Mikel Herrán (Zaragoza, 1991) is an archaeologist, researcher, and one of the most prominent voices on social media in Spain regarding scientific and heritage outreach. He holds a degree in Archaeology from the Universidad Complutense de Madrid and a Master’s in the Archaeology of the Arab and Islamic World from University College London (UCL), completed at its Qatar campus (UCLQ), with a doctoral thesis focused on identity and memory processes in medieval Islamic archaeological contexts in the Iberian Peninsula.
With a strong international academic background, Herrán has worked on archaeological projects in various countries in Europe and the Middle East. However, his public profile has been especially boosted by his outreach work on social media, YouTube, and other digital platforms, where he has successfully brought archaeological knowledge closer to a broad, young, and non-specialist audience.
His direct, inclusive, and critically engaged style has made him a key voice in the debate on the social role of archaeology. In April 2025, he visited Menorca to give a lecture at Ateneu de Maó and took the opportunity to tour several Talayotic sites on the island, accompanied by the director of the Talayotic Menorca Agency, Antoni Ferrer, and the archaeology professor at the Universidad de Granada, Margarita Orfila.
What motivated you to specialize in archaeology, and more specifically, in heritage outreach?
I’ve always been interested in how people lived. As a child, I liked history, sure, but I remember I enjoyed going to archaeological sites much more, where I could see everyday things. I think that beyond the grand narratives, we can learn a lot about past and present societies by looking at how we move through the world and interact with material culture, with the things we leave behind. My desire to do outreach came much later, and it mainly stemmed from frustration after attending academic conferences and noticing a huge gap between specialised knowledge and what society (even my parents) thinks archaeology is or what the past was like. I thought I could try to help bridge that gap and make the past more accessible to everyone.
You recently visited Menorca to speak at Ateneu de Maó. What was the focus of your talk, and how was it received by the local audience?
I discussed the need to communicate multiple pasts, that is, trying to move beyond our biases and assumptions when we look at the past and stepping away from the same old protagonists. I am particularly interested in the history and archaeology of gender and sexual dissidence, which can be traced as far back as the prehistoric period. I had a great, constructive, and fascinating conversation with Maiti, who invited me, and the audience was fantastic. I think many people have felt excluded from the narratives and reconstructions we make of the past. There’s been a tendency to assume that there’s only one story, but in doing so we leave out a huge number of people starting with women, who, despite making up half the population, are surprisingly absent from mainstream historical narratives, but also enslaved people, people with disabilities, children, sex workers... These groups are often reduced to a footnote or completely forgotten.
During your stay, you visited several sites of the Talayotic Menorca. What is your general assessment of these heritage sites?
I have to admit I knew almost nothing about Menorca’s Prehistory. I was incredibly lucky to have Antoni and Maiti guide me on a short but intense tour to help me better understand how these societies evolved over the centuries. I obviously knew about the talayots as watchtowers, but I loved discovering the variety of structures, their control of the landscape and space, and their religious practices. I think Menorca’s archaeological richness is almost overwhelming, and I wish I could have stayed longer to explore and enjoy it more.
Was there any site or particular element that especially surprised you?
I was especially surprised by
Torre d’en Galmés due to its size and the size of the dwellings. I had no prior knowledge of the Talayotic domestic world, and the way the houses are built, the materials used, and how the domestic space is organised seemed totally unique at least compared to the contexts I’m familiar with. But if I had to highlight one overarching aspect of Talayotic culture that struck me, it would be its relationship with the sea and with death. The fact that an island culture doesn’t seem to occupy or bury its dead along the coastline in its early period raised many questions for me about the meanings the sea might hold when you are entirely surrounded by it.
How would you describe the uniqueness of Talayotic heritage compared to other Mediterranean archaeological landscapes?
I think what stands out most is how well it is preserved and how present it is. The association between landscape and settlement is common in pre-industrial societies, but in the Talayotic case, the interconnectedness of the talayots and sites reveals a densely populated and intensively used landscape, and societies that, even if we don’t see stark inequality, must have been complex. In that sense, Talayotic culture challenges many of our assumptions about what kinds of societies can build monuments or organise themselves in complex ways.
What significance do you think the UNESCO World Heritage designation of Menorca Talayótica has?
I think beyond granting visibility to this unique heritage, hopefully it can raise awareness about the need to protect it and secure the necessary funding for professionals and institutions to do so. Also, given that the Balearic Islands are often seen mainly as beach destinations, UNESCO recognition can help showcase Menorca’s rich history and culture (and hopefully that of the islands more broadly). Ideally, the designation will also highlight the value of Menorca’s landscape and make it clear that cultural and natural heritage go hand in hand.
From your perspective as a communicator, what strategies do you think can boost international awareness of this legacy?
I think Menorca already has an international presence, and heritage can be a way to enrich and grow that visibility. Menorca isn’t appealing solely for its beaches or nature, but for a landscape where natural and human elements are inseparable. The Talayotic remains are scattered across the island’s landscape. In that sense, creating routes that integrate both the natural and cultural aspects seems essential to highlight the island’s unique richness.
What role do you think public archaeology and communication can play in heritage preservation in contexts like Menorca?
In a context at risk of being overtaken by mass tourism, public archaeology can be a great way to balance the local with the global. In other words, you can have heritage that draws attention beyond just the beaches, but also promotes responsible tourism, visitors who want to understand more about the place and its local culture. On the other hand, heritage can also be a unifying force for the people who live and work on Menorca, reinforcing the idea that there are deep roots, without excluding anyone. Menorca has been inhabited for millennia, and its people have been part of Mediterranean history, living in many different ways.
You are a key figure in archaeological outreach, particularly on digital platforms. What led you to choose these channels to communicate the past?
When I first considered doing outreach, it was directly through social media. I believed it was the easiest way to reach more people and to explain things my own way. It gave me freedom, and if it didn’t work, at least I knew no one would have seen it and I’d still have tried. It was a creative outlet for me. I don’t think social media is a world apart, and I’ve been lucky that over time I’ve also entered more traditional media. But that would’ve been impossible if I hadn’t first been experimenting, succeeding and failing in the safe space of my home, talking to my phone.
In an age of information overload and social media, how can we capture the general public’s attention for complex topics like archaeology?
I think everyday details are a great way in. Everyone eats, washes, sleeps, poops… things that don’t seem important but have changed a lot over time. And when you show people that the way we do things today hasn’t always been this way—or that it’s a recent development—I think you’ve got their attention. Making people ask questions is a great way to spark curiosity, and from there, you can start to talk about deeper, more complex issues beyond the anecdote.
What challenges do you face in scientific communication compared to traditional academic research?
The biggest challenge is the speed and rhythm. Academic research also comes with pressure to publish, but you’re generally writing within your area of expertise. In outreach, people sometimes expect you to know and talk about everything, especially when a hot topic breaks in the news. And as a communicator, you often feel compelled to respond. But there’s not always time to research or to organise your thoughts. Also, as an archaeologist, I sometimes forget that I’m speaking to a general audience and assume some terms or ideas are “common knowledge”, but they’re not. That happens a lot, and I only realise it when someone asks.