Someone chose to keep him alive, even at cost.
Cem mil anos antes de qualquer registo escrito, um ser humano adoeceu, perdeu o equilíbrio e a audição, e sobreviveu meses apenas porque outros decidiram sustentá-lo. Investigadores da Universidade de Coimbra identificaram, num crânio fóssil descoberto em Marrocos, um dos casos mais antigos de surdez adquirida na nossa espécie — diagnosticado através de tomografia micro-CT aplicada a um espécime com cerca de 100.000 anos. O que a tecnologia revelou não foi apenas uma doença, mas um gesto: o de uma comunidade que optou por não abandonar quem já não conseguia caçar nem sobreviver sozinho.
- Um fóssil guardado durante décadas escondia uma doença devastadora: a ossificação dos canais semicirculares teria privado este indivíduo do equilíbrio, da audição e da capacidade de sobreviver de forma autónoma.
- Para um caçador-recolector, perder a mobilidade e a orientação no terreno equivalia a uma sentença — e ainda assim este indivíduo viveu meses após o início da doença.
- A sobrevivência prolongada implica uma conclusão incómoda e comovente: alguém alimentou, protegeu e acompanhou este membro do grupo quando ele deixou de poder contribuir.
- A investigação, publicada no International Journal of Paleopathology, é apenas o segundo caso documentado desta patologia em Homo sapiens do período caçador-recolector, sendo o outro o crânio de Singa, no Sudão.
- A descoberta reposiciona a tecnologia de imagem médica como ferramenta arqueológica e obriga a rever o que sabemos sobre saúde, deficiência e solidariedade nas sociedades pré-históricas.
Quase cinquenta anos depois de ter sido encontrado numa gruta marroquina, um crânio fóssil com cerca de 100.000 anos revelou um dos casos mais antigos de surdez adquirida na história da humanidade. O espécime, designado Dar-es-Soltane II H5, foi analisado por Dany Coutinho Nogueira, investigador do Centro de Investigação em Antropologia e Saúde da Universidade de Coimbra, com recurso a micro-CT — uma tecnologia de imagem de resolução muito superior à tomografia convencional.
Nogueira estudava os canais semicirculares do fóssil para determinar a que grupo humano pertencia, quando detectou algo inesperado: os canais estavam parcialmente ossificados, com formação óssea onde não deveria existir. O diagnóstico foi labyrinthitis ossificans, uma doença que calcifica as estruturas do ouvido interno, provocando vertigens, problemas graves de equilíbrio e perda progressiva de audição.
Para alguém que dependia da caça e da recolha para sobreviver, esta condição seria catastrófica. No entanto, a análise indica que o indivíduo sobreviveu vários meses após o início da doença — o que levanta uma questão inevitável: como? Sem capacidade de caçar ou de se orientar no terreno, não poderia ter sobrevivido sozinho. Alguém teve de o alimentar, proteger e sustentar durante esse tempo.
Este é apenas o segundo caso documentado desta patologia em Homo sapiens do período caçador-recolector. O outro é o crânio de Singa, descoberto no Sudão em 1924 e estudado cientificamente em 1998. Juntos, representam os dois registos mais antigos de surdez adquirida na nossa espécie.
Além do valor clínico e arqueológico, a investigação — publicada no International Journal of Paleopathology — lança uma luz diferente sobre a pré-história. Sugere que as nossas comunidades ancestrais não só eram capazes de compaixão, como possuíam estruturas sociais que permitiam agir sobre ela: decidir, coletivamente, que um membro incapacitado merecia continuar a viver. Dar-es-Soltane II H5 morreu meses depois de adoecer. Mas não morreu só.
Nearly fifty years after its discovery in a Moroccan cave, a fossil skull has revealed one of humanity's oldest cases of acquired deafness. The specimen, designated Dar-es-Soltane II H5 and roughly 100,000 years old, was examined by researchers at the University of Coimbra using micro-CT scanning—a hospital-grade imaging technology with far sharper resolution than standard CT scans. What they found in the temporal bone, the dense structure housing the inner ear, told a story of disease, survival, and something more: evidence that ancient hunter-gatherers cared for their disabled members.
