Morrison, 1983, p. 279;

Plumet, 1979, p. 116 but see Park, 1993, pp. 216–

217 for an alternate view). The use of large

coastally situated semi-subterranean houses by

Thule peoples suggests that snow houses would

have functioned primarily as impermanent shel-

ters for use when traveling (Park, 1988, p. 71).

With the abandonment of bowhead whaling in

many regions of the eastern and central Arctic in

the 16th century, the snow house became the

principal winter house form among many Inuit

groups. Snow houses were used from October

until May (Mathiassen, 1928, p. 129) and con-

tinued to serve as an important type of winter

dwelling until the 1950s.

Numerous descriptions of the techniques used

to build snow houses exist in the accounts of ex-

plorers, missionaries, whalers, and ethnographers.

The construction of snow houses was a coopera-

tive endeavor between both sexes. Men were usu-

ally responsible for the cutting and placement of

snow blocks while the shoveling of snow over top

of the house was mostly the work of women

(Mathiassen, 1928, p. 124). A man would begin by

cutting snow blocks of a fine grain and uniform

consistency from a suitable snow drift using a su-

lung or snow knife (Kershaw et al., 1995, p. 334).

Once the initial row of blocks had been placed in a

circle, the first block was cut down to the ground

and the top of the row inclined so as to form the

first thread of a spiral (Boas, 1964 [1888], p. 132).

Subsequent rows were placed in a similar fashion

until the ‘‘vault’’ or dome was completed. An en-

trance tunnel comprising two or three smaller

vaults for storage was then fitted to this doorway,

and a small window was cut over the entrance and

covered with either a translucent patch of sewn

seal intestine, or a piece of freshwater ice (Mathi-

assen, 1928, p. 129). Snow was then shoveled

overtop of the structure for additional insulation

(Mathiassen, 1928, p. 124). Inside the house, an

elevated platform was constructed at the rear of

the dwelling and lamp (kudlick) stands erected

along the side walls adjacent to the opening of the

entrance tunnel. The internal dimensions of living

and storage spaces have been documented by

Mathiassen (1928), Boas (1964 [1888]), Balikci

(1970), Jenness (1922), and others and appear to

have ranged from 3.35m (Mathiassen, 1928, p.

125) to over 6m in diameter for a single dome

(Mathiassen, 1928, p. 128; Balikci, 1970, p. 63).

Dead air spaces within snow blocks served to ef-

fectively insulate the interior of the dwelling from

the cold outside air. Inuit groups such as the Ig-

lulingmuit and Tunumeriut would also suspend

skin linings from the walls and roofs of their

houses. This could increase the interior tempera-

ture of the dwelling by as much as 10 �C (Boas,

1964 [1888], p. 135). Sealskins sewn together to

make these linings were often derived from worn

out summer tents (Mathiassen, 1928, p. 128).

Three primary sources of energy were used to

heat snow houses: (1) the burning of sea mammal

oil in lamps, (2) body heat generated by the oc-

cupants of the dwelling (including dogs), and (3)

geothermal heat emitted from the soil below the

dwelling when constructed on land rather than sea

ice (Kershaw et al., 1995, p. 334). Restricted access

to sea mammal oil, small family sizes, and lack of

suitable snow occasionally placed limits on the size

and spatial complexity of snow houses. Efforts to

locate good snow drifts may have been consider-

able when winter conditions were less than optimal

(Kershaw et al., 1995, p. 334). Jenness (1922), for

example, reports that among the Copper Inuit

limited access to snowdrifts of a depth appropriate

for cutting snow blocks sometimes resulted in

families constructing small, single-roomed snow

houses. Regardless, many ethnographers and ex-

plorers encountered large multi-roomed snow

houses grouped into villages of 100 or more people

(Mathiassen, 1928; Maxwell, 1985).

The construction of multi-roomed or ‘‘com-

posite’’ snow houses has been documented among

the Copper, Netsilik, and Iglulik Inuit of the Ca-

nadian Arctic. Composite dwellings usually con-

sisted of two or more domes that were connected

by co-joining the walls or entrance tunnels of the

structures. In 1830, British Naval explorer Sir

John Ross observed 120 Netsilik Inuit persons

inhabiting 12 snow houses and estimated an av-

erage household unit of 10 persons (Ross, 1835,

p. 243). Among the plates included in Ross�spublished narrative is one entitled ‘‘Snow Cottages

of the Boothians’’ (Fig. 5) (Ross, 1835, p. 248).

The snow houses in this illustration are clustered

close together and few entrance tunnels are


depicted, suggesting that perhaps some were in-

terconnected. During his search for Sir John

Franklin, Leopold McClintock commented on 12

persons inhabiting two snow houses with con-

joining entrance tunnels (McClintock, 1868, p.

225). Likewise, Danish explorer Knud Rasmussen

described ‘‘five domed huts with communicating

passages’’ which housed an extended family of 16

people at Cape Elizabeth, north of Lyon Inlet

(Rasmussen, 1933, p. 46).

