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April 6, 2025 | Last updated: 9 June 2025 | Author: Jack @LostWorldMap

The Mohs scale, created by mineralogist Friedrich Mohs in 1812, measures the hardness of materials using ten minerals, from talc (hardness 1) to diamond (hardness 10). Each mineral can scratch the one before it and is scratched by the one after it. The scale only provides an indication of hardness, without accounting for significant variations between adjacent minerals.

Minerals that make up the Mohs scale: The minerals Mohs used to create his scale are as follows:

  1. Talc – absolute hardness 1
  2. Gypsum – absolute hardness 2
  3. Calcite – absolute hardness 14
  4. Fluorite – absolute hardness 21
  5. Apatite – absolute hardness 48
  6. Orthoclase – absolute hardness 72
  7. Quartz – absolute hardness 100
  8. Topaz – absolute hardness 200
  9. Corundum – absolute hardness 400
  10. Diamond – absolute hardness 1500

On the left, we can read the level of hardness attributed by Mohs on the scale, from 1 to 10. On the right, the number refers to the absolute hardness, a crucial value for understanding the next part of this article. For now, it is enough to understand that if we say quartz has a hardness of 7, it doesn’t mean it is seven times harder than talc, but 100 times harder (based on the absolute hardness). The data is cited from Wikipedia, referencing Applied Mineralogy: Applications in Industry and Environment by Swapna Mukherjee.

Enigmatic Aspects of the Ancient Builders

Keeping in mind the Mohs scale and applying a logic of progressive civilization development, along with knowledge, skills, and capabilities, one would expect to find works of increasing complexity over the generations. One would never expect the creation of more majestic works to be abandoned in favor of more crude ones, since the advancement of knowledge and practice should correspond to a simplification of the analysis, design, and execution processes, thus ensuring at least the maintenance of quality.

Yet, in many parts of the world, we encounter the opposite situation, where we generally see recurring elements such as:

  • The civilization of period X claims that the works attributed to them actually belong to their predecessors of period Y. These works are often associated with their cultural traditions linked to the sky or deities. This is the case, for example, with the Incas, who were questioned about this by the conquistadors.
  • Or, a common occurrence in Egypt, is the appropriation of the work of those who came before them by their descendants. For instance, they would chip away the name of a previous pharaoh and carve in their own.
  • In Egypt, there is also an observed sudden decline in the quality and quantity of works made after those attributed to the Fourth Dynasty. In the later periods, we see pyramids crumbling in the desert sands, and others, after the incredible geometric measurements of, for example, the Great Pyramid, with the point at a different angle from the base.
  • Another recurring case involves stone layers: it is common to find perfectly constructed stone wall layers made using the so-called megalithic and polygonal technique, with above them – supposedly by the same builders – much coarser layers.
  • This often happens with sarcophagi as well, where the perfect and polished work on granite is followed by highly inaccurate carvings, leading historians to recklessly attribute authorship to them. We will soon delve deeper with an article about the Serapeum at Saqqara.
  • A similar case concerns Egyptian pottery, which, after the Old Kingdom period, saw alabaster become widespread in place of diorite and granite, along with terracotta and clay.

Different layers: the older ones are perfect, and the more recent ones – which we know to be Incan – are not

Machu Picchu Layers

In the image above, we can clearly observe two different hands. The first, the oldest, capable of moving megalithic stones to the top of Machu Picchu, carving them in a three-dimensional polygonal interlocking pattern, without even the slightest gap today. In the upper part of the wall, the Incas added smaller stones that do not fit perfectly. Exactly what we would always expect to find from ancient civilizations.

Although it may seem like a forced hypothesis, there are now hundreds of hours of videos online where you can observe the work of these different hands—older than the more modern ones—in various parts of the world.

Image taken from the video Machu Picchu Majesty by Brien Foerster – thanks for the permission granted.

Different materials to create precise layers, in the minds of the ancient builders

The third Pyramid of Giza

In the image, we see the base of the so-called Pyramid of Menkaure. The blocks we observe are made of pink granite and are placed above the softer stone, which we typically imagine was used to build the pyramids: the classic rectangular blocks. With granite, we are between 6 and 7 on the Mohs scale, yet we still attempt to accept that they were worked with copper. Consider what it means to believe that the Egyptians built—for example—the Third Pyramid of the Giza Plateau using only blocks of “soft stone,” and then add the complexity of granite to the task. This would multiply the hardness of the stone by 50. Also, we can notice the so-called protrusions or knobs, which are found all over the world. If we were to show, and this has been done, close-up shots from Egypt, Turkey, Central and South America, Japan, and many other countries, no one would be able to tell them apart. These protrusions are a feature that seems senseless to us, yet evidently— we must acknowledge— they are necessary and common to many civilizations.

Copper, the hardest metal available in ancient Egypt, has a hardness of about 3 on the Mohs scale, while granite, basalt, and diorite are between 6 and 7. Additionally, it’s important to consider that granite is made up of minerals with different hardness levels, including:

  • Quartz (hardness 7 on the Mohs scale): one of the hardest minerals in granite
  • Feldspar (hardness 6 on Mohs): another common mineral in granite
  • Mica (hardness 2-3 on Mohs): softer than quartz and feldspar

This means that by applying the appropriate force to its surface, even assuming the use of a sufficiently hard chisel or saw, it would be likely to encounter discrepancies and inaccuracies, if not actual breakages in the stone, due to the significant hardness differences among the minerals that make up granite.

If we insist on maintaining the conventional idea that the Egyptians created works like the ones we see in the figure, using copper tools and desert sand, something doesn’t add up. In addition to the hardness of the material required to scratch a granite work, we must also consider the millimetric precision, or rather precision down to 0.4 microns, as explained in this article on pre-dynastic and Old Kingdom vases.

Image taken from the video The Tiny Ancient Artifacts Changing History! by UnchartedX, with thanks for the permission granted.

Pre-dynastic Egyptian granite vessel, so thin that it lets torchlight pass through it.

Conclusions

In this article, we explored the relationship between the Mohs scale, ancient stoneworking techniques, and the anomalies that seem to emerge when examining archaeological remains. The hardness of materials, as measured by the Mohs scale, provides us with a fundamental tool for understanding the technical challenges that ancient builders would have had to face. However, archaeological evidence and extraordinary achievements, such as those from Egypt and pre-Columbian civilizations, seem to go against a linear progression of stoneworking techniques.

The discovery of sophisticated techniques, followed by an apparent decline in working abilities, suggests that, instead of a continuous technological evolution, some civilizations possessed knowledge and skills that are difficult for us to fully comprehend today. The use of primitive tools like copper to work hard stones such as granite and diorite, despite the evident technical difficulties, remains an open question.

In conclusion, if we truly want to understand the capabilities of ancient builders, we must avoid simplistic conclusions and superficial approaches. The anomalies that emerge from these studies are not temporal or accidental anomalies but rather clues to a deeper knowledge that, perhaps, we have forgotten or no longer wish to explore with the seriousness and curiosity it deserves. Yet, it seems that something is finally changing, with many independent researchers revisiting a more open approach, similar to that of 19th-century scholars.