tag:theconversation.com,2011:/id/topics/natural-history-6617/articles
Natural history – The Conversation
2024-03-15T17:34:45Z
tag:theconversation.com,2011:article/225844
2024-03-15T17:34:45Z
2024-03-15T17:34:45Z
This 18th-century shell collection, saved from a skip, tells a story of empire, explorers and women’s equality
<p>In the 1980s, a shell collection that included specimens from Captain Cook’s final voyage was accidentally thrown into a skip and believed lost forever. But much to the joy of scientists, last week it was <a href="https://www.theguardian.com/science/2024/mar/12/shells-from-captain-cooks-final-voyage-saved-from-skip">rediscovered safe and sound</a> and donated to English Heritage.</p>
<p>Her name might not have made the headlines, but the woman who originally collected the shells, Bridget Atkinson (1732-1814), made a significant contribution to natural history in the 18th century. </p>
<p>Atkinson was one of many women interested in shells at this time. It was a pursuit that drew in both aristocratic and middle class enthusiasts. Among them were famous collectors, such as the philosopher and poet <a href="https://www.paul-mellon-centre.ac.uk/publications/browse/9780300192230">Margaret Cavendish</a> and cousins Jane and Mary Parminter, the elite owners of the shell-encrusted house <a href="https://www.theguardian.com/travel/2012/nov/16/feminist-eccentric-home-devon">A la Ronde, in Exmouth</a>. </p>
<p>Collecting shells was a common past time in Enlightenment Britain. This was a period in which elite women were becoming <a href="https://books.google.co.uk/books?id=xZFNEAAAQBAJ&printsec=frontcover&dq=women+and+science+eighteenth+century&hl=en&newbks=1&newbks_redir=0&sa=X&redir_esc=y#v=onepage&q=women%20and%20science%20eighteenth%20century&f=false">increasingly interested in the sciences</a>, and they pursued its disciplines with wild enthusiasm. </p>
<p>This is demonstrated in the popularity of books such as <a href="https://maa.org/press/periodicals/convergence/mathematical-treasure-francesco-algarotti-s-newtonianism-for-the-ladies#:%7E:text=The%20book%20consists%20of%20a,Naples%20on%20the%20title%20page.">Newtonianism for Ladies</a> by Francesco Algarotti. Published in 1737, the book was a bestseller and reprinted many times as the 18th century progressed. </p>
<p>Botany and natural history were deemed particularly appropriate vehicles for women’s intellectual curiosity. Women engaged in these practices were encouraged to <a href="https://books.google.co.uk/books?id=I1LzDwAAQBAJ&printsec=frontcover&dq=women+and+science+eighteenth+century&hl=en&newbks=1&newbks_redir=0&sa=X&redir_esc=y#v=onepage&q=women%20and%20science%20eighteenth%20century&f=false">collect specimens, create displays and study related literature</a>, often written by female authors. </p>
<p>As a result, the early 19th century saw the publication of various natural history books written by women, such as <a href="https://books.google.co.uk/books?id=k0YyAQAAMAAJ&printsec=frontcover&source=gbs_book_other_versions_r&redir_esc=y#v=onepage&q&f=false">The Conchologist’s Companion</a> by Mary Roberts (1824), a series of letters on the properties of various types of shell.</p>
<h2>Atkinson’s collection</h2>
<p>While Atkinson wasn’t unusual as a woman collecting shells, the extent of her acquisitions sets them apart from many other collections of the period. She acquired as many as <a href="https://www.theguardian.com/science/2024/mar/12/shells-from-captain-cooks-final-voyage-saved-from-skip">1,200 shells</a> throughout her lifetime, with many sourced from far-flung regions across the globe. </p>
<p>Atkinson was from a wealthy and genteel, but not aristocratic, family, and as a result, she is not as well known as other shell collectors of the time. Nevertheless, her collection includes a number of important specimens of endangered and protected species. Many were amassed from her connection to George Dixon, an armourer on <a href="https://www.english-heritage.org.uk/visit/places/chesters-roman-fort-and-museum-hadrians-wall/history/bridget-atkinsons-shells/">Captain Cook’s third and final world voyage</a>. </p>
<p>While her surviving correspondence shows her to be a less-than-perfect writer, Atikinson’s expertise in natural history led to her becoming the <a href="https://www.theguardian.com/uk/the-northerner/2013/jan/22/heritage-heritage#:%7E:text=Bridget%20Atkinson%20was%20the%20society%27s,was%20the%20first%20woman%20elected.">first female honorary member</a> of the Society of Antiquaries of Newcastle upon Tyne in 1813. Women were still deemed ineligible for full membership until 1877.</p>
<p>Atkinson’s collection does not simply reflect the scientific interests of a curious individual. A study of their acquisition reveals a broad, even global, system at play. A number of her shells were gifted to Atkinson through the networks of the British empire.</p>
<p>Several members of Atkinson’s family were employed in imperial roles. Her son and brother-in-law were both a part of the mercantile colonising forces of the East India Company, and the latter even owned sugar plantations in Jamaica. This means the Atkinson family were direct beneficiaries of the enslavement of Black men and women in the Caribbean. </p>
<p>Atkinson used these connections to her advantage, writing to her relatives living abroad to ask for shells and even imploring family friends to do the same. In 1796, her friend Mary Yates wrote to her son John, who then lived in Virginia to pass on Atkinson’s request for <a href="https://www.english-heritage.org.uk/visit/places/chesters-roman-fort-and-museum-hadrians-wall/history/bridget-atkinsons-shells/">“snail shells picked off the ground …the larger the better”</a>. </p>
<p>Conveyed through the very routes and mechanics of the British empire, Atkinson’s collections are indivisible from the wider history of colonialism. This is something that future displays of the shells will inevitably have to address.</p>
<h2>The history of Atkinson’s collection</h2>
<p>Despite their obvious significance today, Atkinson’s shells have not always been treated with reverence. The collection was passed down through various generations of the Atkinson family before eventually being acquired by Newcastle University in the 1930s (then known as King’s College). It was in this time that the shells were lost.</p>
<p>Having been discarded into a skip, an eagle-eyed marine zoologist named John Buchanan rescued them from obscurity. Going through his belongings after his death, his family discovered the collection and donated it to English Heritage. </p>
<p>This is not an unusual story. Viewed as trifling interests and trivial pursuits, a lack of interest in women’s collections of shells, both ornamental and scientific, has led to many examples being lost over the centuries. </p>
<p>The great sale of Margaret Cavendish’s collection in 1786 is a typical example. Her shells and corals from Britain, Italy and the Indian Ocean were all placed all for sale, alongside those collected for decorative purposes. Like Atkinson’s collection, <a href="https://www.paul-mellon-centre.ac.uk/publications/browse/9780300192230">Cavendish’s shells included specimens from Cook’s travels</a>. But even this important association did not save them from being scattered widely.</p>
<p>As Atkinson’s shells reveal, the collection of these beautiful natural objects crossed continents, told vivid histories of imperialism and established women’s vital role in the development of natural history as a discipline. Their <a href="https://www.english-heritage.org.uk/about-us/search-news/bridget-atkinsons-shell-collection-goes-on-display-at-chesters-roman-fort-hadrians-wall/">forthcoming display</a> at Chester’s Roman Fort and Museum will ensure that they continue to tell these stories long into the future. </p>
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<p class="fine-print"><em><span>Freya Gowrley does not work for, consult, own shares in or receive funding from any company or organisation that would benefit from this article, and has disclosed no relevant affiliations beyond their academic appointment.</span></em></p>
Collecting shells was a common past time in Enlightenment Britain, when elite women were becoming increasingly interested in science.
Freya Gowrley, Lecturer in History of Art and Liberal Arts, University of Bristol
Licensed as Creative Commons – attribution, no derivatives.
tag:theconversation.com,2011:article/224434
2024-02-27T16:31:33Z
2024-02-27T16:31:33Z
RSPB at 120: the forgotten South American pioneer who helped change Victorian attitudes to birds
<p>Bird conservation has a long and rich history in Britain. This is driven, in part, by the popular – and very British – pastime of bird-feeding, which can be traced back to <a href="https://www.pilgrimageandcathedrals.ac.uk/blog/st-cuthbert%E2%80%99s-ducks-1446120484">St Cuthbert in 7th-century Northumberland</a>. The Lindisfarne monk also introduced one of the first bird protection laws.</p>
<p>This British love affair with birds resulted in the founding of the <a href="https://www.rspb.org.uk/about-us">Society for the Protection of Birds</a> in 1889, which this year celebrates 120 years in existence as the Royal Society for the Protection of Birds (royal assent was conferred in 1904). The RSPB is now at the vanguard of British conservation in protecting wild places for birds. With 1.2 million members, many volunteers spend thousands of hours working to protect birds and wildlife – but how did it all begin? </p>
<p>Conor Jameson’s recent <a href="https://pelagicpublishing.com/products/finding-w-h-hudson">book</a>, Finding WH Hudson: The Writer Who Came to Britain to Save the Birds, attempts to answer this question by providing a view of Victorian attitudes towards birds through the eyes of an unknown South American naturalist and ornithologist, <a href="https://www.smithsonianmag.com/science-nature/naturalist-ernest-hemingway-others-love-wilderness-180962775/">William Henry Hudson</a>.</p>
<p>After working for the RSPB for 25 years, Jameson sought to uncover the secrets of this mysterious hero of British bird conservation – “the man above the fireplace”, whose gaze was ever-present thanks to his portrait hanging in the main meeting room at the RSPB headquarters.</p>
<h2>The man from Argentina</h2>
<p>Born in Argentina to US settlers in 1841, Hudson made England his home after arriving in May 1874 at the age of 32. It did not take long for him to gain prominence as an ornithologist of considerable repute. In 1888-1889 he co-authored a major two-volume <a href="https://www.biodiversitylibrary.org/bibliography/20448">book about Argentine birds</a> with Philip Sclater, founder of The Ibis, the journal of the British Ornithologists’ Union. </p>
<p>His writing was strongly influenced by Reverend Gilbert White, who, a century earlier, had produced one of the <a href="https://en.wikisource.org/wiki/The_Natural_History_and_Antiquities_of_Selborne">first and greatest works of natural history</a>, The Natural History and Antiquities of Selborne, describing in passionate detail his observations of nature in his parish.</p>
<p>Hudson’s powers of natural-history observation, and indeed his candour in his writing, were evidently influenced by White whose grave he visited on more than one occasion to pay his respects.</p>
<p>Coming from South America, even common bird species in England were new to Hudson. As a result, he keenly observed them as his considerable naturalist’s skills came to the fore. </p>
<p>Once in England he quickly threw his support behind the “campaigning women of Manchester and London” represented by founder of the Society for the Protection of Birds (SPB) <a href="https://community.rspb.org.uk/ourwork/b/natureshomemagazine/posts/five-women-who-founded-the-rspb">Emily Williamson</a>, and co-founders of the Fur, Fin and Feather Folk, <a href="https://community.rspb.org.uk/ourwork/b/natureshomemagazine/posts/five-women-who-founded-the-rspb">Eliza Phillips and Etta Lemon</a>. The two societies joined forces in the early 1890s as the SPB with the “R” prefix added in 1904.</p>
<p>It is clear that Hudson did not seek the limelight, preferring instead to campaign strenuously “behind the scenes”. One example includes writing a letter to The Times newspaper in 1898 to suggest that Queen Charlotte’s cottage and its gardens at Kew be gifted to the nation. It came to pass in the same year. </p>
<h2>Changing attitudes to birds</h2>
<p>So, how did an unknown Argentinian rise to change entrenched social attitudes towards birds in Britain? Hudson moved in circles of influence in London, containing luminaries such as the future Nobel Prize for literature winner, <a href="https://www.nobelprize.org/prizes/literature/1932/galsworthy/biographical/">John Galsworthy</a>, author of The Forsyte Saga, who shared his abhorrence of the poor treatment of birds by upper-class fashionistas and collectors.</p>
<p>Hudson came to England at a time when the Victorian fashion for feathered hats was at its peak, though it came at a dreadful cost for birds. For example, one London fashion dealer placed a single order in 1892 for 6,000 bird-of-paradise, 40,000 hummingbird and 360,000 East Indian bird feathers. It pained Hudson that feathers were being used so cavalierly as dress accessories for high-society ladies.</p>
<p>He regularly wrote articulate and passionate letters to national newspapers about the persecution of birds, including long-line fishing for albatrosses and catching gulls using baited hooks. He even wrote about the incompatibility of golfers and birds, deeming it an “absurd game” that endangered flying creatures and their habitat.</p>
<p>Given his mounting influence on bird conservation, it seems strange that Hudson is not better known. While he was a prolific writer whose books attracted critical acclaim, he was no grand orator. As Jameson implies, his aversion to public speaking bordered on the pathological. The book is full of examples of invitations that he rarely took up, and it seems that he preferred to write rather than travel. His opinion was sought by fellow writers to whom he gave rather blunt feedback. Today, these traits may well have led to him being called a loner.</p>
<p>I smiled when reading about Hudson’s love of rooks (which belong to the crow family, known as <em>corvids</em>), mentioned several times in the book. I wonder whether subconsciously Hudson saw himself reflected in this often misunderstood yet intriguing species.</p>
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<p>The book is rich in biographical details about Hudson that have been lovingly and comprehensively researched by the author. The narrative flows smoothly, is eminently readable and provides great insight into a man who was clearly enchanted by the natural world – which is probably why he went to great lengths to protect it.</p>
<p>Frustratingly, however, there is little or no detail about Hudson’s formative years in his homeland. This is perhaps because Hudson destroyed many letters he received and encouraged recipients of his letters to do the same. That said, a timeline of events and achievements that shaped Hudson’s impressive career would have added to the book’s navigability.</p>
<p>But the author has done bird lovers a great service in shining a light on this little-known yet fascinating avian conservation pioneer. Though he never sought it, Hudson deserves this posthumous limelight.</p><img src="https://counter.theconversation.com/content/224434/count.gif" alt="The Conversation" width="1" height="1" />
<p class="fine-print"><em><span>S. James Reynolds does not work for, consult, own shares in or receive funding from any company or organisation that would benefit from this article, and has disclosed no relevant affiliations beyond their academic appointment.</span></em></p>
A group of determined women founded the RSPB, but they had great support behind the scenes by a little-known Argentinean naturalist.