While some composite snow houses consisted

of living areas, storage areas, and dog rooms,

others were built around special function spaces

such as festival or dance houses which were used

for communal activities such as singing, dancing,

drumming, and competitive games (Fig. 1). The

size of the dance house was often determined by

the number of residential dwellings it was required

to enclose. The more numerous the dwellings that

had to be connected, the more difficult the dance

house was to construct (Balikci, 1970, p. 62; Jen-

ness, 1922, p. 77). As a result, the usual practice

among the Copper Inuit was to build dance

houses over the entrance passages of up to three

houses, although Jenness (1922, 71) reports that

building over the entrances of four snow houses

was not unknown. Among the Netsilik Inuit,

building dance houses over the entrances of four

dwellings appears to have been more common

(Balikci, 1970, pp. 62–63). While the use of dance

houses to connect family dwellings was practiced

by the Iglulik Inuit, they were also built as sepa-

rate structures (Boas, 1964 [1888], p. 192). The

greater ecological productivity of the Iglulik Inuit

area (Damas, 1975b, p. 414) may have provided

enough sea mammal oil to heat dance houses as

stand-alone structures. In contrast, more limited

access to sea mammal oil may have made it im-

practical to build dance houses as separate edifices

in the Copper and Netsilik areas. It would have

therefore been necessary to heat these large spaces

using the lamps of connected family dwellings.

Social structure and residence patterns in Central

Inuit snow houses

Damas (1972, 1975b) has argued that integra-

tion and cohesion in social structure intensified

among Central Inuit cultures as one moved from

west to east in the Canadian Arctic (Fig. 4). For

example, household organization, leadership,

kinship directives, and communal living arrange-

ments all increased in formality and rigidity (Ta-

ble 1). The reasons for these differences are

difficult to ascertain, and attempts have been

made to explain them in terms of environmental

variables and historic processes (Damas, 1969,

Fig. 5. Snow Cottages of the Boothians (Ross, 1835, p. 248).


1975b). For example, it was thought that the

reason why seal meat sharing networks were

present among the Copper and Netsilik, yet ab-

sent among the Iglulik Inuit, was due to the fact

that the former occupied areas of greater ecolog-

ical uncertainty (Damas, 1969, p. 55). Likewise,

the larger winter village aggregations of the Iglulik

Inuit were linked to the greater ecological pro-

ductivity of the areas they inhabited (Damas,

1969, p. 53). However, there were certain features

of Central Inuit social organization that were not

shared among groups occupying similar environ-

mental zones. These included significant differ-

ences in leadership roles and in family structure

among Copper and Netsilik Inuit groups (Ste-

venson, 1997, pp. 21–22). Damas (1969, 1975b)

has suggested that those features of Central Inuit

social structure not linked to environmental vari-

ables likely represent the effects of historical pro-

cesses such as migration, diffusion, innovation,

and cultural drift.

Space syntax theory predicts that the spatial

configurations of Copper, Netsilik, and Iglulik

Inuit snow houses should reflect many of the

differences outlined above. If true, then it might be

possible to search for similar forms of spatial

configuration in the archaeological record, and

use the social correlates of these configurations as

an armature for understanding the social struc-

tures of Thule culture and later historic Inuit

groups. In order to examine this possibility, it is

first necessary to define the characteristic features

of Central Inuit social organization and then

translate them into measurable properties of

spatial configuration. Features that warrant spe-

cial attention are the behavioral directives that

structured interpersonal relationships. In general

terms, these behavioral directives operated along

two axes; one based on respect–obedience (na-

alaqtuq) and the other on affectional solidarity

and emotional closeness (ungayuq) (Damas,

1975a, p. 24; Stevenson, 1997, p. 9; Wenzel, 1981,

p. 86). Together, these directives structured rela-

tions between dyads or paired sets of individuals.

These dyads were usually determined by sex,

generational and relative age differences, and

consanguinal/affinal ties (Damas, 1975a, p. 24).

Rather than working in opposition to one an-

other, naalaqtuq and ungayuq directives were

mutually influencing and complementary in na-

ture (Stevenson, 1997, p. 12). Damas (1965,

1975a) and Stevenson (1997) have examined how

these two behavioral directives functioned in

terms of kinship while Wenzel (1981) has analyzed

how naalaqtuq and ungayuq patterned ecological

activities in productive ways.

Copper Inuit

In the western Arctic, Copper Inuit winter

villages consisted of loose clusters of nuclear

families held together more by voluntary associ-

ations than by kinship (Damas, 1969). While some

sets of relatives did have mildly expressed subor-

dinate directives affixed to them, the principals of

naalaqtuq and ungayuq were virtually absent. In-

stead, the autonomy of nuclear families and a

strong egalitarian ethic were stressed, and volun-

tary associations and partnerships were used to

create symmetrical ties between individuals (Ste-

venson, 1997, p. 47). Among the most important

of these were spousal exchange partnerships and

singing/dancing associations (Damas, 1969, pp.

