High in the Alpine foothills, where winds sweep across glacial valleys and where stone shelters cling to the mountainsides, archaeologists have uncovered a habit so familiar it transcends time: chewing gum. But this was no mint-flavored modern treat. Five thousand years ago, early Europeans chewed glossy black lumps of birch bark tar—sticky, aromatic material that has now become one of the most intimate forms of prehistoric evidence ever found.
This revelation comes from the study “Ancient DNA and biomarkers from artefacts: insights into technology and cultural practices in Neolithic Europe,” conducted by Anna E. White and colleagues and published in Proceedings of the Royal Society B, 15 October 2025. What researchers initially believed to be tool-making residue turned out to be something far more personal: chewed bits of tar, carrying ancient fingerprints of human behavior embedded in saliva.
The Alpine tar pieces were originally catalogued as adhesives used for hafting stone tools, a common practice in prehistoric Europe. Birch bark tar, produced by heating the bark in a low-oxygen environment, forms a durable, waterproof glue. But many of the pieces recovered from Alpine sites bore features that did not match adhesive use. They were small, pliable, and marked by unmistakable human bite impressions. Some had been kneaded between teeth until softened, then discarded.
Oldest Chewing Habit in Europe
For White and the research team, these bite marks became a portal into prehistoric daily life. Each piece offered biological data rarely preserved in such clarity. By extracting ancient human DNA, the researchers identified the sex and ancestry of multiple individuals, including children. Even the oral bacteria sealed inside the tar helped reconstruct aspects of health and diet, such as signs of gum inflammation or microbial imbalance.
In several cases, the tar lumps appeared to have been chewed not as part of tool production, but simply as a habit. They bore no adhesive residue, no traces of being applied to wood or bone. Instead, they looked strikingly similar to modern wads of chewing gum.
Why prehistoric Alpine communities chewed birch tar remains a subject of active investigation. Softening the tar for adhesive purposes was undoubtedly one reason, especially for adults engaged in crafting tools. But other possibilities emerge from the Alpine evidence. Birch tar contains natural antiseptic and pain-relieving compounds, suggesting its use as a remedy for toothaches or mouth irritation. Children, whose bite marks appear in several samples, may have chewed it for play, curiosity, or simply to mimic adults. Others might have done it out of habit—an idle action performed while resting, walking, or waiting for tasks to finish.
“When you analyze a chewed lump of tar and realize a child held it between their teeth thousands of years ago, it changes the way you think about the past,” White explain. “You stop imagining prehistory as faceless. You start imagining personalities.”
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The Alpine environment adds a unique backdrop to this discovery. These communities lived in demanding landscapes shaped by steep terrain, harsh winters, and shifting glaciers. Their survival depended on an intimate understanding of fire, wood, and natural materials. The birch trees they harvested for tar were more than a source of adhesive. They were part of a technological tradition deeply tied to their environment.
Chemical analyses in the study revealed distinct biomarker signatures that helped determine how the tar was produced. Some pieces were heated thoroughly, resulting in high-quality adhesive. Others were produced more casually or without the same level of heat control, suggesting diverse methods and purposes. These variations reflect a richly textured technological landscape in which tar was both a tool and a personal object.
The presence of children’s DNA in several samples paints an especially vivid picture. In one piece, researchers detected the genetic signature of a young girl alongside oral microbes typical of childhood gum irritation. Such details bring to life a moment when a child chewed tar at the edge of an Alpine camp, watching adults work or passing time in the crisp mountain air. These findings humanize the archaeological record in ways stone tools and pottery shards rarely can.
“In archaeology, we often focus on the spectacular—settlements, weapons, monuments,” White noted. “But habits like chewing tar remind us that prehistoric people were human in the same small, ordinary ways we are. They probably chewed to relax, to focus, to ease discomfort. It’s a behavior that feels universal.”
What fascinates researchers most is the degree of intimacy preserved in these fragments. Unlike weapons or crafted ornaments, chewed tar represents a small private action—a person using their teeth to soften a material, to soothe discomfort, or simply to keep busy. It captures a fleeting moment, frozen for millennia in the cool soils of the Alps.
Prehistoric Chewing Gum in Europe
This discovery also aligns with a broader pattern across prehistoric Europe. Chewed birch tar has been found at sites in Scandinavia, the British Isles, and the Baltic region, some dating as far back as 9,000 years. The Alpine findings add new depth to this history, showing that the habit persisted into later periods and existed even in remote high-altitude environments. Across continents and centuries, chewing sticky natural substances—whether resin, pitch, spruce gum, or birch tar—appears to be a widespread human behavior, one that predates modern chewing gum by thousands of years.
In the Alpine context, this habit offers a rare personal thread running through an otherwise stone-and-bone archaeological record. It reminds us that alongside hunting, crafting, migrating, and surviving harsh winters, ancient people shared a small, relatable habit: they chewed. For reasons practical, medicinal, or simply habitual, the act of chewing birch bark tar is woven into the long human story written across Europe’s mountains.
The chewed tar of the Alps survives as a quiet testimony to this continuity—a trace of breath, teeth, rhythm, and daily life preserved through time. As researchers continue to uncover these intimate fragments, the story of prehistoric chewing stretches further into the past, revealing a behavior that once helped shape life in the mountains long before modern gum ever existed. (Wage Erlangga)