S. James Reynolds, Assistant Professor in Ornithology and Animal Conservation, University of Birmingham
Licensed as Creative Commons – attribution, no derivatives.
tag:theconversation.com,2011:article/217886
2023-12-07T13:28:32Z
2023-12-07T13:28:32Z
Why dozens of North American bird species are getting new names: Every name tells a story
<figure><img src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/563741/original/file-20231205-19-huatts.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&rect=3%2C0%2C2193%2C1462&q=45&auto=format&w=496&fit=clip" /><figcaption><span class="caption">Birders participate in the Christmas Bird Count on Theodore Roosevelt Island in Washington, D.C., Dec. 16, 2017. </span> <span class="attribution"><a class="source" href="https://www.gettyimages.com/detail/news-photo/diana-handy-looks-at-a-bird-during-the-christmas-bird-count-news-photo/893985384">Carolyn Van Houten/The Washington Post via Getty Images</a></span></figcaption></figure><p>This winter, tens of thousands of birders will survey winter bird populations for the National Audubon Society’s <a href="https://www.audubon.org/conservation/science/christmas-bird-count">Christmas Bird Count</a>, part of an international bird census, powered by volunteers, that has taken place every year since 1900.</p>
<p>For many birders, participating in the count is a much-anticipated annual tradition. Tallying birds and compiling results with others connects birders to local, regional and even national birding communities. Comparing this year’s results with previous tallies links birders to past generations. And scientists <a href="https://www.audubon.org/conservation/science/christmas-bird-count/christmas-bird-count-bibliography">use the data</a> to assess whether bird populations are thriving or declining.</p>
<p>But a change is coming. On Nov. 1, 2023, the American Ornithological Society <a href="https://americanornithology.org/american-ornithological-society-will-change-the-english-names-of-bird-species-named-after-people/">announced</a> that it will rename 152 bird species that have names honoring historical figures. </p>
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<a href="https://images.theconversation.com/files/563952/original/file-20231206-15-8ztay4.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=1000&fit=clip"><img alt="A gray-blue bird with black markings perches on a branch, eating a berry." src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/563952/original/file-20231206-15-8ztay4.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=237&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/563952/original/file-20231206-15-8ztay4.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=419&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/563952/original/file-20231206-15-8ztay4.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=419&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/563952/original/file-20231206-15-8ztay4.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=419&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/563952/original/file-20231206-15-8ztay4.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=526&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/563952/original/file-20231206-15-8ztay4.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=526&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/563952/original/file-20231206-15-8ztay4.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=526&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px"></a>
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<span class="caption">A Townsend’s Solitaire, one of the species to be renamed.</span>
<span class="attribution"><span class="source">Jared Del Rosso</span>, <a class="license" href="http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nd/4.0/">CC BY-ND</a></span>
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<p>Soon, Christmas bird counters will no longer find Cooper’s hawks hunting songbirds. They won’t scan marshes for Wilson’s snipes. And here in Colorado’s Front Range, where I’ll participate in a local count, we’ll no longer encounter one of my favorite winter visitors, Townsend’s solitaires. </p>
<p>New names will take the place of these eponymous ones. With those new names will come new ways of understanding these birds and their histories.</p>
<h2>Names matter</h2>
<p>In my time birding over the past decade, learning birds’ names helped me recognize the species I encounter every day, as well as the ones that migrate past me. So I understand that it may not be easy to persuade people to accept new names for so many familiar North American species. </p>
<p>But as a <a href="https://jdelrosso.com/">scholar of politics, culture and denial</a>, I also know that language shapes our understanding of history and violence. This includes bird names, as I’ve learned through my ongoing research into <a href="https://lonesomewhippoorwill.com/the-book/">one iconic species’ place in American culture</a>: the Eastern whip-poor-will. </p>
<p>Eastern whip-poor-wills are nocturnal birds who nest in forests of the eastern U.S. and Canada. English colonialists named the species for their <a href="https://www.allaboutbirds.org/guide/Eastern_Whip-poor-will/sounds">distinct, repetitive call</a>, which sounds like a malicious command to inflict punishment: “Whip poor Will, whip poor Will, whip poor Will.” </p>
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<figcaption><span class="caption">An Eastern Whip-poor-will’s distinctive call.</span></figcaption>
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<p>This naming had consequences. Generations of <a href="https://www.google.com/books/edition/The_Whip_Poor_Will_A_Series_of_Engraving/bByLdRHWi3UC?hl=en&gbpv=1&pg=PP11&printsec=frontcover">poets</a> and naturalists, like <a href="https://www.google.com/books/edition/The_Writings_of_John_Muir_The_story_of_m/VMtPacVUW6IC">John Muir</a> and <a href="https://www.google.com/books/edition/Tommy_Anne_and_the_Three_Hearts/NzVAAAAAYAAJ">Mabel Osgood Wright</a>, associated the species with whippings. Their writings often tell us as much about 19th and early-20th century Americans’ views of morality and punishment than about this remarkable bird.</p>
<h2>What’s wrong with eponymous names</h2>
<p>The whip-poor-will’s name translates the species’ song, leaving room for interpretation. Eponymous names based on a specific person, like Audubon’s oriole or Townsend’s solitaire, are less descriptive. Even so, these names <a href="https://doi.org/10.1111/ibi.12984">shape how people relate</a> to birds and the history of ornithology.</p>
<p>Many of these names honor people, usually white men, who engaged in racist acts. For example, <a href="https://www.audubon.org/news/the-myth-john-james-audubon">John James Audubon owned slaves</a>, and <a href="https://www.jstor.org/stable/10.5403/oregonhistq.115.3.0324">John Kirk Townsend robbed skulls from Native American graves</a>. Changing these names helps separate birds from this harmful, exclusionary history. </p>
<p>But for multiple reasons, the American Ornithological Society is <a href="https://americanornithology.org/about/english-bird-names-project/english-bird-names-committee-recommendations/#recommendation-1">changing all eponymous names</a>, not just those linked to problematic historical figures. First, the organization decided that it did not want to make judgments about which historical figures were honor-worthy. Second, it recognized that all eponymous names imply human ownership over birds. Third, it acknowledged that eponymous names do not describe the birds they name.</p>
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<h2>Change as a constant</h2>
<p>While birders certainly will have learning to do once these changes become official, change is a constant in how people relate to birds. </p>
<p>Consider the technologies birders use. In the early 20th century, binoculars became more affordable and readily available. As <a href="https://liberalarts.tamu.edu/history/profile/thomas-r-dunlap/">Texas A&M historian Thomas Dunlap</a> <a href="https://global.oup.com/academic/product/in-the-field-among-the-feathered-9780199734597">has shown</a>, this helps explains why birders now “collect” birds by spotting them, rather than by shooting them, as Audubon and others of his time did.</p>
<p>Field guides, too, have come a long way. Early guides often relied on dense written descriptions. Today, birders carry compact, smartly illustrated guides, or we use smartphones to check digital guides, share sightings and <a href="https://merlin.allaboutbirds.org/merlin-sound-id-project-overview/">identify birds from audio recordings</a>. </p>
<p>Names, too, have long been open to revision. When the American Ornithological Union, the predecessor of today’s American Ornithological Society, created an <a href="https://www.biodiversitylibrary.org/item/16484#page/6/mode/1up">official list of bird names in 1886</a>, it erased untold numbers of Indigenous names, as well as local folk names.</p>
<p>Since then, some names have come into use and others have fallen out of fashion, especially as ornithologists lump and split species. Consider the ongoing adventure of just one species: <a href="https://www.allaboutbirds.org/guide/Wilsons_Snipe/overview">Wilson’s snipe</a>, a round marsh bird whose name will be among those changed. </p>
<p>In the American Ornithological Union’s original checklist of North American birds, Wilson’s snipes were a distinct species from the Common snipes of Europe and Asia. Then, in the mid-1940s, the Union decided the two were one, and Wilson’s snipes became Common snipes. In 2000, the Common snipe was split back into two species, and Wilson’s snipes again became Wilson’s snipes. </p>
<p>Either way, many early accounts of the North American species simply call these birds “Snipes.” This is the name Alexander Wilson, for whom the bird is named, himself used in <a href="https://www.google.com/books/edition/American_Ornithology_Or_The_Natural_Hist/V1BHAAAAYAAJ">his account of them</a>.</p>
<figure class="align-center zoomable">
<a href="https://images.theconversation.com/files/562836/original/file-20231130-25-ujzawe.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=1000&fit=clip"><img alt="Watercolor of three brown and white snipes, a type of shorebird, in a marsh." src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/562836/original/file-20231130-25-ujzawe.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/562836/original/file-20231130-25-ujzawe.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=399&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/562836/original/file-20231130-25-ujzawe.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=399&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/562836/original/file-20231130-25-ujzawe.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=399&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/562836/original/file-20231130-25-ujzawe.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=501&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/562836/original/file-20231130-25-ujzawe.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=501&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/562836/original/file-20231130-25-ujzawe.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=501&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px"></a>
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">John James Audubon’s illustration of American snipes, from ‘Birds of America.’</span>
<span class="attribution"><a class="source" href="https://www.audubon.org/birds-of-america/american-snipe">Courtesy of the John James Audubon Center at Mill Grove, Montgomery County Audubon Collection, and Zebra Publishing</a></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<h2>Names reflect new knowledge and values</h2>
<p>Science has greatly expanded human understanding of birds in recent decades. We now recognize that birds are <a href="https://theconversation.com/are-crows-really-that-clever-212914">intelligent</a>, with rich <a href="https://theconversation.com/laughs-cries-and-deception-birds-emotional-lives-are-just-as-complicated-as-ours-69471">emotional lives</a>. Radar, lightweight transmitters and satellite telemetry have helped scientists map the <a href="https://theconversation.com/birds-migrate-along-ancient-routes-here-are-the-latest-high-tech-tools-scientists-are-using-to-study-their-amazing-journeys-187967">transcontinental migrations</a> that many bird species make each year.</p>
<p>Trading eponymous names, which treat birds as passive objects, for richer descriptive names reflects this sea change in our understanding of avian lives. </p>
<p>Our thinking about race and racism has evolved dramatically as well. For instance, we no longer use folk names for birds based on <a href="https://www.jstor.org/stable/453677">racial and ethnic slurs</a>, as Americans of the 19th and early 20th centuries did. The decision to change eponymous bird names reflects this shift. </p>
<p>It also reflects broader efforts to reckon with the legacies of racism and colonialism in our relationships with the natural world. There is increasing recognition that legacies of racism shape our natural landscapes. Just as public monuments can have “<a href="https://theconversation.com/monuments-expire-but-offensive-monuments-can-become-powerful-history-lessons-143318">expiration dates</a>,” so can names for species, <a href="https://theconversation.com/us-landmarks-bearing-racist-and-colonial-references-are-renamed-to-reflect-indigenous-values-157850">geographic features</a> and places that no longer reflect contemporary values.</p>
<p>Birders no longer live in Audubon’s world. We rarely consult his heavy, multi-volume folios. We celebrate that we list birds that we have seen in the wild and left unharmed, rather than collecting their bodies as specimens.</p>
<p>Soon, we’ll also stop using some of the names that this world gave to birds.</p><img src="https://counter.theconversation.com/content/217886/count.gif" alt="The Conversation" width="1" height="1" />
<p class="fine-print"><em><span>Jared Del Rosso does not work for, consult, own shares in or receive funding from any company or organization that would benefit from this article, and has disclosed no relevant affiliations beyond their academic appointment.</span></em></p>
What’s in a name? A lot, if you’re an Audubon’s Oriole or a Townsend’s Solitaire.
Jared Del Rosso, Associate Professor of Sociology and Criminology, University of Denver
Licensed as Creative Commons – attribution, no derivatives.
tag:theconversation.com,2011:article/218642
2023-11-29T15:59:49Z
2023-11-29T15:59:49Z
How colonial violence in Tasmania helped build scientists’ reputations and prestigious museum collections
<p><em>Readers are advised this article contains the names of Aboriginal people who have died, and mentions attempted genocide, violence towards and offensive language about Aboriginal peoples.</em></p>
<p>We might imagine that scientists gain recognition thanks to the ideas they generate and the knowledge they contribute to our understanding of the world, earned through careers of diligent research. But not everyone takes this route. </p>
<p>When Tasmanian solicitor Morton Allport died in 1878, <a href="https://trove.nla.gov.au/newspaper/article/8967845?searchTerm=conspicuous%20as%20the%20foremost%20scientist%20in%20the%20colony%20and">his obituary</a> described him as the “the foremost scientist in the colony”. <a href="https://www.euppublishing.com/doi/10.3366/anh.2023.0859">My research</a>, published today, shows that Allport achieved his status by obtaining the bodily remains of Tasmanian Aboriginal people and endangered animals, and sending them to European collectors – specifically asking for scientific accolades in return. </p>
<p>I read <a href="https://librariestas.ent.sirsidynix.net.au/client/en_AU/tas/search/detailnonmodal/ent:$002f$002fARCHIVES_SERIES$002f0$002fARCHIVES_SER_DIX:ALL19/one">hundreds of letters</a> between Allport and his European correspondents. It’s clear from these letters that Allport played up the rarity and value of these remains, while both the people and the animals were being subjected to extraordinary colonial violence. Allport worked in Tasmania at a time when its natural history captivated European scientists. Enigmatic animals <a href="https://harpercollins.co.uk/products/platypus-matters-the-extraordinary-story-of-australian-mammals-jack-ashby?variant=40108244041806">like the platypus</a> challenged Europe’s understanding of the natural world. </p>
<p>The now extinct thylacine, or Tasmanian tiger was related to other marsupials such kangaroos and wombats. It was the largest marsupial carnivore of modern times. And it offered one of the most perfect examples of <a href="https://www.nhm.ac.uk/discover/convergent-evolution.html">convergent evolution</a> – where astonishingly similar animals evolve independently on different branches of the tree of life. Thylacines and wolves are separated by <a href="https://www.nature.com/articles/s41559-017-0417-y">160 million years</a> of evolution, but closely resemble each other (albeit thylacines had stripes). </p>
<h2>A racist hierarchy</h2>
<p>But accounts of these animals also fed into the <a href="https://harpercollins.co.uk/products/platypus-matters-the-extraordinary-story-of-australian-mammals-jack-ashby?variant=40108244041806">racist view</a> that Australia was a primitive evolutionary backwater. Despite the intrigue, almost every 19th-century account of Australian mammals paints them as weird, inferior beasts.</p>
<p><a href="https://libraries.tas.gov.au/tasmanian-archives/guides-to-records/early-colonial-administration-records/introduction/#:%7E:text=Settled%20in%201803%2C%20Tasmania%20was,responsible%20self%2Dgovernment%20from%201856.">Britain colonised Tasmania in 1803</a>. Thylacines were considered a threat to the new sheep farming industry. So was the Indigenous human population. From 1830 the colonists offered bounties to encourage their violent removal. </p>
<p>The result was extinction of the thylacine and <a href="https://atlantic-books.co.uk/book/truganini/">genocide of Indigenous peoples</a>. I use the term genocide here because, although they were unsuccessful, the British <a href="https://theconversation.com/explainer-the-evidence-for-the-tasmanian-genocide-86828">aimed to completely destroy</a> Tasmania’s Indigenous population.</p>
<p>As populations of thylacines and Tasmanian Aboriginal people were decimated, demand for their remains in museums increased. Allport sent more thylacine specimens to Europe than anyone else, and proudly claimed to be the supplier of every Tasmanian human skeleton to reach European collections.</p>
<p>He was also involved in the mutilation of the body of an Aboriginal man, <a href="https://www.utas.edu.au/library/companion_to_tasmanian_history/L/William%20Lanne.htm">William Lanne</a>. Lanne was considered a “prize specimen” as the colonists believed him to be the last Tasmanian man when he died in 1869. They were wrong – thousands of Tasmanian Aboriginal people are alive today. </p>
<p>The events surrounding Lanne’s death have been at the centre of much debate in Tasmania in recent years. This August local authorities agreed that a statue of politician William Crowther – also implicated in the mutilation of Lanne’s body – <a href="https://www.abc.net.au/news/2023-08-24/william-crowther-statue-to-be-removed-from-display/102737854">would be removed</a> from Hobart city centre, the Tasmanian state capital.</p>
<p>Historical figures like Allport allow us to consider how violence against the Indigenous population and the exploitative nature of <a href="https://www.natsca.org/node/2509">colonial natural history</a> were parts of the same historical processes. That is not to say these issues were as harmful as each other. Rather, they were connected events taking place at the same time. When we consider the parallels between them, it helps build a picture of the human and environmental costs of colonialism. </p>
<h2>An uncomfortable legacy</h2>
<p>Aside from both being viewed as pests in their own environment, thylacines and Aboriginal people were incorrectly described in colonial and European accounts as savage, primitive, unadaptable and unintelligent. </p>
<p>In the context of European racism, hierarchies were invented by the western scientific elite that placed marsupials <a href="https://www.natsca.org/article/2684">as inherently “inferior”</a> compared to European mammals – just as human racial hierarchies had been similarly fabricated. </p>
<p>It led to a narrative that they would inevitably become extinct through exposure to more modern newcomers. This propaganda minimised the impact of the state-sponsored violence. </p>
<p>Colonists described the people and thylacines as at fault for what happened to them – that they couldn’t cope in the “modern” world. This obscures the actual reason for their decline: they were being killed either directly by European settlers or by the conditions the colonial establishment forced them to live in.</p>
<p>But there is also an interesting paradox regarding these two “extinctions” and the mythology surrounding them. Thylacines are extinct, but the notion that they are <a href="https://www.sciencedirect.com/science/article/pii/S0048969723014948">not is mainstream</a>, whereas Aboriginal Tasmanians are not extinct despite a <a href="https://www.theguardian.com/world/2002/oct/14/australia.features11">persistent narrative</a> that they were exterminated.</p>
<p><a href="https://www.museum.zoo.cam.ac.uk/collections-research/collections-uncovered/colonial-histories-australian-mammal-collections">I now work</a> with some of the thylacine skins Allport sent to Europe, at the <a href="https://www.museum.zoo.cam.ac.uk/">University Museum of Zoology</a>, Cambridge. They are invaluable scientific specimens that teach us so much about an iconic extinct species. </p>
<p>But these skins also hold power in allowing museums to connect people to this story. I can no longer look at them without thinking of the human story they relate to. Museum specimens aren’t just scientific data – they also reflect important moments in history, much of which was <a href="https://www.natsca.org/node/2631">tragically violent</a>.</p><img src="https://counter.theconversation.com/content/218642/count.gif" alt="The Conversation" width="1" height="1" />
<p class="fine-print"><em><span>Jack Ashby received funding from a Headley Fellowship with Art Fund. He is affiliated with the Natural Sciences Collections Association.</span></em></p>
New research shows the uncomfortable and shocking truth behind a revered scientist’s reputation.