49–50). Two nuclear families engaged in such re-

lationships would normally live together in a

composite snow house with separate living and

cooking areas. Dance houses were used to connect

such structures and likely increased the stability of

Table 1

Comparisons of three Central Inuit regional groupsa

Features Copper Inuit Netsilik Inuit Iglulik Inuit

Household

organization

Nuclear Extended Extended

Leadership Ephemeral Extended family head Local group and extended

family heads

Kinship directives Attenuated,

narrow in scope

Restricted to extended family,

weak dominance hierarchy

(naalaqtuq), moderate affectional

bonding (ungayuq)

Broad in scope, strong

dominance hierarchy

(naalaqtuq) and affectional

bonding (ungayuq)

Communal living

arrangements

Fleeting and

impermanent

Greater duration and stability Greatest duration and

stability

aAdapted from Stevenson (1997) and Damas (1965, 1969, 1971, 1972, 1975a,b).


alliances formed between nuclear families (Jen-

ness, 1922, p. 77). Outside of these relationships,

nuclear families occupied small unattached snow

houses that were occasionally connected to the

dwellings of other families for social purposes

using walls or entrance passages (Jenness, 1922,

pp. 65–76). Co-residence within these communal

dwellings was often fleeting and impermanent,

and rarely lasted more than one camp move

(Jenness, 1922, p. 74).

Netsilik Inuit

As one moved eastward into the Netsilik area,

kinship became a more important organizing

principle (Damas, 1969). Extended families, inte-

grated through kin ties, partnerships, and ungayuq

and naalaqtuq bonds, formed mutually autono-

mous and highly territorial local groups. Damas

(1972, 1975a) considered Netsilik social structure

to be more integrated than the Copper Inuit but

less integrated than the Iglulik Inuit. This as-

sumption was based on his belief that ungayuq

directives did not apply to the Netsilik. Stevenson

(1997), however, has suggested that the continu-

ation of affectional behaviors among cross-sex

cousins into adulthood and the use of terms of

endearment between wives and husbands imply

that deep bonds of affection did exist between

members of the local group. Consequently, he has

argued that ungayuq bonds were present in

Netsilik society, and that they were emphasized to

a greater extent than naalaqtuq directives (Ste-

venson, 1997, p. 285). Within the family, na-

alaqtuq bonds structured father–son relations,

with sons submitting to their father�s authority in

all aspects of daily life (Damas, 1975a, p. 18). The

pair acquired a functional significance for the

extended family by cooperating in a range of ac-

tivities (Balikci, 1970, p. 105). Other pairs that

incorporated naalaqtuq directives included broth-

er–sister, uncle–nephew, and older sibling–youn-

ger sibling (Damas, 1975a, p. 16).

Balikci (1970, 62) has stated that it was the

usual pattern for two related families to share a

snow house. In this situation, resident families

would either occupy a single snow house or erect

adjoining snow houses with a common fore porch.

On occasion, four snow houses were used to form

the foundation of a large communal dance house

(Balikci, 1970, p. 62). Unlike the Copper Inuit,

who defined co-residency primarily through

partnerships, Netsilik families occupying com-

posite snow houses were usually related through

kin ties. For example, recently married sons would

frequently live with their fathers (Balikci, 1970, p.

62). As a consequence, Balikci (1970) states that

the occupants of large composite structures con-

stituted a single, close-knit social unit. While

camp moves were relatively frequent during peri-

ods of winter sealing, the greater unity of the

Netsilik family resulted in more stable patterns of

co-residence than those observed among the

Copper Inuit (Balikci, 1970, p. 112).

Iglulik Inuit

Moving further east into the Iglulingmiut area,

social structure assumed the most internally co-

herent and integrated form of all three groups

(Damas, 1965, 1975a). Strong kinship directives

and numerous kin ties defined the extended fam-

ily. Kinship factors and a diverse range of vol-

untary associations/partnerships functioned to

integrate family members into households and

local groups (Damas, 1975a, p. 19). Two features

of Iglulik Inuit social organization that stand out

are the solidarity of the extended family and the

emphasis placed on naalaqtuq behavioral direc-

tives (Stevenson, 1997, p. 273). Within Iglulik

Inuit culture, age, gender, generation, and con-

sanguinal/affinal ties determined one�s place in the

social hierarchy (Stevenson, 1997, p. 273). Hence,

young were subordinate to old, sisters subordinate

to brothers, children subordinate to parents, and

in-marrying males subordinate to all males born

into the kin group regardless of age or genera-

tional relationships. Outside of the kin group,

social hierarchies were established and maintained

through friendly competition designed to establish

who was the fastest, strongest, or cleverest (Ras-

mussen, 1933, p. 227). So completely did na-

alaqtuq directives structure Iglulik Inuit social life

that individuals would constantly inquire about

age, purpose, and connection as a means of fig-

uring out how others fit into the status hierarchy

(Damas, 1965, p. 47). The emphasis placed on

naalaqtuq directives resulted in pronounced lead-

ership within both the extended family and the

local group (Wenzel, 1981, p. 85).