Dany Coutinho Nogueira, the lead researcher at Coimbra's Center for Research in Anthropology and Health, was studying the semicircular canals—the organs responsible for balance and hearing—to determine which human group the fossil belonged to. The morphology of these structures differs between Homo sapiens and Neanderthals, making them a useful diagnostic tool. But as Nogueira examined the three-dimensional reconstruction of the canals, he noticed something unexpected: they were partially ossified, meaning bone had formed where it should not have been. The diagnosis was labyrinthitis ossificans, a disease that causes the inner ear structures to harden and calcify.
For a hunter-gatherer, this condition would have been catastrophic. The ossification of the semicircular canals and cochlea produces severe balance problems, dizziness, vertigo, and progressive hearing loss. A person afflicted with it would struggle to hunt, to navigate terrain, to locate food sources—the basic survival skills that kept a foraging band alive. Yet the fossil evidence suggests this individual did not die immediately. Nogueira's analysis indicates the person survived several months after the disease began, a timeline that raises a crucial question: how?
The answer lies in what the skeleton does not tell us directly. Without the ability to hunt or forage independently, the individual could not have survived those months alone. Someone—or several someones—must have provided food, shelter, and protection. The group continued to feed a member who could no longer feed himself. They did not abandon him when he became a liability. This is not a small thing. It is evidence of social cohesion, of a decision made collectively to sustain life even when that life had become dependent.
Nogueira emphasizes that only two Homo sapiens fossils from the hunter-gatherer era show evidence of this particular disease. The other is Singa, a skull discovered in Sudan in 1924 and studied scientifically in 1998. Together, they represent the two oldest documented cases of acquired deafness in our species. The rarity of the finding makes it all the more striking—not because deafness itself was rare, but because so few individuals with severe disabilities survived long enough to leave fossil evidence of their condition.
The research, published in the International Journal of Paleopathology, demonstrates something broader about how we understand the past. Modern imaging technology allows scientists to detect pathologies in ancient remains that would have been invisible to earlier researchers. A fossil examined decades ago can yield new information when subjected to new tools. But beyond the technical achievement, the study reshapes how we think about prehistoric life. It suggests that our ancestors possessed not just the capacity for compassion, but the social structures to enact it—to decide that a disabled member of the group was worth keeping alive, even at cost.
The individual known as Dar-es-Soltane II H5 died a few months after the disease took hold. We do not know the exact cause of death, whether from complications of the illness itself or from some other cause. What we know is that for those final months, he was not left to perish alone. In a world where survival depended on strength and mobility, someone chose otherwise.
Citas Notables
He could not have survived those months without help from other individuals, indicating the group provided care and support for at least several months.— Dany Coutinho Nogueira, lead researcher, University of Coimbra
This condition is very disabling for a hunter-gatherer, limiting the ability to hunt and find food.— Dany Coutinho Nogueira
La Conversación del Hearth Otra perspectiva de la historia
Why does it matter that we found deafness in a 100,000-year-old fossil? Couldn't ancient people have been deaf without leaving evidence?
Yes, absolutely. Most people with disabilities left no trace. But this person's inner ear bones actually changed shape from the disease—they ossified. That's visible in the fossil. It's rare enough that finding it tells us something.
Which is what?
That this person survived months after becoming severely disabled. In a hunter-gatherer band, that's not automatic. You can't hunt. You can't forage. You're a drain on resources. But the skeleton shows he lived on.
How do we know he lived on? Couldn't he have just died quickly?
The degree of ossification—how much bone had formed in the canals—suggests a progression over time. The disease didn't kill him overnight. It disabled him gradually, and he kept living.
And that means the group kept him alive.
It has to. There's no other explanation. Someone was feeding him, protecting him, keeping him with the band. That's a choice.
Is this the only evidence we have of ancient people caring for disabled members?
No, there are other signs scattered through the fossil record. But this is concrete—a specific disease, a specific survival timeline, a specific individual. It's harder to argue with.
What happens next with this research?
Other researchers will look at old fossils with fresh eyes, using the same imaging technology. There are probably other stories hidden in bone that we haven't seen yet.