The island of Rapa Nui, also known as Easter Island, is famous for its moai. These giant, anthropomorphic monoliths have long puzzled anthropologists, driving extensive research into their construction. A new study challenges a widely held assumption about how the moai came to stand watch over this remote Pacific island.
Experts believe Polynesian communities began carving the moai in the 13th century. Sculpting and moving hundreds of these statues—the largest of which stands 66 feet (20 meters) tall and weighs 90 tons (82 metric tons)—was an incredible engineering feat. It’s difficult to imagine that this could have been possible without some sort of hierarchical management, but research published Wednesday in the journal PLOS One suggests that was the case.
The findings reveal “a sophisticated alternative to hierarchical organization,” lead author Carl Philipp Lipo, a professor of anthropology at Binghamton University, told Gizmodo in an email. “Labor was self-organizing rather than commanded.”
Ancient practices revealed with modern tech
Lipo and his colleagues used drones to collect over 11,000 images of the primary moai quarry, Rano Raraku. They then used structure-from-motion photogrammetry to create a 3D model of the site by overlapping the 2D images.
Rano Raraku contains hundreds of moai preserved in various stages of completion. Analyzing this model revealed 30 different quarrying zones, each one functioning as a distinct extraction area with clear boundaries rather than one continuous operation, according to Lipo.
These independent workstations contained evidence to suggest that the entire production process—from first cutting into the bedrock to carving the statue’s finishing touches—took place within individual zones. The analysis also revealed variations in production techniques, moai proportions, and stylistic details between zones, pointing to separate traditions maintained by distinct social groups.
“These patterns suggest that moai construction, like broader Rapa Nui society, was not organized by central management,” Lipo said.
Rethinking Rapa Nui’s history
The findings paint a picture of moai production that is better aligned with our understanding of the Rapa Nui people. Archaeological evidence strongly suggests that this society was not politically unified but consisted of small, independent family groups.
“Each quarrying zone likely represents an extended family or territorial community working autonomously,” Lipo explained. “The small crew sizes needed for transport (18-20 people based on experimental archaeology) align perfectly with extended kin groups.”
At the same time, the findings add to a growing body of evidence that undermines the longstanding belief that Rapa Nui society collapsed around 1600. Experts previously interpreted the island’s widespread deforestation and unfinished moai as signs that the human population had outgrown its resources and died out, but this new study tells a different story.
“Our findings at Rano Raraku and in other studies we’ve done over the past 25 years fundamentally rewrite the temporal narrative of Rapa Nui, replacing a story of rise-and-fall with one of continuous adaptation and persistence,” Lipo said. “The ‘unfinished’ moai at Rano Raraku aren’t evidence of a sudden catastrophe but normal quarry operations.”
The implications of this study extend far beyond archaeology, shedding light on fundamental questions about human cooperation and social organization. The findings not only demonstrate that humans can achieve remarkable feats without hierarchical organization, but also that societies can develop sustainable, peaceful, and culturally rich ways of life, according to Lipo.