Jack Ashby, Assistant Director of the University Museum of Zoology, Cambridge, University of Cambridge
Licensed as Creative Commons – attribution, no derivatives.
tag:theconversation.com,2011:article/190304
2022-10-26T12:28:10Z
2022-10-26T12:28:10Z
By fact-checking Thoreau’s observations at Walden Pond, we showed how old diaries and specimens can inform modern research
<figure><img src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/491407/original/file-20221024-11269-blb8a6.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&rect=22%2C9%2C3044%2C2032&q=45&auto=format&w=496&fit=clip" /><figcaption><span class="caption">Scientists have used author Henry David Thoreau's notes to inform studies of climate change in eastern Massachusetts.</span> <span class="attribution"><a class="source" href="https://flic.kr/p/vQYNL">Tom Stohlman/Flickr</a>, <a class="license" href="http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/4.0/">CC BY-SA</a></span></figcaption></figure><p>Henry David Thoreau, the environmental philosopher and author of <a href="https://www.google.com/books/edition/Walden/yiQ3AAAAIAAJ?hl=en&gbpv=0">“Walden”</a>, was a keen observer of seasonal change. In 1862, for example, he <a href="https://archive.vcu.edu/english/engweb/transcendentalism/authors/thoreau/autumnal.html">wrote in the Atlantic Monthly</a>: </p>
<blockquote>
<p>“October is the month of painted leaves. Their rich glow now flashes round the world. As fruits and leaves and the day itself acquire a bright tint just before they fall, so the year near its setting. October is its sunset sky; November the later twilight.”</p>
</blockquote>
<p>Over the past 20 years, researchers have used Thoreau’s observations of plant <a href="https://doi.org/10.1890/07-0068.1">flowering</a>, <a href="https://doi.org/10.1111/nph.12647">leaf emergence on trees and shrubs</a>, <a href="https://doi.org/10.1525/cond.2010.100006">bird migration</a> and spring ice melt on Walden Pond to study how these events have changed since the 1850s, largely in response to <a href="https://press.uchicago.edu/ucp/books/book/chicago/W/bo8829988.html">climate change</a>. </p>
<p>Ecologists have also pulled data for modern-day research from museum specimens, <a href="https://doi.org/10.1656/045.026.0309">journals of hunting guides</a> and bird and <a href="https://doi.org/10.1007/s00484-017-1347-8">butterfly club reports</a>. Comparisons with historical records have provided insights into shifts in the natural world caused by climate change and other human influences. Examples include <a href="https://doi.org/10.1016/j.marpolbul.2003.11.004">coral decline in American Samoa</a>, <a href="https://doi.org/10.1016/j.biocon.2004.01.017">amphibian losses in Mexico</a> and <a href="https://doi.org/10.1111/j.1365-2486.2012.02784.x">shifts in birds’ ranges in California’s Sierra Nevada</a>. </p>
<figure>
<iframe width="440" height="260" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/uxtrOsFnvq0?wmode=transparent&start=0" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen=""></iframe>
<figcaption><span class="caption">Researchers are using a collection of photographs of British landscapes taken between 1910-1935 to analyze current effects of climate change at those locations.</span></figcaption>
</figure>
<p>But how do scientists know that this historical data is appropriate to use? How can they tell good data from bad? And how can you know whether records you may have, such as an ancestor’s journals or seashell collection, might be useful for science?</p>
<p>We recently published <a href="https://doi.org/10.1093/biosci/biac063">an article in the journal Bioscience</a> that lays out a three-step approach for assessing the quality of historical observations. Using this approach, we believe that scientists can confidently use historical resources to inform studies reaching back to times and places where formal scientific data is not available. </p>
<h2>A three-part test</h2>
<p>Not long after Thoreau died, critics questioned the accuracy of his natural history observations. Writing in 1919, John Burroughs, a leading nature essayist of the time, offered perhaps the <a href="https://www.theatlantic.com/magazine/archive/1919/06/a-critical-glance-into-thoreau/646539/">strongest criticisms</a>. </p>
<p>Burroughs asserted that Thoreau’s “observations are frequently at fault, or wholly wide of the mark.” He questioned whether Thoreau knew basic facts, such as that hickory trees grew in Concord, Massachusetts, and that pine trees had seeds. </p>
<p>To determine whether Burroughs and other critics were right, we propose a straightforward three-step process. </p>
<p>– Is the information collected using rigorous methods that are well documented and clearly described? Modern researchers should be able to repeat them – for example, locating sites where past naturalists worked, making observations over the same number of days per week and following other key parts of their methods.</p>
<p>– How accurate are the observations, such as species identifications? Were they subject to any biases? Can researchers or naturalists replicate aspects of the observations that would be expected to remain consistent over time?</p>
<p>– Does the data have the precision, frequency and rigor that scholars need now? No data is right for all purposes. Modern researchers must decide whether the information can answer the question they are investigating.</p>
<figure>
<iframe width="440" height="260" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/RkPBxxpy2b8?wmode=transparent&start=0" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen=""></iframe>
<figcaption><span class="caption">In this 2011 video, Boston University biologist Richard Primack explains how he and his research team used Henry David Thoreau’s nature observations from the 1850s to measure the effects of climate change in New England.</span></figcaption>
</figure>
<h2>Was Thoreau a good naturalist?</h2>
<p>When we assessed the rigor, accuracy and utility of Thoreau’s natural history observations, we found that he was indeed a good naturalist. </p>
<p>Thoreau thoroughly documented the dates, locations and descriptions of observations that he made as he walked around <a href="https://www.mass.gov/locations/walden-pond-state-reservation">Walden Pond</a> and greater Concord. We can read in his journals how often and for how long he made these notes. </p>
<p>We compared Thoreau’s notes to modern observations and found that his observations of seasonal events such as leaf out, flowering, fruiting and bird arrivals were highly correlated with modern findings. This told us that Thoreau captured similar patterns. </p>
<p>For example, we can see that the order in which flowers bloom in spring around Concord is nearly the same in Thoreau’s journals as in modern observations. In both data sets, certain species flower early, while other species bloom late in the season.</p>
<p>Thoreau’s historical observations have tremendous utility in research. We and other researchers have used them to learn about the effects of climate change on <a href="https://doi.org/10.1890/07-0068.1">plants</a> and <a href="https://doi.org/10.1525/cond.2010.100006">birds</a> in Concord. Using Thoreau’s findings as a baseline, we have found that spring leaf out and flowering are occurring earlier, but the timing of bird arrivals is not changing much.</p>
<figure class="align-center zoomable">
<a href="https://images.theconversation.com/files/491415/original/file-20221024-11-mgvbna.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=1000&fit=clip"><img alt="Flowers opening on a blueberry bush" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/491415/original/file-20221024-11-mgvbna.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/491415/original/file-20221024-11-mgvbna.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=450&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/491415/original/file-20221024-11-mgvbna.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=450&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/491415/original/file-20221024-11-mgvbna.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=450&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/491415/original/file-20221024-11-mgvbna.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=566&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/491415/original/file-20221024-11-mgvbna.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=566&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/491415/original/file-20221024-11-mgvbna.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=566&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px"></a>
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">On daily walks around Concord, Mass., Henry David Thoreau observed highbush blueberry (<em>Vaccinium corymbosum</em>) flowers first opening on May 11, 1853. Today, warming has pushed blueberry flowering at least three weeks earlier in the year.</span>
<span class="attribution"><a class="source" href="https://flic.kr/p/2iWpySb">Gertjian van Noord/Flickr</a>, <a class="license" href="http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nd/4.0/">CC BY-ND</a></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<h2>Beyond Thoreau and Walden</h2>
<p>Researchers can use this approach to evaluate other historical observations. For example, between 1904 and 1969, American field biologist <a href="https://mvz.berkeley.edu/joseph-grinnell/">Joseph Grinnell</a> and his colleagues recorded observations of species in California. Their team carefully described most of their methods and collected specimens and photographs to document their work. </p>
<p>However, their sampling methods were sometimes inconsistent, and researchers cannot locate some of their sampling routes. These uncertainties make the Grinnell team’s observations inappropriate to answer questions about changes in the abundance of some species. But their observations are excellent for answering questions about how climate change is altering the ranges of many species, including <a href="https://doi.org/10.1073/pnas.0901562106">birds</a> and <a href="https://doi.org/10.1126/science.1163428">small mammals like mice, voles and chipmunks</a> that Grinnell’s team observed there in the past and that still occur there. </p>
<p>Museum specimens such as <a href="https://doi.org/10.1093/biosci/biz094">dried plants</a>, bird nests and animal skins are another source of historical information. The specimens themselves remove uncertainty around species identification and preserve many physical characteristics that interest researchers. </p>
<p>However, the people who collected the specimens sometimes fail to record precise location information. And some collectors target particular species, locations or seasons, <a href="https://doi.org/10.1111/nph.14855">which can bias what they find</a>. </p>
<p>For example, if a collector targeted spring-flowering plants, their collection may be missing plants that flower later in the year. We urge researchers to <a href="https://doi.org/10.1016/j.tree.2021.08.003">watch for these biases when using historical data</a>. </p>
<figure class="align-center zoomable">
<a href="https://images.theconversation.com/files/491421/original/file-20221024-6986-t1in47.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=1000&fit=clip"><img alt="Visitors view display cases holding preserved animals" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/491421/original/file-20221024-6986-t1in47.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/491421/original/file-20221024-6986-t1in47.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=400&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/491421/original/file-20221024-6986-t1in47.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=400&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/491421/original/file-20221024-6986-t1in47.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=400&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/491421/original/file-20221024-6986-t1in47.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=503&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/491421/original/file-20221024-6986-t1in47.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=503&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/491421/original/file-20221024-6986-t1in47.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=503&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px"></a>
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">Animals and plants in museum collections, such as these in New York’s American Museum of Natural History, are valuable sources of DNA for studies of evolution and biodiversity – but collection methods can affect how useful they are.</span>
<span class="attribution"><a class="source" href="https://www.gettyimages.com/detail/news-photo/people-visit-the-american-museum-of-natural-history-on-july-news-photo/1411282889">Michael M. Santiago/Getty Images</a></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>It’s not uncommon to find historical data sets with little, if any, documentation about when, where and how the data was collected – for example, observations from someone’s daily walks, collections of photographs or a birder’s reports to an ornithological club. Even in these cases, it may be possible to determine how rigorous and accurate the data is.</p>
<p>For example, the frequency of photographs or observations may hint at how often someone made observations. And even poorly documented data can be useful to address some ecological questions, or could <a href="https://doi.org/10.1656/045.026.0309">suggest new hypotheses that deserve further study</a>. </p>
<p>Scientists are searching for more historical data. Following careful evaluation, we may be able to use this information to learn about the effects of climate change, land use practices and other environmental issues. People who have records that might be scientifically valuable should consider contacting ecologists, research stations, natural history clubs and the <a href="https://www.usanpn.org/usa-national-phenology-network">USA National Phenology Network</a>, which collects, stores and shares data on the timing of seasonal events such as bird migration across the U.S.</p><img src="https://counter.theconversation.com/content/190304/count.gif" alt="The Conversation" width="1" height="1" />
<p class="fine-print"><em><span>Tara K. Miller receives funding from the National Science Foundation. </span></em></p><p class="fine-print"><em><span>Abe Miller-Rushing has received funding from the National Science Foundation. </span></em></p><p class="fine-print"><em><span>Richard B. Primack receives funding from the US National Science Foundation.</span></em></p>
Journals, museum collections and other historical sources can provide valuable data for modern ecological studies. But just because a source is old doesn’t make it useful.
Tara K. Miller, PhD Candidate in Biology, Boston University
Abe Miller-Rushing, Science Coordinator, Acadia National Park, National Park Service
Richard B. Primack, Professor of Biology, Boston University
Licensed as Creative Commons – attribution, no derivatives.
tag:theconversation.com,2011:article/181738
2022-04-21T16:09:11Z
2022-04-21T16:09:11Z
How a new GCSE in natural history can help us towards a greener future
<p>The UK’s education secretary, Nadhim Zahawi, has announced the launch of a <a href="https://inews.co.uk/news/education/government-new-natural-history-gcse-wildlife-climate-change-1585522">GCSE in natural history</a>, a key part of helping bring back the study of plants and animals into the lives of young people. Long championed by the environmentalist <a href="http://www.curlewmedia.com/">Mary Colwell</a>, this qualification is welcome.</p>
<p>The world is facing both a climate crisis and a biodiversity crisis, each resulting from the damaging effects of our species on the natural world. The UK is among the most <a href="https://nbn.org.uk/stateofnature2019/">nature-depleted countries</a> on Earth – even its national parks are <a href="https://www.nationalparksengland.org.uk/home/about-national-parks-england/policy/our-work-pages2/agriculture">mostly farmland</a>. Despite this, a psychological phenomenon known as <a href="https://esajournals.onlinelibrary.wiley.com/doi/10.1002/fee.1794">shifting baseline syndrome</a> means that limited personal experience of change, particularly as people grow up, results in a lack of awareness of the sheer volume and diversity of animals and plants that have been lost in recent generations.</p>
<p>Not only that, but around 83% of people in the UK now live in urban areas. Children growing up in towns and cities have less exposure to nature, what is there is less likely to be wild, and they experience fewer opportunities to roam in green space than previous generations. Some argue that this disconnection from nature is associated with a range of <a href="http://richardlouv.com/blog/what-is-nature-deficit-disorder">mental and physical health issues</a>. This means that generations are becoming further <a href="https://www.gov.uk/government/publications/final-report-the-economics-of-biodiversity-the-dasgupta-review">isolated</a> from nature, just as the world needs people with the ecological literacy to enable them to address the environmental challenges of coming decades.</p>
<h2>Overwhelming support</h2>
<p>The new GCSE in natural history is an opportunity to put this right. The examination board <a href="https://teach.ocr.org.uk/summary-of-findings?hsLang=en-gb">consultation</a> that informed thinking about the qualification showed that an overwhelming proportion (91%) of responders agreed that a GCSE with the purpose of helping pupils gain deeper insights into the flora and fauna of life on Earth, and how this biodiversity affects us and how we affect it. Importantly, 94% of young people surveyed said that they would like to study a qualification like this. </p>
<p>At the same time the consultation pointed to some challenges. These include restrictions on curriculum time and staff, funding, perceptions of value, lack of recognition, and access for those with special needs or who can’t easily access outdoor spaces. To actually deliver this GCSE teachers will need to understand how it links to other subject specialisms where elements may <a href="https://theconversation.com/ever-wondered-what-our-curriculum-teaches-kids-about-climate-change-the-answer-is-not-much-123272#:%7E:text=Explicit%2520links%2520to%2520the%2520topic%2520of%2520climate%2520change,optional%2520depending%2520on%2520the%2520school%2520and%2520year%2520group.">traditionally or not traditionally</a> have been taught, and how it fits into the wider timetable.</p>
<h2>Seeing the connections of nature</h2>
<p>Practical issues aside, engaging young people in their natural environments not only allows them to develop their <a href="https://www.eco-capabilities.co.uk/publications">eco-capabilities</a>, it also influences how they learn. It provides opportunities to connect place and science through problem-based education, encouraging people to think of the natural world as an interconnected system with lots of moving parts. It is only by seeing the connections of nature, how our pulling at threads in the web of life endangers more than individual species, that we can understand the looming threats and ways of avoiding them. As a boundary-crossing subject, natural history can be a test bed for interdisciplinary learning for children, their teachers and leaders.</p>
<p>The UK government’s <a href="https://www.gov.uk/government/publications/sustainability-and-climate-change-strategy">Strategy for Sustainability and Climate Change</a> advocates four strategic aims focused first on education itself, and then how education can help deliver our need to meet net zero carbon, to be resilient to climate change and to improve biodiversity and environmental quality. These are linked by the ambitious vision for the “United Kingdom to be the world-leading education sector in sustainability and climate change by 2030”, where education is the starting point for sustained change and adaptation, not only to encourage societal change but also as we build the skills base for a green economy.</p>
<p>This ambition is supported by two key initiatives to drive the strategy forward: the National Education Nature Park and Climate Leaders Award, which have recently put out to <a href="https://bidstats.uk/tenders/2022/W15/772669884">tender</a>. The former aims to greatly increase biodiversity on nursery, school and college grounds, while the latter seeks to recognise and support the tremendous efforts of young people to engage with environmental issues. This government is encouraging other bodies to engage with environmental education. For example, our university is involved in a <a href="https://www.reading.ac.uk/planet/climate-education/climate-ambassador-scheme">Climate Ambassadors Scheme</a> which connects climate experts with schools, allowing teachers and governors to make specific requests for world-leading researchers and professionals to help and advise them.</p>
<p>It is easy to be pessimistic in the face of daily reports of ecological loss. Some will say this is too little, too late. We say that this is a once in a generation opportunity to change the future for the better. Given the enormous environmental challenges the world faces, there is no alternative to education if we are to navigate our way to becoming a more sustainable and biodiverse country.</p><img src="https://counter.theconversation.com/content/181738/count.gif" alt="The Conversation" width="1" height="1" />
<p class="fine-print"><em><span>Mark Fellowes has received funding from NERC and BBSRC. </span></em></p><p class="fine-print"><em><span>Jo Anna Reed Johnson does not work for, consult, own shares in or receive funding from any company or organisation that would benefit from this article, and has disclosed no relevant affiliations beyond their academic appointment.</span></em></p>
Children often aren’t aware of how much has been lost in recent generations.
