Mad About Science: Tattoos

By Brenden Bobby
Reader Columnist

Everyone knows getting some sick ink is a painful process — you’re being stabbed repeatedly with a needle for hours on end — but have you ever wondered what makes tattoos permanent, and why we started getting them to begin with?

Yep.

The origin and purpose of skin art in human culture varies from place to place around the globe, so there is no singular answer for why we draw on our skin — but there is a singular answer for how we draw on our skin.

While it appears that you’re just drawing on your skin, the process behind the appearance of a tattoo is very interesting. An artist will use a specially adapted pen that will pierce your skin beneath the epidermis (the outer layer or membrane of your skin) and the dermis (the layer of skin that contains things like blood vessels and nerve endings, sweat glands and so on). This pen will spill a small amount of ink in this layer, and your body will immediately react by sending white blood cells to attack the invading ink. These white blood cells, called macrophages, will devour the ink and become stained themselves. Over time, these macrophages will wither and die, and a new wave of cells will come in to devour the dead, ink and all.

That lower back tattoo your fraternity brothers made you get after losing a bet your freshman year of college is a lot of work for your body.

So what about the history of tattoos? Humans have preserved parchment for several thousands of years, but many have been hesitant to preserve the corpses of their loved ones after death, especially when the skin is one of the first things to succumb to the process of decomposition.

Luckily for us, some extreme elements can help preserve macabre history for thousands of years.

The oldest direct evidence of tattoo art on a human body comes from the Ötzi, the so-called “Iceman,” a neolithic mummy that was preserved in the Ötztal Alps between Austria and Italy. Disturbing as it may be, his skin was remarkably well preserved, and scientists documented as many as 61 different tattoos on his body. Though none of them said “Mom” in a bleeding heart, they were likely of some form of cultural significance for his time — around 3200 BCE.

Getting a tattoo in a time before rubbing alcohol must have been an extremely dangerous practice — one reserved for only the most hardened and fearless members of early societies, as the chance of crippling full-body infection was high. In ancient Samoa, warriors and chieftains wore their ink with pride, as the entire process was made into a ceremony that could go on for weeks. Infection rates were high and excruciatingly painful, but those who survived the ordeal were held in extremely high regard.

Tattoos weren’t always a sign of how awesome someone was in history. In ancient Greece and Rome, people were marked with tattoos to designate their lot in life as warriors, beggars, traders or slaves. Rising through the ranks of the ancient world was made impossible on purpose; tattoos served as a permanent reminder of your status in society, and attempting to rise above that status was often met with dire consequences.

Ancient Egyptians are believed to have an interesting blend of modern and contemporary uses for tattoos. The royalty had themselves inked for decorative purposes, to show their superiority as well as appear similar to the gods they were trying to emulate. Priestesses of ancient Egypt were also extensively tattooed, though we aren’t entirely sure why. These were perhaps some form of ceremonial grading, similar to the colored belt system of many martial arts practices, that would show the level of dedication and experience of the priestess. Interestingly, very few — if any — male priests have been discovered with tattoos.

Japan has been a country with an intriguing history of tattoos. Throughout much of its history, tattoos were viewed as a status symbol. As in Samoa, powerful and important warriors would brandish tattoos to show their tolerance for excruciating pain as well as showcasing a living tapestry of their accolades. However, during the Meiji Reformation in the 1860s, the Japanese government outlawed tattoo art, which may have been a response to the incursion of Westerners in Japan around this era. This had the interesting effect of branding criminals and outlaws and buffering them from society. When you step into the part of town where everyone is sporting a multicolored sleeve, you know you have irrefutable proof that you’re walking into the bad part of town.

This stigma from the 1800s has persisted in Japanese culture into the modern day, as the Japanese mafia, known as the Yakuza, is often composed of heavily tattooed men who wear their art like gangs in the West fly colors: showing their affiliation to certain street gangs by wearing specifically colored clothing.

Tattoos have myriad meanings in America, as you well know. Certain tattoos in certain locations have very specific meanings. The teardrop tattoo is often touted by gang members to showcase how many people they’ve killed. University logos are common for young adults in college towns, repping their scholastic pride (often inspired by a few too many beers). Lower-back tattoos of the 1990s were often made with a sense of eroticism in mind. Written characters from China and Japan are also popular — particularly among caucasians with comically limited knowledge of what they’re putting on their body forever.

If you’re thinking about ink, just remember the most important thing about getting work done: It doesn’t matter what it will look like in 50 years, unless your artist egregiously misspells what he puts on your body.

No Regertz. Stay curious, 7B.