Extended families occupied large composite

snow houses which were the most common form

of winter dwelling among the Iglulik Inuit (Lyon,

1824; Mathiassen, 1928). The floor plans of Iglulik

Inuit snow houses documented by Mathiassen

(1928) from the Melville Peninsula suggest that

they were among the largest and most spatially

complex of all Central Inuit groups. These


structures were commonly organized around a

central system of spaces which linked together

living areas, dog rooms, and storage areas

(Mathiassen, 1928, p. 125). While dance houses

were used to connect the snow houses of co-resi-

dent families in Copper and Netsilik culture, they

existed more frequently as separate structures

among the Iglulik Inuit (Boas, 1964 [1888], p.

192). These ceremonial houses usually consisted

of a single, large dome 4.6m in height and 6.1m in

diameter and were used for singing, dancing, and

feasting (Boas, 1964 [1888], p. 192). Finally,

communal living arrangements within composite

snow houses appear to have been more stable and

of longer duration than among the Copper and

Netsilik Inuit. For example, Rasmussen (1933, 22)

deduced that an extended family of 16 persons he

visited at Lyon Inlet had lived in their large snow

house for some time because ‘‘heat had thawed

the inner surface of the walls, forming icicles that

hung down gleaming in the soft light of the

blubber lamp.’’

To summarize, integration and cohesion in so-

cial structure varied among Central Inuit cultures

as one moved from west to east. The importance of

kinship as an organizing principle increased be-

tween Copper, Netsilik, and Iglulik Inuit groups,

as did the solidarity and size of the residential

family, and the number of non-kindred alliance

forming mechanisms. Behavioral directives in-

volving respect–obedience (naalaqtuq) were most

strongly expressed among the Iglulingmiut. Fi-

nally, residence patterns in composite snow houses

shifted from several autonomous nuclear families

integrated through voluntary associations and

partnerships to large extended families integrated

through strongly developed kin ties. These differ-

ences appear to have been accompanied by in-

creases in the duration and stability of family

residency within the snow house. Space syntax

provides a methodology for translating these key

features into properties that can be measured in the

spatial configuration of snow house floor plans.

The theory and method of space syntax

In 1984, Hillier and Hanson published The

Social Logic of Space in which they outlined a

syntactic theory for the organization of space in

buildings and settlements. In the book they argued

that buildings, towns, and cities have particular

spatial properties that translate into sociological

rules which affect how people relate to one an-

other. Within this framework, the spatial config-

uration of a dwelling or settlement is believed to

present a fairly precise map of the economic, so-

cial, and ideological relations of its inhabitants

(Hanson, 1998, p. 13). Over the past 18 years, the

theory and method of space syntax has undergone

a great deal of development. This has been due

largely to three factors; the application of space

syntax to a wider range of building and settlement

types (Hanson, 1994, 1998; Hillier, 1996; Peponis

et al., 1997, etc.), the development of sophisticated

computer software that has allowed researchers to

numerically capture differences in the configura-

tion of spaces (Penn et al., 1998; Turner, 2001,

etc.), and the organization of three international

symposia on space syntax research (2002, 1999,

1997). Results indicate that integration and con-

nectivity are powerful predictors for how ‘‘busy’’

or how ‘‘quiet’’ a space will be (Hanson, 1998,

p. 10). Spaces are usually connected together in

ways that vary the distribution of integration

throughout the structure, making some areas of a

dwelling more accessible than others. This se-

quencing of integration serves to regulate interac-

tions among inhabitants, and between inhabitants

and visitors. In an Ashanti palace, for example,

integration is sequenced in such a way that one

must first pass through a series of intermediate

spaces in order to access the personal space of the

chief who occupies the deepest section of the

configuration (Hillier and Hanson, 1984, p. 167).

In this situation, the spatial configuration of the

palace serves to reinforce the social inequalities

inherent in Ashanti society (Hillier and Hanson,

1984, p. 167). Integration has emerged from em-

pirical studies as the most important way in which

houses convey culture through their spatial con-

figurations (Hanson, 1998, p. 32). If houses display

regularities in their spatial configurations, then

they are said to share similar constructions of so-

cial interfaces among family members. Conversely,

if houses display irregularities, then these social

interfaces must also differ. One of the basic strat-

egies of space syntax research, then, is to search for

invariants in spatial patterning, and translate these

into patterns of human interaction that are cul-

turally specific. This is accomplished through

configurational description.

Configurational descriptions consist of justified

graphs of lines and circles which map the perme-

ability or accessibility of a building. Three prop-

erties of spatial configuration that can be

measured from justified permeability graphs are

scale, integration, and relative asymmetry (RA).


Scale is simply the total number of nodes or

bounded spaces contained in the configuration

(Fig. 6A). Scale provides an indication of the size

and spatial requirements of the residential unit.

Integration encompasses two components: the

number of rings and the number communal

spaces. Rings occur when spaces are connected

together into circuits that allow a single space to

be accessed by more than one route (Fig. 6B).

This results in ‘‘short cuts’’ between spaces that

truncate the route of access. Communal spaces

function to integrate other types of spaces by

connecting them together in ways that create op-

portunities for social encounters and participation

in group activities (Fig. 6C). As a result, well-in-

tegrated households often utilize greater numbers

of rings and communal spaces.