Mark Fellowes, Professor of Ecology, University of Reading
Jo Anna Reed Johnson, Lecturer in Science Education, University of Reading
Licensed as Creative Commons – attribution, no derivatives.
tag:theconversation.com,2011:article/168925
2021-11-23T13:30:15Z
2021-11-23T13:30:15Z
Art illuminates the beauty of science – and could inspire the next generation of scientists young and old
<figure><img src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/432929/original/file-20211119-17-ptux52.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&rect=0%2C0%2C4962%2C5816&q=45&auto=format&w=496&fit=clip" /><figcaption><span class="caption">The annual BioArt competition highlights the hidden parts of biology revealed under a microscope.</span> <span class="attribution"><a class="source" href="https://faseb.org/FASEB/media/Page-Images/Partnerships%20and%20Outreach/BioArt/2021BioArtWinners/green.png">Todd Green/BioArt</a>, <a class="license" href="http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc-nd/4.0/">CC BY-NC-ND</a></span></figcaption></figure><p>Scientists have often invited the public to see what they see, using everything from <a href="https://www.latimes.com/science/sciencenow/la-sci-sn-cell-printing-chinese-woodblock-inkjet-20140210-story.html">engraved woodblocks</a> to <a href="https://www.smithsonianmag.com/science-nature/science-images-that-border-on-art-50661407/">electron microscopes</a> to explore the complexity of the scientific enterprise and the beauty of life. <a href="https://doi.org/10.1038/d41586-019-03306-9">Sharing these visions</a> through illustrations, photography and videos has allowed laypeople to explore a range of discoveries, from new bird species to the inner workings of the human cell.</p>
<figure class="align-left zoomable">
<a href="https://images.theconversation.com/files/432930/original/file-20211119-25-1hsisp8.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=1000&fit=clip"><img alt="Micrograph of mouse intestinal villi." src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/432930/original/file-20211119-25-1hsisp8.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=237&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/432930/original/file-20211119-25-1hsisp8.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=1352&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/432930/original/file-20211119-25-1hsisp8.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=1352&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/432930/original/file-20211119-25-1hsisp8.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=1352&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/432930/original/file-20211119-25-1hsisp8.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=1699&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/432930/original/file-20211119-25-1hsisp8.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=1699&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/432930/original/file-20211119-25-1hsisp8.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=1699&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px"></a>
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">A winner of the 2018 BioArt contest, this image shows the intestinal villi of a mouse.</span>
<span class="attribution"><a class="source" href="https://faseb.org/FASEB/media/Page-Images/Partnerships%20and%20Outreach/BioArt/2018BioArtWinners/2018BioArtWinners-09.jpg">Amy Engevik/BioArt</a>, <a class="license" href="http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc-nd/4.0/">CC BY-NC-ND</a></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>As a <a href="https://www.researchgate.net/profile/Christine-Curran">neuroscience and bioscience researcher</a>, I know that scientists are sometimes pigeonholed as white lab coats obsessed with charts and graphs. What that stereotype misses is their passion for science as a mode of discovery. That’s why scientists frequently turn to <a href="https://www.cnn.com/style/article/bio-art-microbes-and-machines/index.html">awe-inducing visualizations</a> as a way to explain the unexplainable.</p>
<p>The <a href="https://faseb.org/partnerships-and-outreach/bioart">BioArt Scientific Image and Video Competition</a>, administered by the <a href="https://www.faseb.org/">Federation of American Societies for Experimental Biology</a>, shares images rarely seen outside the laboratory with the public in order to introduce and educate laypeople about the wonder often associated with biological research. BioArt and similar contests reflect the lengthy history of using imagery to elucidate science. </p>
<h2>A historical and intellectual moment</h2>
<p>The <a href="https://www.livescience.com/55230-renaissance.html">Renaissance</a>, a period in European history between the 14th and 17th centuries, breathed new life into both science and art. It brought together the fledgling discipline of <a href="https://www.encyclopedia.com/history/modern-europe/ancient-history-middle-ages-and-feudalism/natural-history">natural history</a> – a field of inquiry observing animals, plants and fungi in their ordinary environments – with artistic illustration. This allowed for wider study and classification of the natural world.</p>
<figure class="align-right zoomable">
<a href="https://images.theconversation.com/files/429597/original/file-20211101-15-95l3wv.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=1000&fit=clip"><img alt="Peter Paul Ruben's 'Anatomical Studies: a left forearm in two positions and a right forearm'" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/429597/original/file-20211101-15-95l3wv.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=237&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/429597/original/file-20211101-15-95l3wv.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=865&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/429597/original/file-20211101-15-95l3wv.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=865&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/429597/original/file-20211101-15-95l3wv.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=865&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/429597/original/file-20211101-15-95l3wv.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=1086&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/429597/original/file-20211101-15-95l3wv.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=1086&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/429597/original/file-20211101-15-95l3wv.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=1086&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px"></a>
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">Art played a role in advancing the natural sciences in the Renaissance period, such as Rubens’ human anatomical studies.</span>
<span class="attribution"><a class="source" href="https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Anatomical_Studies-_a_left_forearm_in_two_positions_and_a_right_forearm_MET_DT3993.jpg">Peter Paul Rubens/The Metropolitan Museum of Art via Wikimedia Commons</a></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>Artists and artistic naturalists were also able to advance approaches to the study of nature by illustrating discoveries of early botanists and anatomists. Flemish artist Peter Paul Rubens, for example, offered remarkable insight into human anatomy in his <a href="https://www.illustrationhistory.org/essays/the-drawing-methods-and-techniques-of-peter-paul-rubens">famous anatomical drawings</a>.</p>
<p>This art-science formula was further democratized in the 17th and 18th centuries as the <a href="https://www.metmuseum.org/toah/hd/prnt/hd_prnt.htm">printing process became more sophisticated</a> and allowed early ornithologists and anatomists to publish and disseminate their elegant drawings. Initial popular entries included John James Audubon’s
“<a href="https://www.outsideonline.com/outdoor-adventure/environment/plaid-and-canvas-audubons-birds-america/">Birds of America</a>” and Charles Darwin’s “<a href="https://www.smithsonianmag.com/science-nature/beautiful-drawings-darwins-artist-residence-180954953/">The Origin of the Species</a>” – groundbreaking at the time for the clarity of their illustrations.</p>
<p>Publishers soon followed with well-received field guides and encyclopedias detailing observations of what were seen through early microscopes. For example, a Scottish encyclopedia published in 1859, “<a href="https://www.nms.ac.uk/collections-research/our-research/highlights-of-previous-projects/chambers-collection/">Chambers’s Encyclopaedia: A Dictionary of Universal Knowledge for the People</a>,” sought to broadly explain the natural world through woodblock illustrations of mammals, microorganisms, birds and reptiles.</p>
<p>These publications responded to the public’s demand for more news and views of the natural world. People formed amateur naturalist societies, hunted for fossils, and enjoyed trips to local zoos or menageries. By the 19th century, <a href="https://digpodcast.org/2018/04/29/natural-history-museums/">natural history museums</a> were being constructed around the world to share scientific knowledge through illustrations, models and real-life examples. Exhibits ranged from taxidermied animals to human organs preserved in liquid.</p>
<figure class="align-left zoomable">
<a href="https://images.theconversation.com/files/429604/original/file-20211101-13-1gmx9g8.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=1000&fit=clip"><img alt="Wilhelm Roentgen's X-ray photograph of his wife's hand" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/429604/original/file-20211101-13-1gmx9g8.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=237&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/429604/original/file-20211101-13-1gmx9g8.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=872&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/429604/original/file-20211101-13-1gmx9g8.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=872&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/429604/original/file-20211101-13-1gmx9g8.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=872&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/429604/original/file-20211101-13-1gmx9g8.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=1095&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/429604/original/file-20211101-13-1gmx9g8.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=1095&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/429604/original/file-20211101-13-1gmx9g8.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=1095&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px"></a>
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">The first X-ray image was the hand of X-ray discoverer Wilhelm Roentgen’s wife.</span>
<span class="attribution"><a class="source" href="https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Wilhelm-Roentgen's-X-ray-photograph-of-his-wife's-hand.png">Wilhelm Conrad Röntgen/Brockhaus Multimedial via Wikimedia Commons</a></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>What began as hand drawings has morphed over the past 150 years with the help of new technologies. The advent of sophisticated imaging techniques such as <a href="https://www.nde-ed.org/NDETechniques/Radiography/Introduction/history.xhtml">X-rays</a> in 1895, <a href="https://www.thermofisher.com/blog/microscopy/the-history-of-the-electron-microscope/">electron microscopes</a> in 1931, <a href="https://doi.org/10.1016/j.tcb.2011.09.007">3D modeling</a> in the 1960s and <a href="https://pubs.rsna.org/doi/10.1148/radiol.14140706">magnetic resonance imaging, or MRI</a> in 1973 made it easier for scientists to share what they were seeing in the lab. In fact, Wilhelm Roentgen, a physics professor who first discovered the X-ray, made the first human X-ray image with his wife’s hand.</p>
<p>Today, scientific publications including <a href="https://doi.org/10.1038/s41594-021-00587-5">Nature</a> and <a href="https://www.the-scientist.com/profession/bioscience-moves-into-galleries-as-bioart-52533">The Scientist</a> have taken to sharing their favorites with readers. Visualizations, whether through photography or video, are one more method for scientists to document, test and affirm their research.</p>
<h2>Science, art and K-12 education</h2>
<p>These science visualizations have found their way into classrooms, as K-12 schools add scientific photographs and videos to lesson plans. </p>
<p>Art museums, for example, have developed <a href="https://www.getty.edu/education/teachers/classroom_resources/curricula/art_science2/">science curricula based on art</a> to give students a glimpse of what science looks like. This can help promote <a href="https://doi.org/10.1073/pnas.1912436117">scientific literacy</a>, increasing both their understanding of basic scientific principles and their critical thinking skills.</p>
<p>Scientific literacy is especially important now. During a pandemic in which misinformation about COVID-19 and vaccines has been rampant, a better understanding of natural phenomena could help students learn how to make informed decisions about disease risk and transmission. Teaching scientific literacy gives students the skills to <a href="https://techonomy.com/2020/07/science-literacy-and-americas-covid-crisis/">evaluate the claims</a> of both scientists and public figures, whether they’re about COVID-19, the common cold or climate change.</p>
<figure class="align-center zoomable">
<a href="https://images.theconversation.com/files/430336/original/file-20211104-21148-1049jhf.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=1000&fit=clip"><img alt="Hindlimbs from chick embryos." src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/430336/original/file-20211104-21148-1049jhf.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/430336/original/file-20211104-21148-1049jhf.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=352&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/430336/original/file-20211104-21148-1049jhf.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=352&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/430336/original/file-20211104-21148-1049jhf.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=352&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/430336/original/file-20211104-21148-1049jhf.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=442&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/430336/original/file-20211104-21148-1049jhf.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=442&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/430336/original/file-20211104-21148-1049jhf.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=442&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px"></a>
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">A winner of the 2020 BioArt contest, this image shows hind limbs from chick embryos. The left limb is normal, while the right is a mutant. The yellow staining indicates the presence of a protein that marks progenitors of bone and cartilage development.</span>
<span class="attribution"><a class="source" href="https://faseb.org/FASEB/media/Page-Images/Partnerships%20and%20Outreach/BioArt/2020BioArtWinners/hindlimbs_1.jpg">Christian Bonatto/BioArt</a>, <a class="license" href="http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc-nd/4.0/">CC BY-NC-ND</a></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>However, science knowledge appears to be stagnating. The <a href="https://www.nationsreportcard.gov/science/?grade=4">2019 National Assessment of Education Progress</a> measures the science knowledge and scientific inquiry capabilities of U.S. public school students in grades 4, 8 and 12 from a scale of zero to 300. Scores stagnated for all grades from 2009 to 2019, hovering between 150 to 154.</p>
<p>[<em>Too busy to read another daily email?</em> <a href="https://memberservices.theconversation.com/newsletters/?source=inline-toobusy">Get one of The Conversation’s curated weekly newsletters</a>.]</p>
<p>A survey of K-12 teachers shows that 77% of elementary teachers spend <a href="https://www.nationsreportcard.gov/science/student-experiences/?grade=4">under four hours a week on science</a>. And the 2018 National Survey of Science and Mathematics Education found that K-3 students receive an average of only <a href="http://horizon-research.com/NSSME/2018-nssme/research-products/reports/highlights-2018-nssme">18 minutes of science instruction per day</a>, compared to 57 minutes in math.</p>
<p>Making science more visual may make <a href="https://www.firstdiscoverers.co.uk/science-education-early-childhood/">learning science at an early age</a> easier. It could also help students both understand scientific models and develop skills like teamwork and how to communicate complex concepts.</p>
<h2>Deepening scientific knowledge</h2>
<p>The <a href="https://faseb.org/partnerships-and-outreach/bioart">BioArt Scientific Image and Video Competition</a> was established 10 years ago to both give scientists an outlet to share their latest research and allow a wider audience to view bioscience from the researcher’s point of view.</p>
<figure class="align-right zoomable">
<a href="https://images.theconversation.com/files/432932/original/file-20211119-22-aruydm.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=1000&fit=clip"><img alt="Electron microscope image of HeLa cells infected with Listeria monocytogenes." src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/432932/original/file-20211119-22-aruydm.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=237&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/432932/original/file-20211119-22-aruydm.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=840&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/432932/original/file-20211119-22-aruydm.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=840&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/432932/original/file-20211119-22-aruydm.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=840&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/432932/original/file-20211119-22-aruydm.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=1056&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/432932/original/file-20211119-22-aruydm.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=1056&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/432932/original/file-20211119-22-aruydm.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=1056&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px"></a>
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">A winner of the 2020 BioArt contest, this image shows HeLa cells infected with the common but fatal foodborne pathogen Listeria monocytogenes.</span>
<span class="attribution"><a class="source" href="https://faseb.org/FASEB/media/Page-Images/Partnerships%20and%20Outreach/BioArt/2021BioArtWinners/dhanda.png">Arandeep Dhanda/BioArt</a>, <a class="license" href="http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc-nd/4.0/">CC BY-NC-ND</a></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>What’s unique about the BioArt competition is the diversity of submissions over the past decade. After all, bioscience encompasses the wide range of disciplines within the life sciences. The 2021 BioArt contest winners range from a <a href="https://faseb.org/FASEB/media/Page-Images/Partnerships%20and%20Outreach/BioArt/2021BioArtWinners/nacke.png">zebra fish embryo’s developing eye</a> to the shell of a species of <a href="https://faseb.org/FASEB/media/Page-Images/Partnerships%20and%20Outreach/BioArt/2021BioArtWinners/smith.png">96 million-year-old helochelydrid fossil turtle</a>.</p>
<p>I have served as a judge for the BioArt competition over the past five years. My appreciation for the science behind the images is often exceeded by my enjoyment of their beauty and technical skill. For instance, photography using <a href="https://www.popphoto.com/tips-pro-microscopic-photography/">polarized light</a>, which filters light waves so they oscillate in one direction instead of many directions, allows scientists to reveal what the otherwise hidden insides of samples look like.</p>
<p>Whether today or in the past, science elucidates the foundation of our world, both in miniature and at scale. It’s my hope that visually illuminating scientific processes and concepts can advance scientific literacy and give both students and the general public access to a deeper understanding of the natural world that they need to be informed citizens. That those images and videos are often beautiful is an added benefit.</p>
<figure>
<iframe width="440" height="260" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/1Q9j9QvHO4U?wmode=transparent&start=0" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen=""></iframe>
<figcaption><span class="caption">This video by 2021 BioArt winner Thomas Gebert shows a human intestinal organoid infected with rotavirus.</span></figcaption>
</figure><img src="https://counter.theconversation.com/content/168925/count.gif" alt="The Conversation" width="1" height="1" />
<p class="fine-print"><em><span>Chris Curran receives funding from the National Institutes of Health and the National Science Foundation. She is a member of the FASEB Board of Directors. </span></em></p>
Scientists have been using art to illuminate and share their research with the public for centuries. And art could be one way to bolster K-12 science education and scientific literacy in the public.
