Almost everything known about the crook and flail as physical objects, rather than as carved or painted images, comes from a single find: the pair recovered from Tutankhamun's tomb when Howard Carter opened it in 1922, the only crook and flail confirmed to survive from the whole of pharaonic history. A separate pair of gold hands, sewn onto the mummy's wrappings just below the golden mask, held a further crook and flail directly against the king's own chest, so the burial repeated the symbolism twice over, once carried loose in the tomb and once worn as an image on the body itself. The surviving staffs are built up over a plain core in alternating bands of gold sheet and blue glass, with the flail's beads carved and gilded separately, craftsmanship far beyond what a working shepherd's tool would ever need, itself evidence that by Tutankhamun's reign the objects had become pure regalia rather than anything resembling their working ancestors.
What the objects actually descend from remains debated among Egyptologists. Toby Wilkinson reads the flail as a herding tool for driving livestock, a mark of the ruler's coercive power translated from the pen to the nation. E. A. Wallis Budge argued instead for a threshing implement, tying the symbol to the harvest and the land's fertility. Percy Newberry proposed a tool for collecting labdanum resin, comparable to implements used by nineteenth century Cretan shepherds. No single reading has displaced the others, so the flail's exact original job stays an open question even though its later meaning, sovereign authority paired with the crook's shepherding, is not in dispute.