For centuries, the enigmatic knotted cords known as khipus have fascinated historians and archaeologists alike. These intricate bundles, used by the Inca Empire for record keeping, have long been shrouded in mystery—who made them, what exactly they recorded, and how their secrets might be unlocked. Now, a lock of human hair woven into one such khipu is upending old assumptions and rewriting the story of literacy and authorship in the largest pre-Columbian civilization of South America.
The Inca Empire, which flourished from around 1400 until its conquest by the Spanish in 1532, was a marvel of innovation. According to NPR, its achievements included the engineering of Machu Picchu, a vast road network, and sophisticated agricultural terraces. Yet perhaps nothing was more distinctive than its use of khipus—bundles of cords tied with knots in various patterns and colors—to record everything from census data to religious rituals and economic transactions.
For generations, scholars believed that only the highest-ranking officials, known as khipu kamayuq, were permitted to create these records. Colonial Spanish chroniclers described khipu makers as elite bureaucrats, enjoying the finest foods and drinks, and wielding exclusive authority over the empire’s information. The khipu kamayuq, whose title derives from a verb meaning "to energize matter," were thought to imbue their creations with personal vitality and spiritual essence—a trait reflected in Inca cosmology, where even a lock of hair could carry a person’s identity.
But new research led by Sabine Hyland at the University of St. Andrews is challenging this narrative. As reported by both The Conversation and NPR, Hyland’s team discovered compelling evidence that khipu literacy may have been far more inclusive than previously imagined. The breakthrough came with the analysis of a remarkable artifact, designated KH0631, whose primary cord is crafted entirely from human hair—measuring a striking 104 centimeters, or about three feet, in length. This cord represents over eight years of hair growth, offering a rare, tangible connection to its maker.
"Kit looked at me and said, 'Sabine, this primary cord is human hair,'" Hyland recalled to NPR, describing the moment the realization struck. Historically, the incorporation of hair in a khipu could serve as a kind of signature—a deeply personal marker of authorship. In the Inca tradition, hair was not just a biological remnant but a vessel of one’s essence. The emperor’s hair, for example, was preserved during his life and fashioned into a simulacrum for worship after his death, underscoring the spiritual weight attached to such relics.
Similar practices persist in the highland village of Jucul, Peru, where local families possess more than 90 ancestral khipus, some centuries old. There, villagers still attach locks of their own hair to khipus, signifying their responsibility for the information encoded. As described in The Conversation, such signatures are not limited to hair—objects of personal significance, like a leader’s insignia scarf, have also served to mark authorship on historic khipus.
What sets KH0631 apart, however, is not just the presence of human hair, but what that hair reveals. Using advanced isotopic analysis—measuring carbon, nitrogen, sulfur, oxygen, and hydrogen—the researchers were able to reconstruct aspects of the khipu maker’s diet and geographic origin. The results were surprising: the individual’s diet was predominantly plant-based, consisting mainly of tubers, greens, legumes, and grains, with little evidence of meat or maize. This pattern is characteristic of low-status commoners, not the maize- and meat-rich feasts of the Inca elite.
"It’s not really possible to escape drinking [maize beer]," Hyland told NPR, underscoring the ubiquity of this ritual staple among the ruling class. The absence of maize beer in the dietary signature further supports the conclusion that the khipu’s creator was not an elite official, but an ordinary person—someone whose story might otherwise have been lost to time.
Sulphur isotope analysis added another layer to the puzzle. It indicated little marine food in the diet, suggesting the individual lived in the highlands, at altitudes between 2,600 and 2,800 meters, likely in southern Peru or northern Chile. This is the first time isotopic analysis has been applied to khipu fibers, opening a new window into the biographies of these ancient record keepers.
The implications of these findings are profound. As The Conversation notes, the idea that only privileged officials could make or read khipus has shaped both academic and popular understandings of Inca society for generations. But the presence of a commoner’s signature in such a central and symbolic position challenges that orthodoxy. It suggests a more pluralistic system of record-keeping, where knowledge and authorship extended beyond the imperial bureaucracy.
This discovery also resonates with the practices of modern khipu makers. According to Kit Lee, quoted by NPR, contemporary khipus are often made by lower-status people—herders, laborers, and peasants—who use them for agricultural records or as funerary offerings. While scholars have long debated whether there is a direct lineage between ancient and modern khipus, the new evidence from KH0631 lends weight to the idea that khipu literacy was never as exclusive as colonial chroniclers claimed.
The study’s impact has rippled through the scholarly community. Manny Medrano, a Harvard University khipu researcher not involved in the project, called the analysis "unprecedented," noting that while human hair has been seen in khipus before, this is the only known Inca-era example with a primary cord made entirely of hair. "The main cord is really important in khipus," Medrano told NPR, adding that this approach could inspire a re-examination of the hundreds of khipus held in museum collections around the world. "Ultimately, this gets us closer to being able to tell Inca histories using Inca sources," he said. "We need to tell a story of literacy and of writing and of recordkeeping in the Inca Empire that is way more plural, that includes folks who have not been included in the standard narrative."
With this new evidence in hand, the story of the Inca khipu—once the exclusive domain of the powerful—now appears to be a tale of shared knowledge, personal signatures, and the enduring human urge to record, remember, and be remembered. The humble lock of hair in KH0631 has, quite literally, woven a new narrative into the fabric of history.