Chris Curran, Professor and Director Neuroscience Program, Northern Kentucky University
Licensed as Creative Commons – attribution, no derivatives.
tag:theconversation.com,2011:article/167250
2021-10-11T15:02:49Z
2021-10-11T15:02:49Z
The lynx may have survived in Scotland centuries later than previously thought, new study suggests
<figure><img src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/425492/original/file-20211008-22-zdm6q6.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&rect=0%2C0%2C3000%2C1998&q=45&auto=format&w=496&fit=clip" /><figcaption><span class="caption">A Eurasian lynx (_Lynx lynx_) in a woodland in the Czech Republic.</span> <span class="attribution"><a class="source" href="https://www.shutterstock.com/image-photo/eurasian-lynx-natural-environment-taken-czech-1626061564">Lubomir Novak/Shutterstock</a></span></figcaption></figure><p>The UK is one of the most nature-depleted countries on Earth, according to <a href="https://www.bbc.co.uk/news/science-environment-58859105">a recent assessment</a>, and ranks among the bottom 10% for biodiversity globally. Some conservationists are hoping to change that by reintroducing species from the island’s wilder past. One such candidate is the Eurasian lynx – a feline mammal.</p>
<p>As recently as 1974, experts like Anthony Dent, author of <a href="https://www.cambridge.org/core/journals/oryx/article/lost-beasts-of-britain-by-anthony-dent-harrap-285/2835B44F83EFDDD010E98A06B8A24B91">Lost Beasts of Britain</a>, believed that lynxes belonged with cave lions in Britain’s distant <a href="https://www.cambridge.org/core/journals/oryx/article/lost-beasts-of-britain-by-anthony-dent-harrap-285/2835B44F83EFDDD010E98A06B8A24B91">prehistoric past</a>. But this theory was challenged by zoologist David Hetherington and colleagues in 2005, when they presented radiocarbon dating evidence that lynxes were around as late as the <a href="https://onlinelibrary.wiley.com/doi/10.1002/jqs.960">fifth or sixth century AD</a> in north Yorkshire.</p>
<p>Although rare, lynxes <a href="https://www.sciencedirect.com/science/article/abs/pii/S0006320797000840">persisted</a> on isolated wooded mountains in Italy and elsewhere in western Europe as late as 1800. But until today, the most recent credible record of lynxes in Britain was a 16th-century letter from Polish author Bonarus of Balice to famous Swiss renaissance naturalist Conrad Gessner. The letter describes the best lynx skins as coming from Sweden, and, surprisingly, Scotland. In 2017 when writing about this source, <a href="https://www.euppublishing.com/doi/abs/10.3366/anh.2017.0452">I suggested</a> that it most likely referred to lynx furs imported to Scotland and then re-exported. But new evidence has made me reconsider my opinion.</p>
<p><a href="https://www.mammal.org.uk/wp-content/uploads/2021/10/MC2105_Raye-a-lynx-in-1760.pdf">In a study</a> published in the journal Mammal Communications, I present the most recent, and perhaps the most reliable British record yet. Richard Pococke’s Tour of Scotland, published 260 years ago in the year 1760, seems to describe a population of lynxes breeding near Auchencairn, a village near Kirkcudbright in Dumfries and Galloway, southwest Scotland. </p>
<h2>The missing lynx</h2>
<p>I first discovered this reference while gathering data for my Atlas of Early Modern Wildlife, a book which will map records of wildlife made by naturalists, local historians and travel writers in Britain and Ireland before the industrial revolution.</p>
<p>While the last securely dated remains of lynx come from two centuries after the Roman withdrawal from Britain, the new record falls in the Georgian period, not long after the Jacobite rising of 1745. The author, <a href="https://www.oxforddnb.com/view/10.1093/ref:odnb/9780198614128.001.0001/odnb-9780198614128-e-22432">Richard Pococke</a>, was at that time Bishop of Ossory, and a Fellow of the Royal Society. He was a well-known travel writer and wrote detailed notes on the historical, architectural and natural points of interest in the places he visited. Pococke’s record of what appears to be a breeding population of lynxes was one of these notes, made for the interest of his learned readers.</p>
<p>Pococke refers to 53 species over the course of Tours of Scotland. Many of these records, like the golden eagle, capercaillie (a large species of grouse) and mountain hare, are exciting for modern readers, but all bar the lynx are known to have been present in Scotland when Pococke visited.</p>
<p>Historical records of wildlife can be difficult to use. Not only is it possible that the author misunderstood what they saw and heard, but their record might be exaggerated, and our understanding of the record might be wrong. This record is an especially tricky one to interpret. One of the reasons it has escaped the notice of historians is that it refers to the species involved as “a wild cat”. I suggest it is a lynx based on the description. <a href="https://books.google.co.uk/books?id=b0gNAAAAIAAJ&vq=wild%20cat&pg=PA26#v=onepage&q&f=false">Pococke describes</a> a mammal three times as large as a “common cat” which was “yellow-red” with white breast and side and breeds in litters of two, in trees, and took poultry and lambs. </p>
<figure class="align-center zoomable">
<a href="https://images.theconversation.com/files/421145/original/file-20210914-23-140nb6x.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=1000&fit=clip"><img alt="An excerpt of text: '-ance of foxes. They have also a wild cat three times as big as the common cat, as the pollcat is less. they are of a yellow red colour, their breasts and sides white. They take fowls and lambs, and brede two at a time. I was assured that they sometimes bring forth in a large...'" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/421145/original/file-20210914-23-140nb6x.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/421145/original/file-20210914-23-140nb6x.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=260&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/421145/original/file-20210914-23-140nb6x.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=260&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/421145/original/file-20210914-23-140nb6x.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=260&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/421145/original/file-20210914-23-140nb6x.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=326&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/421145/original/file-20210914-23-140nb6x.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=326&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/421145/original/file-20210914-23-140nb6x.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=326&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px"></a>
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">Excerpt from Richard Pococke’s (1760) Tour of Scotland (Kemp ed. 1887).</span>
<span class="attribution"><span class="source">Kemp ed. 1887, Richard Pococke, Tours in Scotland 1747, 1750, 1760)</span>, <span class="license">Author provided</span></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>This description fits a lynx better than it fits other species known to be in the area.</p>
<figure class="align-center ">
<img alt="A ginger-white lynx with glazed look and tongue sticking out in field of buttercups." src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/421146/original/file-20210914-21-1qdoayq.JPG?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&rect=0%2C0%2C3264%2C2448&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/421146/original/file-20210914-21-1qdoayq.JPG?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=450&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/421146/original/file-20210914-21-1qdoayq.JPG?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=450&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/421146/original/file-20210914-21-1qdoayq.JPG?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=450&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/421146/original/file-20210914-21-1qdoayq.JPG?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=566&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/421146/original/file-20210914-21-1qdoayq.JPG?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=566&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/421146/original/file-20210914-21-1qdoayq.JPG?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=566&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px">
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">Fit the bill? A lynx at Camperdown Wildlife Centre, Dundee, Scotland.</span>
<span class="attribution"><span class="source">Martin Allen</span>, <span class="license">Author provided</span></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<h2>Reintroducing lynxes today</h2>
<p>This record is especially timely as the lynx is now being considered for reintroduction. The Lynx UK Trust has <a href="https://www.bbc.co.uk/news/uk-england-tyne-55956438">prepared a second application</a> to reintroduce lynxes to Kielder Forest in northeast England and a project called Lynx to Scotland has <a href="https://www.scotlandbigpicture.com//Images/2021/01/LtS%20press%20release%20v5.pdf">launched a consultation</a> about reintroducing lynxes there. </p>
<p>Returning lynxes to the wild in Britain is controversial because, unlike the osprey, sea eagle and red kite, the lynx was thought to have gone extinct much earlier. Critics of the reintroduction say that the landscape of Britain has <a href="https://www.nationalgeographic.co.uk/environment-and-conservation/2019/09/lynx-and-wolf-may-soon-be-roaming-britains-wild-places-again">changed too much</a> for lynxes to fit in. But if Pococke’s record is reliable, the lynx may have survived in Scotland much later than previously thought, and in conditions which are more similar to today. </p>
<p>For comparison, Scottish beavers were hunted to extinction <a href="https://books.google.co.uk/books?id=N_PJDwAAQBAJ&lpg=PT57&ots=X3MlcMz71I&dq=beaver%20scotland%20boece%20sibbald&pg=PT57#v=onepage&q=beaver%20scotland%20boece%20sibbald&f=false">in the 16th or 17th century</a> while the last breeding cranes were <a href="https://books.google.co.uk/books?id=eojo9c6d8_oC&lpg=PA67&ots=IXzvhmlHNc&dq=crane%20shrubb%201603&pg=PA67#v=onepage&q&f=false">recorded in 1603</a>. Both species have now reestablished breeding populations.</p>
<p>Supporters of lynx reintroduction sometimes suggest <a href="https://www.theguardian.com/environment/shortcuts/2017/jul/23/the-lynx-effect-sheep-farmers-rewilding-beavers-red-kites">it wouldn’t affect</a> industries in Scotland. But the lynx in Pococke’s 18th-century record was disruptive, taking lambs, poultry and grouse and enraging landowners who hired hunters to control the animals. </p>
<p>The lynx’s diet might have been a response to human activity. In 1760, the red deer and roe deer seem to have been extinct as wild species in Dumfries and Galloway. The mountain hare was also gone, the brown hare had not yet been introduced, and the rabbit was mainly a coastal species. Although the inaccessible mountain terrain offered some sanctuary to wildlife, woodland coverage is likely to have been <a href="https://books.google.co.uk/books?id=K5kkDQAAQBAJ&">below 10%</a>. These conditions are not suitable for the woodland-specialist lynx, which needs cover to ambush its prey, and likely contributed to the species’ extinction. </p>
<p>Lynxes reintroduced today would have <a href="https://www.gov.scot/publications/scotlands-forestry-strategy-20192029/documents/">double the woodland coverage</a> and plenty of natural prey, including rabbits, European hares and roe deer, giving them less reason to leave woodland and stalk sheep pasture, poultry farms or grouse moors. Compared with the situation encountered by the lonely and persecuted lynx of Pococke’s day, 21st-century Scotland seems far more hospitable.</p><img src="https://counter.theconversation.com/content/167250/count.gif" alt="The Conversation" width="1" height="1" />
<p class="fine-print"><em><span>Lee Raye does not work for, consult, own shares in or receive funding from any company or organisation that would benefit from this article, and has disclosed no relevant affiliations beyond their academic appointment.</span></em></p>
A new study suggests lynxes were in Britain as recently as the 18th century.
Lee Raye, Associate Lecturer in Arts and Humanities, The Open University
Licensed as Creative Commons – attribution, no derivatives.