Relative asymmetry maps how integration is

distributed throughout the structure, thereby im-

mediately capturing the configurational properties

of a building. This provides the researcher with a

numerical means of comparing the configura-

tional descriptions of different types of structures

(Hanson, 1998, p. 23; Hillier and Hanson, 1984,

pp. 108–140). Relative asymmetry is determined

by calculating the relative differences in ‘‘trip’’

lengths it takes to move from one space to all

other spaces in the dwelling. This principle is re-

flected in Figs. 7A and B, in which the justified

permeability graph of an Iglulik Inuit snow house

(Fig. 3) has been redrawn from the perspective of

two different spaces. The different ways in which

spaces 3 and 11 are connected to other spaces in

the configuration changes the depth and symme-

try of each graph. As a result, ‘‘trips’’ taken from

space 11 to all other spaces in the structure vary

much more in length than trips taken from space

3. This has the effect of making space 11 less ac-

cessible to a person moving through the dwelling

than space 3. Relative asymmetry can be ex-

pressed mathematically using an equation devel-

oped by Hillier and Hanson (1984, p. 108). The

mean depth (MD) of each space is calculated by

assigning every other space a depth value, based

on the trip lengths taken to move from the current

space to all others in the dwelling. These trip

lengths are then summed and divided by the total

number of spaces in the house (k) less one (the

current space). Relative asymmetry is then calcu-

lated as follows:

RA ¼ 2ðMD� 1Þk � 2

:

Because RA values can vary considerably

across dwellings of different sizes, it is necessary to

convert them into a measure of real relative

asymmetry (RRA) using a table of constants

Fig. 6. (A–C) Properties of spatial configuration com-

prising scale and integration.

Fig. 7. (A, B) Justified permeability graphs for an

Iglulik Inuit snow house (Fig. 3) drawn from the per-

spective of two different spaces (3; 11).


provided by Hillier and Hanson (1984, p. 112).

The resulting RRA values are either greater than

or less than 1, with higher values indicating more

asymmetry or differences in spatial accessibility. A

computer program called Netbox has been de-

veloped specifically for configurational analysis

and allows for the rapid calculation of RA and

RRA values.

It is important to note that various criticisms

have been leveled against the theory and method

of space syntax. Many assert that space syntax is

simply a na€ııve form of architectural determinism.

It should be pointed out, however, that practi-

tioners of space syntax have made concerted ef-

forts to distance themselves from this idea by

portraying spatial organization as a means by

which societies simply reconstitute or reproduce

themselves. Critics such as Leach (1978) have

stated that the theory itself lacks sociological so-

phistication, and that the mathematical models

developed by Hillier and colleagues cannot ac-

count for the complexity of real life situations

(Leach, 1978, p. 400). Space syntax also supposes

that all cultures share similar strategies for privacy

regulation, and that the accessibility of a space is

equivalent to the power that occupants of the

space wield over others in the household (Parker-

Pearson and Richards, 1994, p. 30). Regardless, a

growing body of research indicates that the spatial

structure of any house re-enforces to some degree,

a customary pattern of integration among its oc-

cupants that is often culturally unique (e.g., Hill-

ier, 1996; Hanson, 1998). Finally, it has been

suggested that in order to use space syntax to

make valid inferences about social relations from

the ground plans of houses and settlements in the

archaeological record, one almost needs to know

the answer to the question before it is asked

(Leach, 1978, p. 338). However, through the use

of direct historic analogy and ethnoarchaeology,

archaeologists can analyze the spatial configura-

tions of historic or contemporary groups and then

look for evidence of similar syntactic principles in

the archaeological record. Thus, as Parker-Pear-

son and Richards (1994, p. 30) explain, space

syntax is still a useful tool in archaeology.

Determining the space syntax of Central Inuit

social structure

The key features of Central Inuit social orga-

nization translate into the properties of scale, in-

tegration, and real relative asymmetry in the

following ways. The size of the residential unit

translates into scale, with extended family house-

holds occupying dwellings of greater scale than

nuclear family households. Behavioral directives

based on affectional solidarity and emotional

closeness (ungayuq) translate into integration, with

strongly integrated families making greater use of

rings and communal spaces. Behavioral directives

based on respect–obedience (naalaqtuq) translate

into higher values of real relative asymmetry with

strong subordinate relationships resulting in

highly asymmetrical spatial configurations.

Justified permeability graphs were drawn from

the maps taken of the Copper, Netsilik, and

Iglulik Inuit snow houses using Netbox, version

4.1 (Figs. 8A–C). Measures of scale and integra-

tion were then taken directly from the justified

permeability graphs and RRA values were calcu-

lated for each graph also using Netbox. The re-

sults of the analysis are provided in Figs. 8D–F

and Table 2, and were used in conjunction with

observations of space use in snow houses found in

ethnohistoric sources.

Results of analysis

Results indicate that the Iglulik Inuit snow

house displays higher values of scale, integration,

and real relative asymmetry than those of the

Copper and Netsilik Inuit which share a similar

spatial configuration. The measurements taken in

Figs. 8D–F and summarized in Table 2 reveal that

the Iglulik Inuit snow house contains a greater

number of spaces. While both the Copper and

Netsilik Inuit snow houses used in the analysis are

of the same scale, ethnogrophic data indicate that

composite dwellings of one to three domes (living

areas) were usual among the Copper Inuit (Jen-

ness, 1922, p. 71) while structures of four domes

were more common among the Netsilik (Balikci,

1970, pp. 62–63). The largest Iglulik Inuit snow

house recorded by Mathiassen (1928) contained

five family domes. These differences in scale likely

reflect the fact that larger extended families

formed the primary residential unit in Ig-

lulingmiut society. Hence, the larger the residen-

tial unit, the greater the need for residential space,

extra storage space, and activity space.

The Iglulik Inuit snow house is also more

spatially integrated. Figs. 8C and F contain a ring

or circuit which connects spaces 2, 3, and 4,

thereby integrating the residential space 10 into

the rest of the structure. The Iglulik Inuit snow


house also contains a greater number of commu-

nal spaces (spaces 2, 3, 4, and 5). Many of these

communal spaces appear to have functioned as

dog rooms and storage areas for meat and com-

munal property (Mathiassen, 1928). This stands in

contrast to the single communal space used in

Copper Inuit and Netsilik snow houses which

commonly functioned as a dance house. In the

case of the Copper Inuit, the greater autonomy of

nuclear families may have required the use of

communal spaces for rituals which encouraged

cooperation and group solidarity. The strong

solidarity of the extended family in Iglulingmiut

society likely made it unnecessary to use com-

munal spaces for such functions.

Perhaps most interesting, however, are the

differences in real relative asymmetry values dis-

played between houses. The Iglulik Inuit snow

house exhibits a greater average RRA value

(1.1920) than the Copper and Netsilik examples

(RAA¼ .9550). As mentioned previously, higher

RRA values indicate greater asymmetry in the

spatial configuration. This greater asymmetry is

caused by the fact that trips of unequal lengths

must be made when moving between different

spaces within the dwelling. This has the effect of

Table 2

Measurements of spatial configuration taken from the floor plans of snow houses

House Scale Integration Real relative asymmetry

# Nodes # Rings # Communal spaces Average RRA

Copper Inuit 5 0 1 .9550

Netsilik Inuit 5 0 1 .9550

Iglulik Inuit 10 1 4 1.1920

Fig. 8. (A–F) Justified permeability maps and RRA values for Copper Inuit (A, D), Netsilik Inuit (B, E), and Iglulik

Inuit (C, F) snow houses. Space 1 is the interface between the outside and inside of the dwelling. Solid black circles

denote family living areas.


creating greater control over space and the di-

rection of movement. To illustrate, in Figs. 8C

and F space 6 is the most easily accessed family

living area in the structure (RAA¼ 1.20), fol-

lowed by space 10 (RRA¼ 1.28), and then by

spaces 7, 8, and 9 (RRA¼ 1.43). The hierarchical

distribution of living spaces within this snow

house is intriguing, given the emphasis placed on

behavioral directives involving respect–obedience

(naalaqtuq) in Iglulik Inuit society. While Mathi-

assen (1928) fails to explicitly define the relations

held among the occupants of Fig. 8C, space syn-

tax theory predicts that the occupants of space 6

were subordinate to those of spaces 7, 8, 9, and 10.

Similarly, the occupants of space 10 would have

been superordinate to those of space 6 and sub-

ordinate to those of spaces 7, 8, and 9. This in-

terpretation is supported by Damas�s (1971, 61)

observation that:

‘‘There appears to have been a definite accepted

pattern of habitation of clusters or composite

snow houses. The rearmost dome was inhabited

by the father and his youngest unmarried son

while the domes to the side were the dwellings of

older married sons and the occasional son-in-law.’’

It therefore seems plausible that the greater

control of movement in this particular Iglulik

Inuit snow house is a spatial expression of the

respect–obedience directives present in the father–

son and father-in-law/son-in-law dyads discussed

earlier in this paper. This structure is somewhat

unique in this regard, as the other two snow

houses used in the analysis situate families in

spaces that would have been equally accessible.

If snow house architecture is a true reflection

of social behavior, then we might also expect

spatial configuration to change as the social dy-

Fig. 9. (A–D) Configurational descriptions (C, D) of two Iglulik Inuit snow houses (A, B) built one month apart, and

occupied by members of the same extended family (Mathiassen, 1928, pp. 126–127). Solid black circles denote family

living areas.


namics of families were altered. A key feature of

Inuit existence was the ability to vary social group

size and composition in accordance with seasonal

variations in resource availability and distribu-

tion. Snow is a flexible building material that

would have allowed for the rapid addition or de-

molition of rooms as friendships and partnerships

were formed and dissolved, or as friends and rel-

atives arrived and departed from camps. Mathi-

assen (1928) provides an illustration of a second

Iglulik Inuit snow house (Fig. 9A) occupied by

members of the same extended family as Fig. 9B,

yet built one month later, following the departure

of three families. Analysis of the smaller structure

indicates that even though it possesses a higher

average RRA value (1.2689), indicating greater

control over movement, all family living areas are

situated at the same level of integration (Fig. 9C).