tag:theconversation.com,2011:article/152193
2021-01-05T16:31:28Z
2021-01-05T16:31:28Z
Why David Attenborough cannot be replaced
<p>At a recent event on the history of wildlife documentaries, I was asked a question that has popped up regularly in my <a href="https://www.palgrave.com/gb/book/9783030199814">15 years of research</a>: “Who, do you think, will replace David Attenborough?”</p>
<p>Now that Sir David is gradually drawing his career to a close with the latest BBC documentary <a href="https://www.bbc.co.uk/programmes/p08xc2lh">A Perfect Planet</a>, the question appears more topical than ever. But still nobody has emerged to replace him at the top of the food chain. The short answer is that no one can replace David Attenborough because wildlife television – in Britain at least – is constructed around him. Take him away and the whole thing needs to be reinvented.</p>
<p>That Attenborough is irreplaceable has nothing to do with his exceptional individual qualities, but owes everything to the way he’s reached his position as the front-of-the-house person of British wildlife television. For sure, he is a <a href="https://theconversation.com/sir-david-attenborough-the-mesmerising-storyteller-of-the-natural-world-58949">mesmerising storyteller</a>. Yet wildlife television as it is experienced in Britain today came into being over several decades, and one outcome of this process was to establish Attenborough’s skills and approach as the gold-standard, and the man himself as the queen in the hive.</p>
<figure>
<iframe width="440" height="260" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/692fiaoJWy8?wmode=transparent&start=0" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen=""></iframe>
<figcaption><span class="caption">Attenborough has been on TV since the days of clipped ‘BBC English’ accents.</span></figcaption>
</figure>
<p>Attenborough began his work at the BBC in 1953. At the time, <a href="https://www.bbc.co.uk/news/av/uk-england-gloucestershire-35541103">Peter Scott</a> was the voice and face of nature on British television. Scott’s series Look was the BBC’s flagship programme and the standard every aspiring wildlife filmmaker aimed for. </p>
<p>With Look, Scott had transferred radio programmes to TV, adding images to the spoken word. In each episode, Scott introduced the work of amateur wildlife cameramen, on which he would improvise a loose commentary, before engaging in a rather guarded conversation with the filmmaker.</p>
<p>By contrast, at the same time, Attenborough was busy producing the successive Zoo Quest series. By the end of the decade, these story-based, scripted programmes, which took viewers on an adventure of discovery had become the most popular animal programmes on British television.</p>
<p>In 1965, Attenborough became BBC Two controller. In the years that followed, the BBC Natural History Unit in Bristol began to diversify its output. One strategy was to turn to Attenborough. </p>
<p>First as a model, when for example the unit recruited the naturalist Gerald Durrell to appear in clones of the Zoo Quest programmes in which Durrell could be seen collecting animals for his Jersey Zoo. Then as a contributor, in an effort to import “the Attenborough style” from London to Bristol, notably his habit of scripting in detail the commentary for his programmes, paying close attention to how the words matched the images.</p>
<figure class="align-center zoomable">
<a href="https://images.theconversation.com/files/377205/original/file-20210105-23-10hvvg9.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=1000&fit=clip"><img alt="A man with bird on his back kneels beside his daughter." src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/377205/original/file-20210105-23-10hvvg9.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/377205/original/file-20210105-23-10hvvg9.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=478&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/377205/original/file-20210105-23-10hvvg9.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=478&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/377205/original/file-20210105-23-10hvvg9.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=478&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/377205/original/file-20210105-23-10hvvg9.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=600&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/377205/original/file-20210105-23-10hvvg9.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=600&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/377205/original/file-20210105-23-10hvvg9.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=600&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px"></a>
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">Attenborough, his daughter, and a sulphur-crested cockatoo, 1957.</span>
<span class="attribution"><span class="source">PA Archive</span></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>During his tenure in BBC management from 1965 to 1972, Attenborough profoundly reformed wildlife television. Getting rid of Look, he severed the link with amateur natural history, instead forging an association with scientists working on animal behaviour and evolution through programmes such as <a href="https://www.bbc.co.uk/blogs/bbchistoryresearch/entries/e9c3c4e7-33c8-4b9a-a0fb-9121cc47a7d5">Life</a>. </p>
<p>He also promoted the use of pre-recorded material over live sequences, instituting post-production as the key moment in wildlife television-making. Tightly controlled visual performances resting on skilled presenters could then be assembled to produce specific effects on viewers. </p>
<p>When, in November 1972, David Attenborough resigned from his managing position to become a freelance programme maker for the BBC, the professional culture of wildlife television making had changed in such a way that it was easier for him to play a central role in it as a presenter.</p>
<p>From the moment he became a freelancer, the BBC took an active part in fashioning David Attenborough as the voice and face of nature on British television. One of his first contracts with the Natural History Unit was to record the commentary for several episodes of the BBC film-based series The World about Us, which Attenborough himself had launched in 1967 when controller of BBC Two. </p>
<p>Then came Eastward with Attenborough in 1973. The series set in Borneo was meant to reconnect Attenborough with his public. Positive reviews framed the series as the return of the <a href="https://www.palgrave.com/gb/book/9783030199814">prodigal son of wildlife television</a>. And in 1977 he became the narrator of the weekly series Wildlife on One, which ran until 2005.</p>
<figure class="align-center zoomable">
<a href="https://images.theconversation.com/files/377209/original/file-20210105-15-l7rryo.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=1000&fit=clip"><img alt="Street art of David Attenborough and a colourful bird" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/377209/original/file-20210105-15-l7rryo.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/377209/original/file-20210105-15-l7rryo.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=337&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/377209/original/file-20210105-15-l7rryo.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=337&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/377209/original/file-20210105-15-l7rryo.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=337&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/377209/original/file-20210105-15-l7rryo.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=424&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/377209/original/file-20210105-15-l7rryo.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=424&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/377209/original/file-20210105-15-l7rryo.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=424&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px"></a>
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">An Attenborough mural in London, 2019.</span>
<span class="attribution"><a class="source" href="https://www.flickr.com/photos/34427470616@N01/47737516472">Duncan C / flickr; artist: ketones6000</a>, <a class="license" href="http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc-sa/4.0/">CC BY-NC-SA</a></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>But it was with <a href="https://www.bbc.co.uk/iplayer/episodes/b01qjcmb/life-on-earth">Life on Earth</a> (1979) that a new approach to producing wildlife television that rested entirely on Attenborough’s performance materialised. Scripting the series and working hand in hand with the producers in Bristol, Attenborough invented for himself the pivotal role of wildlife television writer and performer, wildlife storyteller. </p>
<p>In this role, he did not work for the series producers. Instead they worked for him, providing him with the visual background for his storytelling performance. Attenborough was aware that Life on Earth would consolidate his reputation, as he opposed any contract that would replace him with another presenter for the American version.</p>
<p>The decades since have been dominated by documentaries that are entirely dependent on Attenborough’s involvement and revolve around his performance as a wildlife storyteller. Replacing him will entail changing the very style of programmes that are produced. </p>
<p>Just like a new queen bee has to leave the hive and establish its own colony, for another personality to rise and become as central to wildlife television as David Attenborough is today, wildlife television will have to be reinvented, and different ways of showing nature on TV will have to be found. </p>
<p>What these will be, nobody can predict. My hunch is that it might involve fewer grand vistas and a return to amateur natural history with more down-to-earth, “wildlife on your doorstep” kind of programming.</p><img src="https://counter.theconversation.com/content/152193/count.gif" alt="The Conversation" width="1" height="1" />
<p class="fine-print"><em><span>Jean-Baptiste Gouyon does not work for, consult, own shares in or receive funding from any company or organisation that would benefit from this article, and has disclosed no relevant affiliations beyond their academic appointment.</span></em></p>
Wildlife television as we know it was constructed around Attenborough. Take him away and the whole thing needs to be reinvented.
Jean-Baptiste Gouyon, Associate professor in Science Communication, UCL
Licensed as Creative Commons – attribution, no derivatives.
tag:theconversation.com,2011:article/148293
2020-12-16T18:59:03Z
2020-12-16T18:59:03Z
Museum specimens could help fight the next pandemic – why preserving collections is crucial to future scientific discoveries
<figure><img src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/365929/original/file-20201027-21-1v9007u.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&rect=224%2C4%2C2677%2C2037&q=45&auto=format&w=496&fit=clip" /><figcaption><span class="caption">Behind the scenes, natural history museums store biological samples from the field.</span> <span class="attribution"><span class="source">Ryan Stephens</span>, <a class="license" href="http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nd/4.0/">CC BY-ND</a></span></figcaption></figure><p>Imagine yourself as the first naturalist to stand in a place where little recorded scientific knowledge exists, like <a href="https://theconversation.com/following-alfred-russel-wallaces-footsteps-to-borneo-where-he-penned-his-seminal-evolution-paper-99828">Alfred Russel Wallace in the Malay Archipelago</a> or <a href="https://theconversation.com/the-most-influential-scientist-you-may-never-have-heard-of-35285">Alexander von Humboldt in the Americas</a> in the early 1800s. The notes you record will expand humanity’s scientific knowledge of the natural world, and the specimens of plants and animals you collect are destined to be <a href="https://doi.org/10.1016/j.tree.2015.03.002">used for centuries</a> to describe past and present biodiversity and make new discoveries in biomedicine and beyond.</p>
<figure class="align-center zoomable">
<a href="https://images.theconversation.com/files/365910/original/file-20201027-23-1t3ozuw.JPG?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=1000&fit=clip"><img alt="" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/365910/original/file-20201027-23-1t3ozuw.JPG?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/365910/original/file-20201027-23-1t3ozuw.JPG?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=450&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/365910/original/file-20201027-23-1t3ozuw.JPG?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=450&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/365910/original/file-20201027-23-1t3ozuw.JPG?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=450&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/365910/original/file-20201027-23-1t3ozuw.JPG?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=566&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/365910/original/file-20201027-23-1t3ozuw.JPG?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=566&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/365910/original/file-20201027-23-1t3ozuw.JPG?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=566&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px"></a>
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">A biological field crew surveying small mammal diversity in Panama. They sample different tissue types, internal and external parasites and the bacterial and viral communities of animal hosts. The data are then digitally stored in museum databases and the physical specimens are archived in museum biorepositories.</span>
<span class="attribution"><span class="source">Jonathan L. Dunnum</span>, <a class="license" href="http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nd/4.0/">CC BY-ND</a></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>Now, imagine if those specimens were never collected.</p>
<p>That’s what it’s like if samples from the field are not archived. Natural history museums are the guardians of specimens, ensuring their future availability to the scientific community on shelves, in libraries and through curated <a href="https://arctos.database.museum/">online databases</a>. Yet, despite scientists <a href="https://doi.org/10.1579/0044-7447(2008)37%5B114:ECITBS%5D2.0.CO;2">continuing to sample the natural world</a>, <a href="https://doi.org/10.7717/peerj.1168">many specimens are not</a> <a href="https://doi.org/10.1007/s00442-020-04620-0">ending up in biorepositories</a>. If specimens are not archived, the next generation of scientists will inevitably have to reinvent the wheel, spending more time and money resampling the world’s species and geography to answer future questions.</p>
<p>There’s a variety of reasons that specimens don’t get saved, including insufficient museum-based training among newer generations of scientists, poor funding of natural history collections and a lapse in data priorities from organizations that fund and disseminate scientific knowledge.</p>
<p><a href="https://doi.org/10.1093/biosci/biaa146">In a new paper published in the journal BioScience</a>, <a href="https://jpcolella.weebly.com/">we</a> <a href="https://www.mclean-lab.org/">and our colleagues</a> outline how existing loopholes in U.S. federal data policies, backward data priorities by scientific journals and a culture of data ownership have made it too easy for research specimens to be discarded. This problem stands to <a href="https://doi.org/10.1007/s00442-020-04620-0">hamstring scientific progress</a>. But, it’s not too late to change.</p>
<h2>Old specimens, new discoveries</h2>
<figure class="align-right zoomable">
<a href="https://images.theconversation.com/files/365902/original/file-20201027-17-1lvnggn.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=1000&fit=clip"><img alt="bat specimens in drawers" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/365902/original/file-20201027-17-1lvnggn.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=237&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/365902/original/file-20201027-17-1lvnggn.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=867&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/365902/original/file-20201027-17-1lvnggn.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=867&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/365902/original/file-20201027-17-1lvnggn.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=867&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/365902/original/file-20201027-17-1lvnggn.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=1090&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/365902/original/file-20201027-17-1lvnggn.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=1090&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/365902/original/file-20201027-17-1lvnggn.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=1090&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px"></a>
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">Bat specimens preserved at the Museum of Southwestern Biology at the University of New Mexico.</span>
<span class="attribution"><span class="source">Jonathan L. Dunnum</span>, <a class="license" href="http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nd/4.0/">CC BY-ND</a></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>When archived in museums, specimens – literally, the bones, skins and tissues of biodiversity – can be used and reused to answer <a href="https://doi.org/10.1098/rstb.2017.0387">new scientific questions over time</a>, including many of <a href="https://doi.org/10.1371/journal.pbio.2006125">societal concern</a>.</p>
<p>An all-too-familiar example these days is the use of preserved tissues to trace the origins of zoonotic diseases – that is, diseases that come from animals. <a href="https://doi.org/10.1038/nature06536">Most emerging diseases in people are zoonotic</a>, including COVID-19, rabies, MERS and Ebola.</p>
<p>Properly preserved wildlife specimens, often collected for a completely different purpose – wildlife conservation or ecological research, for example – make museum biorepositories a <a href="https://doi.org/10.1093/biosci/biaa064">vital player in public health research</a>. Each archived sample can be used to identify the wildlife sources of a disease, monitor changes in disease prevalence and distribution over time, and identify environmental variables that may lead to spillover into people.</p>
<figure class="align-center zoomable">
<a href="https://images.theconversation.com/files/365908/original/file-20201027-16-1g1h0xp.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=1000&fit=clip"><img alt="scientists studying archived specimens" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/365908/original/file-20201027-16-1g1h0xp.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/365908/original/file-20201027-16-1g1h0xp.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=425&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/365908/original/file-20201027-16-1g1h0xp.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=425&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/365908/original/file-20201027-16-1g1h0xp.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=425&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/365908/original/file-20201027-16-1g1h0xp.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=534&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/365908/original/file-20201027-16-1g1h0xp.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=534&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/365908/original/file-20201027-16-1g1h0xp.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=534&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px"></a>
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">Museum and biomedical researchers surveying southwestern rodent populations to respond to the 1993 hantavirus spillover event.</span>
<span class="attribution"><span class="source">Jonathan L. Dunnum</span>, <a class="license" href="http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nd/4.0/">CC BY-ND</a></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>In the early 1990s, an unknown lethal virus jumped into humans, killing 13 people in the American Southwest. Mammal specimens, originally sampled for other reasons and preserved at the <a href="http://msb.unm.edu/divisions/mammals/index.html">Museum of Southwestern Biology</a>, were used by researchers to identify the pathogen as a hantavirus and its wildlife source as deer mice. Museum specimens also provided evidence that the virus had been circulating in Southwestern rodent populations for over a decade, and its emergence in humans was linked to El Niño climate cycles. In this way, museum collections provide hard evidence for rapid, <a href="https://doi.org/10.1641/0006-3568(2002)052%5B0989:TEAEHO%5D2.0.CO;2">scientifically informed public health guidance</a>.</p>
<p>Unfortunately, the origins of <a href="https://www.sciencemag.org/news/2020/07/who-led-mission-may-investigate-pandemic-s-origin-here-are-key-questions-ask">COVID-19 have been harder to pinpoint</a> – in part because the number and diversity of specimens available to the scientific community, particularly from Asia and other remote regions, is decreasing.</p>
<h2>Federal policies can encourage preservation</h2>
<p>The U.S. government has started to prioritize <a href="https://doi.org/10.3389/fbioe.2019.00021">genomic data security</a>, but it is not the first to recognize the importance of these data. Currently, the majority of American genetic data is owned by foreign entities, most <a href="https://www.ft.com/content/245a7c60-6880-11e7-9a66-93fb352ba1fe">notably Russia and China</a>, as a consequence of lax international biosecurity measures and substantial foreign investment in genomics and biomedicine.</p>
<p>In response, the <a href="https://www.federalregister.gov/documents/2014/08/28/2014-20385/final-nih-genomic-data-sharing-policy">National Institutes of Health Genomic Data Sharing Policy</a> now promotes archiving molecular sequence data (that is, DNA and RNA) generated from tissue samples. </p>
<p>This policy is a step in the right direction, but it fails to address equivalent archival requirements for specimens – the raw material for many DNA sequences used in biodiversity and biomedical research. The irrevocable loss of specimens poses a major risk to <a href="https://www.nationalacademies.org/our-work/biological-collections-their-past-present-and-future-contributions-and-options-for-sustaining-them">national security, public health and science</a>.</p>
<figure class="align-center zoomable">
<a href="https://images.theconversation.com/files/365903/original/file-20201027-13-b159zo.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=1000&fit=clip"><img alt="three rows of animal skulls" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/365903/original/file-20201027-13-b159zo.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/365903/original/file-20201027-13-b159zo.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=450&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/365903/original/file-20201027-13-b159zo.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=450&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/365903/original/file-20201027-13-b159zo.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=450&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/365903/original/file-20201027-13-b159zo.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=566&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/365903/original/file-20201027-13-b159zo.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=566&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/365903/original/file-20201027-13-b159zo.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=566&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px"></a>
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">Wolverine (<em>Gulo gulo</em>) crania collected over a federal researcher’s career, now being archived at the Museum of Southwestern Biology for continued scientific use.</span>
<span class="attribution"><span class="source">Jocelyn P. Colella</span>, <a class="license" href="http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nd/4.0/">CC BY-ND</a></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>Other federal agencies are also taking steps in the right direction, but there is room for improvement. For example, recent updates to the <a href="https://www.usgs.gov/products/scientific-collections/guide-planning-and-managing-scientific-working-collections-us">U.S. Geological Survey’s data policies</a> extend <a href="https://doi.org/10.1038/sdata.2016.18">“FAIR” principles</a> to species – meaning specimens must be Findable, Accessible, Interoperable and Reusable. USGS also holds the specimen’s collector responsible for ensuring its long-term care. Although these policies apply to USGS scientists, they’re a good model of specimen stewardship for the entire scientific community. </p>
<p>Unfortunately, in extreme cases, the same policy also allows specimens collected with federal funds to be destroyed if deemed “no longer of value or potential use [to] USGS.” Given the irreplaceable nature of specimens, we argue that destruction is rarely justifiable. Instead, preservation of specimens in museums at the conclusion of a project better aligns with <a href="https://fas.org/irp/offdocs/nsdd/nsdd-189.pdf">national mandates</a> to ensure <a href="https://www.congress.gov/bill/115th-congress/house-bill/4174">open publication of federal data</a> and helps meet the responsibility of making these data available to the public.</p>
<figure class="align-center zoomable">
<a href="https://images.theconversation.com/files/374566/original/file-20201212-19-a7prbx.jpeg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=1000&fit=clip"><img alt="frozen metal storage containers that hold biological samples" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/374566/original/file-20201212-19-a7prbx.jpeg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/374566/original/file-20201212-19-a7prbx.jpeg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=450&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/374566/original/file-20201212-19-a7prbx.jpeg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=450&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/374566/original/file-20201212-19-a7prbx.jpeg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=450&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/374566/original/file-20201212-19-a7prbx.jpeg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=566&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/374566/original/file-20201212-19-a7prbx.jpeg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=566&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/374566/original/file-20201212-19-a7prbx.jpeg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=566&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px"></a>
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">Frozen tissues stored at the Museum of Southwestern Biology’s Division of Genomic Resources. Tissue subsamples are loaned for use in genetic research.</span>
<span class="attribution"><span class="source">Museum of Southwestern Biology</span>, <a class="license" href="http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nd/4.0/">CC BY-ND</a></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<h2>Scientific journals can set a priority</h2>
<p>As federal guidelines take shape, scientists themselves have a responsibility to ensure responsible specimen archival to foster the democratization of biological science through increased access. </p>
<p>One place to act may be during the publication of research papers – a cornerstone of the scientific enterprise. </p>
<p><iframe id="8rm2f" class="tc-infographic-datawrapper" src="https://datawrapper.dwcdn.net/8rm2f/2/" height="400px" width="100%" style="border: none" frameborder="0"></iframe></p>
<p>More than half of the <a href="https://www.scimagojr.com/journalrank.php?area=1100&category=1105">top 100 journals in ecology, evolution, behavior and systematics</a> mention or require the permanent archival of DNA sequences. But <a href="https://doi.org/10.1093/biosci/biaa146">fewer than one-fifth have similar requirements for specimens</a>. If specimens are preserved, DNA sequences can always be regenerated.</p>
<p>Inconsistent data requirements across journals mean that authors can skirt the responsibility of archiving specimens by <a href="https://doi.org/10.1186/s13041-020-0552-2">sending their work to journals with looser policies</a>. During the peer-review process of both grant proposals and research papers, scientists – as editors and reviewers – have an opportunity to encourage responsible specimen archival. </p>
<h2>A history of ownership versus stewardship</h2>
<p>Inconsistent specimen archival may also reflect the broader approach to science, much of which is passed down from early Western naturalists – like Wallace and von Humboldt. There is a persistent ethos of data ownership, rather than stewardship, born from <a href="https://doi.org/10.1089/dst.2013.0013">competition among scientists</a> that ultimately fosters a <a href="https://doi.org/10.5334/dsj-2017-029">fear of being scooped</a>.</p>
<p>The <a href="https://www.bl.uk/collection-items/charles-darwin-natural-selection-letter">famous 19th-century correspondence</a> between Charles Darwin and Wallace, which prompted Darwin to quickly finalize his own writings on natural selection, is one example of such competition. But the tension over “who found it first” <a href="http://doi.org/10.5334/dsj-2017-029">is still with scientists today</a>. Museums have protocols in place to allay many of these fears, including delayed data release policies and temporary embargoes that allow researchers to finish projects before their data are made available to the public.</p>
<p>We and our colleagues <a href="https://doi.org/10.1093/biosci/biaa146">have proposed guidelines</a> aimed at turning the corner on downward trends in specimen preservation. We recommend integrating specimen stewardship plans into existing requirements for data management plans, by treating specimens as the primary data they are. Early collaboration, budgeting and planning between researchers and natural history museums will be essential to ensure that physical space and financial resources are available to store new collections. Normalizing specimen archival with museums will build a rich foundation of genetic resources for the next generation of scientists.</p>
<figure class="align-center zoomable">
<a href="https://images.theconversation.com/files/365937/original/file-20201027-18-nv5rdy.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=1000&fit=clip"><img alt="diagram of steps required to archive biological samples" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/365937/original/file-20201027-18-nv5rdy.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/365937/original/file-20201027-18-nv5rdy.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=750&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/365937/original/file-20201027-18-nv5rdy.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=750&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/365937/original/file-20201027-18-nv5rdy.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=750&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/365937/original/file-20201027-18-nv5rdy.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=943&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/365937/original/file-20201027-18-nv5rdy.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=943&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/365937/original/file-20201027-18-nv5rdy.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=943&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px"></a>
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">A guide on how to integrate specimens into data management plans. This process highlights the central role of biorepositories in specimen data security.</span>
<span class="attribution"><a class="source" href="https://doi.org/10.1093/biosci/biaa146">Colella et al. 2020</a>, <a class="license" href="http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nd/4.0/">CC BY-ND</a></span>
</figcaption>
</figure><img src="https://counter.theconversation.com/content/148293/count.gif" alt="The Conversation" width="1" height="1" />
<p class="fine-print"><em><span>Jocelyn P. Colella works for and volunteers with natural history museums, and regularly receives funding for this work.</span></em></p><p class="fine-print"><em><span>Bryan McLean works extensively with natural history specimens, and regularly receives funding for this work.</span></em></p>
Specimen preservation means researchers don’t need to reinvent the wheel each time they ask a new question, making it critical for the advancement of science. But many specimens are discarded or lost.