In contrast, while the larger five family house has

a lower RRA value, family living areas are hier-

archically distributed along a different sequence of

integration (Fig. 9D). Social dynamics would have

likely been more complex among five families than

among three. Under such conditions, it would

have been necessary to reorganize social interfaces

between family members as a response to emerg-

ing scalar stress. The concept of scalar stress was

first formalized by Johnston (1982) who noted

that as small groups increase in size, face to face

contact increases to the point where the amount of

information being exchanged between individuals

rapidly exceeds what they are able to process. This

leads to disputes, a decrease in the quality of de-

cision-making, and factionalism. One of the ways

that groups deal with scalar stress is by increasing

the degree of social hierarchy. Among the Iglulik

Inuit, this might have been accomplished by in-

tensifying naalaqtuq directives promoting respect–

obedience (reflected spatially in the differential

accessibility of family living areas), and ungayuq

directives promoting affectional solidarity and

emotional closeness (reflected spatially in the

lower RRA value). It is important to remember

that the original five families could have con-

structed two or more smaller houses to avoid such

complications, yet they all opted to live commu-

nally within a single structure. In this way, Iglulik

Inuit snow houses can be seen as classes of

buildings that behave more like settlements than

houses, and this further distinguishes them from

other styles of Inuit architecture.

In summary, as integration and cohesion in

social structure varied among Central Inuit cul-

tures as one moved from west to east, so too did

the properties of scale, integration, and real rela-

tive asymmetry in snow house architecture. The

importance of kinship as an organizing principle

increased between groups as did the solidarity of

the extended family. This translates spatially into

larger numbers of domes, increasing use of com-

munal spaces, and the occasional use of rings or

circuits. Behavioral directives based on respect–

obedience (naalaqtuq) were most strongly ex-

pressed among the Iglulik Inuit. This translates

into different sequences of integration within the

configuration, leading to variation in the relative

accessibility of spaces in the Iglulik Inuit snow

house. Seasonal changes in family composition

also appear to have resulted in different spatial

expressions of naalaqtuq and ungayuq behavioral

directives, perhaps as a means of coping with

scalar stress. These conclusions have important

implications for understanding culture change in

the Canadian Arctic.

Implications for Canadian Arctic prehistory

Contemporary Inuit are the cultural and bio-

logical descendants of Thule peoples who arrived

in the Canadian Arctic from the Bering Strait

region about 1000 years ago. The principal winter

house form used by Thule peoples was the semi-

subterranean house. Constructed from sod, stone,

and occasionally the bones of large baleen whales,

these houses took on three basic architectural

forms based on the number of family living areas:

single-lobed, bi-lobed, and tri-lobed. All three

types of houses were excavated into mounds

which were occupied separately or in conjunction

with other dwellings. Semi-subterranean dwellings

that shared mounds were sometimes co-joined;

either by connecting the entrance tunnel, or by

using a transitional or common space to integrate

the living areas of two or three families. Large tri-

lobed or clover leaf-shaped dwellings appear to

date later than single-lobed and bi-lobed forms

(Figs. 10A and B) (Schledermann, 1975, p. 276).

The adoption of these composite house forms

seems to correlate with the onset of cooler climatic

conditions in the 16th century, which eventually

resulted in the abandonment of bowhead whaling

in the Central Arctic (Maxwell, 1985; McGhee,

1983; Savelle, 1987; Savelle and McCartney, 1991;

Schledermann, 1975). Various explanations for

the development of communal houses in areas of

the Central Arctic, Labrador, and Greenland have

been suggested. The principal arguments have


focused on the need to conserve building materials

and heat energy (Schledermann, 1976), an in-

crease in food sharing within the household

(Petersen, 1974), and socio-economic factors as-

sociated with European contact (Richling, 1993).

The appearance of communal dwellings at sites

such as Haa Island, at the head of Hayes Fiord,

Ellesmere Island, suggests that the term illuq—

meaning ‘‘related house mate of my generation’’

may have originated in Late Thule times, follow-

ing the adoption of tri-lobate dwellings in the 16th

century in areas like Ellesmere Island. Illuq reflects

a merging of cousin terms (Sperry, 1952, pp. 15–

16; Stevenson, 1997, p. 315; Thalbitzer, 1941, p.

721) and was used by the Angamasilik of Green-

land following the introduction of communal

houses in the 16th century (Thalbitzer, 1941).