Jocelyn P. Colella, Assistant Professor of Ecology & Evolutionary Biology and Assistant Curator of Mammals, University of Kansas
Bryan McLean, Assistant Professor of Biology, University of North Carolina – Greensboro
Licensed as Creative Commons – attribution, no derivatives.
tag:theconversation.com,2011:article/148772
2020-10-27T21:12:37Z
2020-10-27T21:12:37Z
Giant ‘toothed’ birds flew over Antarctica 40 million to 50 million years ago
<figure><img src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/365550/original/file-20201026-21-t2z6hk.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&rect=9%2C14%2C3249%2C2013&q=45&auto=format&w=496&fit=clip" /><figcaption><span class="caption">Fossil remains indicate these birds had a wingspan of over 20 feet.</span> <span class="attribution"><span class="source">Brian Choo</span>, <a class="license" href="http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc-sa/4.0/">CC BY-NC-SA</a></span></figcaption></figure><p>Picture Antarctica today and what comes to mind? Large ice floes bobbing in the Southern Ocean? Maybe a remote outpost populated with scientists from around the world? Or perhaps colonies of penguins puttering amid vast open tracts of snow?</p>
<p>Fossils from Seymour Island, just off the Antarctic Peninsula, are painting a very different picture of what Antarctica looked like 40 to 50 million years ago – a time when the ecosystem was lusher and more diverse. Fossils of <a href="https://doi.org/10.1038/s41598-020-61973-5">frogs</a> and <a href="https://doi.org/10.1080/03115518.2011.565214">plants</a> such as ferns and conifers indicate Seymour Island was much warmer and less icy, while fossil remains from <a href="https://doi.org/10.7717/peerj.8268">marsupials and distant relatives of armadillos and anteaters</a> hint at the previous connections between Antarctica and other continents in the Southern Hemisphere.</p>
<p>There were also birds. Penguins were present then, as they are now, but fossil relatives of <a href="http://dx.doi.org/10.13679/j.advps.2019.0014">ducks, falcons and albatrosses</a> have also been found in Antarctica. My <a href="https://scholar.google.com/citations?user=5CGShQUAAAAJ&hl=en&oi=ao">colleagues</a> and <a href="https://scholar.google.com/citations?user=XlyfD9QAAAAJ&hl=en&oi=ao">I</a> published an <a href="https://doi.org/10.1038/s41598-020-75248-6">article in 2020</a> revealing new information about the fossil group that would have dwarfed all the other birds on Seymour Island: the pelagornithids, or “bony-toothed” birds. </p>
<h2>Giants of the sky</h2>
<p>As their name suggests, these ancient birds had sharp, bony spikes protruding from sawlike jaws. Resembling teeth, these spikes would have helped them catch squid or fish. We also studied another remarkable feature of the pelagornithids – their imposing size.</p>
<p>The largest flying bird alive today is the <a href="https://www.nationalgeographic.com/animals/birds/group/albatrosses/">wandering albatross</a>, which has a wingspan that reaches 11 ½ feet. The Antarctic pelagornithids fossils we studied have a wingspan nearly double that – about 21 feet across. If you tipped a two-story building on its side, that’s about 20 feet.</p>
<p>Across Earth’s history, very few groups of vertebrates have achieved powered flight – and only two reached truly giant sizes: birds and a group of <a href="https://www.amnh.org/exhibitions/pterosaurs-flight-in-the-age-of-dinosaurs/what-is-a-pterosaur">reptiles called pterosaurs</a>.</p>
<figure class="align-center zoomable">
<a href="https://images.theconversation.com/files/365561/original/file-20201026-23-p2l76b.JPG?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=1000&fit=clip"><img alt="A model of an enormous prehistoric bird is mounted outdoor in the middle of a river. The wingspan reaches from bank to bank." src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/365561/original/file-20201026-23-p2l76b.JPG?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/365561/original/file-20201026-23-p2l76b.JPG?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=399&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/365561/original/file-20201026-23-p2l76b.JPG?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=399&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/365561/original/file-20201026-23-p2l76b.JPG?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=399&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/365561/original/file-20201026-23-p2l76b.JPG?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=501&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/365561/original/file-20201026-23-p2l76b.JPG?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=501&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/365561/original/file-20201026-23-p2l76b.JPG?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=501&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px"></a>
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">Full-size model of a Quetzalcoatlus on display at JuraPark in Baltow, Poland.</span>
<span class="attribution"><a class="source" href="https://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/5/5c/Kecalkoatl_%28Quetzalcoatlus%29_-_Baltow_%281%29.JPG">Aneta Leszkiewicz/Wikimedia</a></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>Pterosaurs ruled the skies during the Mesozoic Era (252 million to 66 million years ago), the same period that dinosaurs roamed the planet, and they reached hard-to-believe dimensions. <a href="https://www.wired.com/2013/11/absurd-creature-of-the-week-quetz/">Quetzalcoatlus</a> stood 16 feet tall and had a colossal 33-foot wingspan.</p>
<h2>Birds get their opportunity</h2>
<p>Birds originated while dinosaurs and pterosaurs were still roaming the planet. But when an <a href="https://www.smithsonianmag.com/science-nature/dinosaur-killing-asteroid-impact-chicxulub-crater-timeline-destruction-180973075/">asteroid struck the Yucatan Peninsula 66 million years ago</a>, dinosaurs and pterosaurs both perished. Some <a href="https://www.audubon.org/news/how-birds-survived-asteroid-impact-wiped-out-dinosaurs">select birds survived</a>, though. These survivors diversified into the thousands of bird species alive today. Pelagornithids evolved in the period right after dinosaur and pterosaur extinction, when competition for food was lessened. </p>
<p><a href="https://doi.org/10.1002/spp2.1284">The earliest pelagornithid remains</a>, recovered from 62-million-year-old sediments in New Zealand, were about the size of modern gulls. The first giant pelagornithids, the ones in our study, <a href="https://doi.org/10.1038/s41598-020-75248-6">took flight over Antarctica about 10 million years later</a>, in a period called the Eocene Epoch (56 million to 33.9 million years ago). In addition to these specimens, fossilized remains from other pelagornithids have been found on every continent. </p>
<p>Pelagornithids lasted for about 60 million years before going extinct just before the Pleistocene Epoch (2.5 million to 11,700 years ago). No one knows exactly why, though, because few fossil records have been recovered from the period at the end of their reign. Some paleontologists cite <a href="https://doi.org/10.1080/02724634.2011.562268">climate change as a possible factor</a>.</p>
<h2>Piecing it together</h2>
<p>The fossils we studied are fragments of whole bones collected by paleontologists from the University of California at Riverside in the 1980s. In 2003, the specimens were transferred to Berkeley, where they now reside in the <a href="https://ucmp.berkeley.edu/">University of California Museum of Paleontology</a>. </p>
<p>There isn’t enough material from Antarctica to rebuild an entire skeleton, but by comparing the fossil fragments with similar elements from more complete individuals, we were able to assess their size. </p>
<figure class="align-center zoomable">
<a href="https://images.theconversation.com/files/365552/original/file-20201026-17-1koc1h3.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=1000&fit=clip"><img alt="Photo of a fossil fragment of a jawbone section that has worn toothlike projections. Line drawing around it illustrates where in the jaw it would have fit." src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/365552/original/file-20201026-17-1koc1h3.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/365552/original/file-20201026-17-1koc1h3.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=573&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/365552/original/file-20201026-17-1koc1h3.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=573&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/365552/original/file-20201026-17-1koc1h3.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=573&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/365552/original/file-20201026-17-1koc1h3.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=720&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/365552/original/file-20201026-17-1koc1h3.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=720&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/365552/original/file-20201026-17-1koc1h3.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=720&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px"></a>
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">In life, the pelagornithid would have had numerous ‘teeth,’ making it a formidable predator.</span>
<span class="attribution"><span class="source">Peter Kloess</span>, <a class="license" href="http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc-sa/4.0/">CC BY-NC-SA</a></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>We estimate the pelagornithid’s skull would have been about 2 feet long. A fragment of one bird’s lower jaw preserves some of the “pseudoteeth” that would have each measured up to an inch tall. The spacing of those “teeth” and other measurements of the jaw show this fragment came from an individual as big as, if not bigger than, the largest known pelagornithids. </p>
<p>[<em>Deep knowledge, daily.</em> <a href="https://theconversation.com/us/newsletters/the-daily-3?utm_source=TCUS&utm_medium=inline-link&utm_campaign=newsletter-text&utm_content=deepknowledge">Sign up for The Conversation’s newsletter</a>.]</p>
<p>Further evidence of the size of these Antarctic birds comes from a second pelagornithid fossil, from a different location on Seymour Island. A section of a foot bone, called a tarsometatarsus, is the largest specimen known for the entire extinct group. </p>
<p>These pelagornithid fossil findings emphasize the importance of natural history collections. Successful field expeditions result in a wealth of material brought back to a museum or repository – but the time required to prepare, study and publish on fossils means these institutions typically <a href="https://theconversation.com/digitizing-the-vast-dark-data-in-museum-fossil-collections-102833">hold many more specimens than they can display</a>. Important discoveries can be made by collecting specimens on expeditions in remote locations, no doubt. But equally important discoveries can be made by simply processing the backlog of specimens already on hand.</p><img src="https://counter.theconversation.com/content/148772/count.gif" alt="The Conversation" width="1" height="1" />
<p class="fine-print"><em><span>Peter A. Kloess does not work for, consult, own shares in or receive funding from any company or organization that would benefit from this article, and has disclosed no relevant affiliations beyond their academic appointment.</span></em></p>
Paleontologists have discovered fossil remains belonging to an enormous ‘toothed’ bird that lived for a period of about 60 million years after dinosaurs.
Peter A. Kloess, Doctoral Candidate, Integrative Biology, University of California, Berkeley
Licensed as Creative Commons – attribution, no derivatives.