In many ways, the construction of large tri-lo-

bed dwellings by later Thule peoples reflect forms

of spatial configuration that are not dissimilar to

those discussed earlier among the Copper, Netsi-

lik, and Iglulik Inuit. Tri-lobed dwellings represent

increases in scale and integration over earlier

Thule house forms because they contain larger

numbers of bounded living spaces and utilize

communal spaces. The use of communal spaces to

connect the living areas of families differs from the

simple connection of entrance tunnels because

they provide a communal area for social encoun-

ters and group activities. Communal spaces also

afford a means of observing the actions of other

resident families. In contrast, the interconnection

of entrance tunnels tends to segregate rather than

integrate families because the living spaces of each

family are bounded and unobservable. Changes in

the scale and integration of later Thule dwellings

therefore imply increasing integration and cohe-

sion in social structure. This may have involved the

intensification of kinship ties as primary organiz-

ing principles and might explain the increased level

of architectural investment represented by Late

Thule tri-lobed dwelling. While large composite

snow houses could be constructed in the matter of

a day, tri-lobed semi-subterranean dwellings

would have required considerably greater expen-

ditures of time, labor, and raw materials (Dawson,

2001, p. 456). Rather than the opportunistic and

impermanent pattern of occupation observed by

Jenness (1922) in Copper Inuit composite snow

houses, building with greater investment may have

motivated resident families to re-occupy their

dwellings over longer periods of time. The inte-

gration of families through primary kin ties rather

than solely through partnerships and voluntary

associations would have facilitated these more

stable patterns of co-residence. This might explain

why communal spaces were used simply as fore

porches for household activities in Late Thule tri-

lobed dwellings and not as dance houses, as was

more common in Copper Inuit snow houses. In the

absence of well-developed kin ties, Copper Inuit

families may have had to rely on the communal

activities embodied in the dance house (singing/

dancing partnerships) as a means of increasing the

social cohesion necessary for co-residence.

Fig. 10. Thule winter house with 1 sleeping platform

from Skraeling Island (A) (McCullough, 1989, p. 27);

and a later Thule winter house with three sleeping

platforms (B) (Schledermann, 1975, p. 276). ‘‘SP’’ de-

notes locations of sleeping platforms.


While hierarchically distributed living spaces

are largely absent in semi-subterranean tri-lobed

dwellings, a few examples are known. These in-

clude two houses from Skraeling Island which

were joined together using a short passage

(McCullough, 1989, p. 46). A single entrance

tunnel required that individuals pass through the

living space of one family in order to gain access

to the other. While these types of houses appear to

have been rare at Thule sites, they nevertheless

demonstrate that building living spaces along

different sequences of integration in semi-subter-

ranean houses was indeed possible. The fact that

they are rare suggests that naalaqtuq-like behav-

ioral directives were either absent or only weakly

expressed in Thule households.

To summarize, increases in scale and integra-

tion observed in Late Thule architecture are sim-

ilar to those observed in Central Inuit snow house

architecture. Space syntax theory predicts that

these similarities represent the emergence of lar-

ger, more integrated, and cohesive households in

Late Thule culture. This may have involved a

greater emphasis on kinship factors as central

organizing principles in Late Thule households.

Hierarchically distributed living spaces are largely

absent in semi-subterranean dwellings, suggesting

that naalaqtuq-like directives were only weakly

expressed. Taken together, this would imply that

early Thule households were generally smaller and

less socially integrated than later Thule house-

holds.

Conclusions

In conclusion, the results of this study reveal

that differences in Central Inuit social structure

are reflected in the spatial configuration of Copper

Inuit, Netsilik Inuit, and Iglulik Inuit snow

houses. An increasing emphasis on extended

families, kinship as an organizing principle and

behavioral directives stressing respect and obedi-

ence translate into differences in scale, integration,

and spatial asymmetry. Increases in scale and in-

tegration also distinguish early from late Thule

winter houses and suggest the emergence of close-

knit extended families with stable patterns of co-

residence that were unified through the intensifi-

cation of kinship ties.

Space syntax approaches have the potential to

shed new light on the relationship between house

form and culture in both the recent and distant

past. This can be accomplished by first determin-

ing how socio-political behavior is expressed

spatially in the ethnographic and ethnohistoric

record, and then searching for similar patterns in

the archaeological record. Future research will

focus on broadening the scope of this study to

include a wider range of Inuit house forms; in-

vestigating, for example, how seasonal variations

in Inuit social dynamics might have been ex-

pressed spatially among dwellings used at specific

points on the seasonal round. By examining the

architectural record of Inuit cultures of the past

and present, we may be able to discern whether

there are enduring patterns of household and

community behavior that can be identified in

different parts of the Canadian Arctic, and whe-

ther changes can be seen in these patterns across

time and space. Almost a century has passed since

Mauss and Beauchat (1979 [1906]) first suggested

that social processes were reflected in traditional

Inuit architecture. While the snow house is the

most archaeologically elusive of Inuit house

forms, space syntax may provide archaeologists

and anthropologists with an opportunity to revisit

some of these intriguing ideas.

Acknowledgments

The author would like to thank Charles

Arnold, Gerald Oetelaar, Peter Schledermann,

A. Kate Peach, and two anonymous reviewers for

their valuable comments, suggestions, and ideas

on earlier versions of this manuscript. The author

assumes all responsibility for any errors in this

paper.

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