tag:theconversation.com,2011:article/106940
2020-09-25T04:12:34Z
2020-09-25T04:12:34Z
Australia’s natural history and native species should be on the citizenship test
<figure><img src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/359944/original/file-20200925-14-1d25382.JPG?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&rect=0%2C5%2C3872%2C2592&q=45&auto=format&w=496&fit=clip" /><figcaption><span class="caption">
</span> <span class="attribution"><span class="source">Thomas M Wilson</span>, <span class="license">Author provided</span></span></figcaption></figure><p>Australia’s <a href="https://theconversation.com/the-new-australian-citizenship-test-can-you-really-test-values-via-multiple-choice-146574">proposed changes to the citizenship test</a> has raised questions about whether you can really evaluate someone’s “Australian values” via a set of exam questions.</p>
<p>But here’s another question not even considered by the test: should Australian citizenship entail a knowledge and appreciation of Australia’s unique wildlife and natural history?</p>
<p>At its heart, this is a question about what it truly means to be an Australian. Some would argue I’m not qualified even to ask it. My ancestors arrived in Perth in 1830 from England and unloaded plenty of inappropriate cultural baggage, including <a href="https://theconversation.com/for-whom-the-bell-tolls-cats-kill-more-than-a-million-australian-birds-every-day-85084">cats</a>, onto the shores of Australia. </p>
<p>Modern Australia is both an ancient land of hundreds of different languages and cultures, and a creation of transplanted Europeans who have sought to establish Western democratic ideals such as freedom of speech. There have also been many waves of economic migrants or those fleeing persecution and violence in their homelands. </p>
<p>With democratic ideals attacked or disregarded in many parts of the world, Australia’s citizenship test aims to ensure new citizens have a shared knowledge of these values and responsibilities. The <a href="https://immi.homeaffairs.gov.au/citizenship/test-and-interview/prepare-for-test/practice-test">current test</a> puts a lot of emphasis on knowing about free speech, the constitution, and how parliaments are organised.</p>
<p>But being Australian shouldn’t just mean agreeing with the principles of free speech and deliberative democracy. In 2006, the Australian author William J. Lines published <a href="https://books.google.com.au/books/about/Patriots.html?id=BUIvEeBB4IwC&redir_esc=y">Patriots: Defending Australia’s Natural Heritage</a>. The title presupposes that being Australian is bound up with knowing and appreciating at least a little of Australia’s heritage of unique lifeforms and ecosystems. </p>
<p>My own book, <a href="https://www.fremantlepress.com.au/products/stepping-off-rewilding-and-belonging-in-the-south-west">Stepping Off: Rewilding and Belonging in the South West</a>, published in 2017, also champions the idea of embracing the natural environment as part of one’s identity, with a particular focus on Perth and Australia’s southwest corner, an internationally recognised <a href="https://theconversation.com/australias-south-west-a-hotspot-for-wildlife-and-plants-that-deserves-world-heritage-status-54885">hotspot</a> for unique plants and animals.</p>
<h2>An appreciation of Australia</h2>
<p>In my book I lament some aspects of the “Britanisation” of this country by my forebears. I also decry the smooth surface that corporate globalisation has more recently smeared over our modern cities. </p>
<p>As a counterbalance to these forces, I suggest other ways of “becoming Australian” that might help us live more gracefully and sustainably on this landscape.</p>
<hr>
<p>
<em>
<strong>
Read more:
<a href="https://theconversation.com/why-so-many-australian-species-are-yet-to-be-named-59237">Why so many Australian species are yet to be named</a>
</strong>
</em>
</p>
<hr>
<p>What if we asked prospective Australian citizens to know and value the land on which we live, and the living things with which we share it? This might involve knowing facts such as:</p>
<ul>
<li><p>much of southern Australia is geologically ancient, and broke from Antarctica around 40 million years ago before drifting north alone, evolving thousands of unique species</p></li>
<li><p>a eucalyptus leaf contains oils that can cause massive explosions in the forest canopy when fires tear through the environment, but which can also be used in kitchen detergents</p></li>
<li><p>Australia has about 70 species of macropod, of which kangaroos and wallabies are just two examples, and kangaroo meat is more sustainable than beef or lamb because of its low carbon footprint and its softer impact on the landscape compared with hoofed animals</p></li>
<li><p>a <a href="https://www.australianwildlife.org/wildlife/western-quoll-chuditch/">chuditch</a> (or a quoll on the eastern side of the country), is a small carnivorous marsupial that is very friendly, although it’s (sadly) illegal to keep one as a pet.</p></li>
</ul>
<figure class="align-center ">
<img alt="Chuditch" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/359945/original/file-20200925-22-1f8xzmg.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/359945/original/file-20200925-22-1f8xzmg.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=544&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/359945/original/file-20200925-22-1f8xzmg.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=544&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/359945/original/file-20200925-22-1f8xzmg.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=544&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/359945/original/file-20200925-22-1f8xzmg.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=683&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/359945/original/file-20200925-22-1f8xzmg.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=683&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/359945/original/file-20200925-22-1f8xzmg.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=683&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px">
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">Do you know a chuditch when you see one?</span>
<span class="attribution"><span class="source">SJ Bennett/Wikimedia Commons</span>, <a class="license" href="http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/4.0/">CC BY-SA</a></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>I’m not suggesting throwing the baby out with the bathwater. I appreciate many of the legacies of Western civilisation, including freedom of speech, deliberative democracy, and the rule of law by an independent judiciary. Of course being Australian should mean accepting these central tenets. </p>
<hr>
<p>
<em>
<strong>
Read more:
<a href="https://theconversation.com/the-new-australian-citizenship-test-can-you-really-test-values-via-multiple-choice-146574">The new Australian citizenship test: can you really test 'values' via multiple choice?</a>
</strong>
</em>
</p>
<hr>
<p>But we should expect new arrivals to our shores — including those whose ancestors have been here for a couple of centuries — to supplement this culture with an understanding and appreciation of land and ecosystem we live in. These values are also more aligned with those of Indigenous Australian cultures. </p>
<p>Being Australian shouldn’t just mean knowing about federation and the ANZACs, mateship and Vegemite. It should also mean knowing at least a little of the plants and animals, stones and clouds, smells and sights, of our wide shared land.</p><img src="https://counter.theconversation.com/content/106940/count.gif" alt="The Conversation" width="1" height="1" />
<p class="fine-print"><em><span>Thomas M Wilson does not work for, consult, own shares in or receive funding from any company or organisation that would benefit from this article, and has disclosed no relevant affiliations beyond their academic appointment.</span></em></p>
The revamped citizenship test would include questions focused on “Australian values”. But why not ask prospective Australians to show an understanding of our ancient landscape and unique species too?
Thomas M Wilson, Honorary Research Fellow in Literature and Environment, The University of Western Australia
Licensed as Creative Commons – attribution, no derivatives.
tag:theconversation.com,2011:article/142059
2020-07-14T15:03:27Z
2020-07-14T15:03:27Z
How we found the earliest glass production south of the Sahara, and what it means
<figure><img src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/347078/original/file-20200713-22-1eukx9.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=496&fit=clip" /><figcaption><span class="caption">Glass related artifacts excavated from Igbo Olokun, Ile Ife. Left: glass beads, Right: fragments of glass making crucibles</span> <span class="attribution"><span class="source">Courtesy Author </span></span></figcaption></figure><p>The story of humankind from the earliest times to the present is in many ways a story about technology. Archaeologists tend to study the <a href="https://books.google.co.uk/books?hl=en&lr=&id=WTFBDgAAQBAJ&oi=fnd&pg=PT8&dq=technological+invention+in+Archaeology&ots=C5JXQDTSvD&sig=HAcRelv27aBCVyfis1ksevLbVzQ&redir_esc=y#v=onepage&q=technological%20invention%20in%20Archaeology&f=false">development of technology</a> to show how people lived and how they interacted with their environment. </p>
<p>Discoveries of technological innovation and skill in ancient African societies have challenged western theories that had no place for such evidence. Western scholars tried instead to explain these findings as the result of external influence. For example the debate on the <a href="https://www.researchgate.net/profile/David_Killick/publication/276597030_Invention_and_Innovation_in_African_Iron-smelting_Technologies/links/55c3936908aea2d9bdc1c14b/Invention-and-Innovation-in-African-Iron-smelting-Technologies.pdf">invention of iron metallurgy in Africa</a> remains unsettled. And it took several decades before Africans were credited for the construction of the <a href="https://www.livescience.com/58200-great-zimbabwe.html">Great Zimbabwe stone architecture</a>. </p>
<p>My ongoing <a href="https://journals.sagepub.com/doi/full/10.1177/0021934717701915?casa_token=LWgM0HW2JogAAAAA%3Am4ADBvHiABED7fTeE5bITK3fH0qV0Cg7vpnIclIxa1feZ_xaNxYjNjgGz_1NGwwlknGpp5T9fq37Og&">research</a> is another example of how archaeological evidence continues to overturn assumptions about technology in African societies. I <a href="https://www.independent.co.uk/news/science/glass-africa-made-before-european-arrival-colonialisation-advanced-technology-a8168601.html">found</a> archaeological evidence of sophisticated indigenous glass technology at Ile-Ife, in southwest Nigeria, dated to about 1,000 years ago. </p>
<p>The evidence shows that the region was not just a consumer of glass made elsewhere but also contributed to technological development, innovation and creativity. It also suggests that glass beads were mass-produced at Ile-Ife and traded as prestige items. </p>
<h2>Looking for evidence</h2>
<p>The first evidence of glass made by humans <a href="https://books.google.co.uk/books?hl=en&lr=&id=13NUGa-v7egC&oi=fnd&pg=PR13&dq=early+glass+Julian+Henderson&ots=5UsqUqOcUO&sig=IvjaYvq6JOiQ2eJQLcFMqhFi2CI&redir_esc=y#v=onepage&q=early%20glass%20Julian%20Henderson&f=false">dates</a> to 2,500 BC. Globally, archaeologically known centres of primary glass production are few and concentrated in the Middle East, Mediterranean and Levant. </p>
<p>When investigating ancient glass making, archaeologists look for furnace remains, tools, finished objects, production waste, and presence or availability of raw materials. To complicate the matter, glass production does not generate much waste because failed products, scrapings, or droppings are added to and melted with the next batch. But sometimes archaeologists are fortunate to have more than one form of material relating to glass production to work with. This was the case at Ile-Ife, where my research on indigenous glass making has been going on for nearly a decade.</p>
<p>Over the years, we focused on a site called <a href="https://www.cambridge.org/core/journals/antiquity/article/ileife-and-igbo-olokun-in-the-history-of-glass-in-west-africa/271A101DC136996C91364464ED61A258">Igbo-Olokun</a>, where evidence of a glass workshop had been known for over a century but never studied in detail. We also studied archaeological materials stored in the Natural History Museum at <a href="https://oauife.edu.ng/">Obafemi Awolowo University</a> in Ile-Ife. </p>
<p>The findings from the archaeological excavations at Ile-Ife include several pits that appeared to be furnace ruins, over 20,000 glass beads, 1,500 <a href="https://www.researchgate.net/publication/325492856_The_Glass_Making_Crucibles_from_Ile-Ife_SW_Nigeria">crucible fragments</a> (ceramic vessels used in glass production), and several kilograms of glass waste. Another artifact from the site is <a href="https://onlinelibrary.wiley.com/doi/full/10.1111/j.1475-4754.2010.00521.x?casa_token=aJNubLH8i8gAAAAA%3A09uC3HMpTe8AFEK2k9SSgu6BeW621qGMSZbaZajqj7AM5ZhpGBCmVMeGxCSid8b5MRsqZnvrqRm6s2BQ">semi-finished glass</a>, which is the object of study of my recently <a href="https://www.cambridge.org/core/journals/antiquity/article/semifinished-glass-from-ileife-nigeria-implications-for-the-archaeology-of-glass-in-subsaharan-africa/850EB8666CF6946940A755AF416D2EF1">published work</a>. Semi-finished glass is a halfway vitrified glass. The raw materials for the glass have coagulated but not yet turned completely into glass.</p>
<p>Laboratory analysis of this material with my colleagues <a href="https://www.cyi.ac.cy/index.php/starc/about-the-center/starc-our-people/author/943-thilo-rehren.html">Professor Thilo Rehren</a> and <a href="https://www.researchgate.net/profile/Laure_Dussubieux">Dr Laura Dussubieux</a> provided a better understanding of the <a href="https://www.sciencedirect.com/science/article/pii/S0305440317301851">chemical signature of the glass</a>. We could determine the source and types of the raw materials used, and decipher the technological process. </p>
<p>Results of the analysis show that Ile-Ife glass is chemically distinctive. It is now referred to as high lime high alumina (HLHA) glass – not known from anywhere else in the world.</p>
<h2>What this tells us</h2>
<p>The Ile-Ife site is the first known primary glass workshop in sub-Saharan Africa. Like their counterparts in other parts of the world, the glass makers at Ile-Ife explored the raw materials – geological and forest resources – that were available in the area. The concentration of the elements of the glass is consistent with that of the geological components in the region, which suggests that the glass makers invented their own glass recipe using the available resources. </p>
<p>The glass makers in ancient Ile-Ife used feldspar-rich granitic sand and/or pegmatite as the source of silica. They also used snail shell, which would have helped to reduce the melting temperature of the silicate materials and improve the quality of the glass. The quality was as good as glasses from other ancient societies. </p>
<p>Besides telling us how sophisticated this technology was, the research also tells us more about the role of West African forest communities in early regional commercial networks. We have established that bead was the main product manufactured at the workshop in Ile-Ife. It appears to have been produced in large quantities for <a href="https://books.google.co.uk/books?hl=en&lr=&id=gT9xDwAAQBAJ&oi=fnd&pg=PA7&dq=abidemi+babatunde+babalola&ots=-RLBItES9b&sig=wRs42CSlM2reHe7H3t8WuhcYgOI&redir_esc=y#v=onepage&q=abidemi%20babatunde%20babalola&f=false">trade</a>. This means Ile-Ife was a <a href="https://www.researchgate.net/publication/333809871_Medieval_Glass_Bead_Production_and_Exchange">producer and supplier of prestige items</a>. </p>
<p>It is known from the archaeological evidence that sub-Saharan Africa was entwined in global connection through importing items like glass <a href="https://www.sciencedirect.com/science/article/pii/S2352409X18304899?casa_token=x8F4izZWfFcAAAAA:r-dZ2604twub6TfQR8ludUZA5yxOSxsDaDtQAHe1h34uS2hgMQJJRRhbmM4fX3Fjkre3TPwDDfs">beads as far back as 600-400 BC</a>. But this luxury item was also available within the region a thousand years ago. </p>
<p>Africans patronised the local sources, circulating and consuming locally made items. Ile-Ife HLHA glass beads have been found in early West African trading towns and cities such as <a href="https://brill.com/view/journals/jaa/aop/article-10.1163-21915784-20200009/article-10.1163-21915784-20200009.xml">Gao</a> and <a href="https://www.tandfonline.com/doi/full/10.1080/00671990903047595?casa_token=1mK63qPFwZMAAAAA%3A_7CUP0QSgTE077N57Jqxcv8z9WwX599Szu84OQ0mV8lB3GsKanMSoXH3CHHAavQwsp2qvpOIo-1-dg&">Essouk</a> in what is now Mali, and among the glass beads used to adorn the elite burial <a href="https://www.thoughtco.com/igbo-ukwu-nigeria-site-171378">at Igbo Ukwu</a> in eastern Nigeria. </p>
<p>This research has illuminated an aspect of Africa’s past that is often misrepresented or completely obliterated. Africa has always contributed to global technological breakthroughs and economic systems. The continent has an untold history of creativity.</p><img src="https://counter.theconversation.com/content/142059/count.gif" alt="The Conversation" width="1" height="1" />
<p class="fine-print"><em><span>Abidemi Babatunde Babalola is the Smuts Research Fellow at the Center of African Studies, University of Cambridge. He receives funding from the Corning Museum of Glass, Rice University, Harvard University, UCL Qatar, A.G. Leventis Foundation, McDonald Institute of Archaeological Research, Cambridge-Africa Alborada, and Association of the History of Glass. </span></em></p>
Africa has always contributed to global technological breakthroughs and economic systems.
Abidemi Babatunde Babalola, Smuts Research Fellow in African Studies, University of Cambridge
Licensed as Creative Commons – attribution, no derivatives.
tag:theconversation.com,2011:article/128977
2020-01-16T16:13:32Z
2020-01-16T16:13:32Z
We found the genes that allowed plants to colonise land 500 million years ago
<figure><img src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/310266/original/file-20200115-134797-1vessnz.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&rect=6%2C0%2C4354%2C2909&q=45&auto=format&w=496&fit=clip" /><figcaption><span class="caption">Mosses are among the closest living relatives to Earth's first land plants.</span> <span class="attribution"><a class="source" href="https://www.shutterstock.com/image-photo/moss-close-shot-144211555?src=d16877be-e704-418d-bffc-4c572d2d4365-1-40">Arnon Polin/Shutterstock</a></span></figcaption></figure><p>The world 500 million years ago looked very different to today. The land was bare, with only bacteria, fungi and algae able to survive on it. Everything else lived in the ocean, but once plants moved onto land, they changed almost everything on Earth’s surface. They helped to create soils, rivers and the oxygen-rich atmosphere, which eventually allowed animals to live a life out of water. </p>
<p>Our study, recently published in <a href="https://doi.org/10.1016/j.cub.2019.11.090">Current Biology</a>, found that bursts of new genes helped plants make the move from water to land. The first land plants, like today’s flora, consisted of many cells with multiple functions that were controlled by thousands of genes made of DNA. We compared the complete gene sets of living plant species ranging from wheat to quinoa and were able to discover the genes which first enabled plants to colonise the land and change life on Earth forever.</p>
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<p>
<em>
<strong>
Read more:
<a href="https://theconversation.com/revealed-the-first-ever-flower-140m-years-ago-looked-like-a-magnolia-81861">Revealed: the first ever flower, 140m years ago, looked like a magnolia</a>
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<p>We found that two large groups of genes appeared in plants during the transition onto land. This means that the evolution of land plants was driven by the emergence of new genes, previously not seen in close relatives. We know this because natural selection removes genes that aren’t essential for the organism’s functioning, so if these genes didn’t play an important role, they would have been lost. </p>
<p>Interestingly, these new genes are found in all land plants in our study, which includes the flowering plants (tomato, rice and orchid), as well as the non-flowering plants (conifer, ginkgo and moss). This suggests that these genes were crucial for allowing plants to survive on land, but how did they help the forerunners of land plants adapt to their new environment?</p>
<figure class="align-center ">
<img alt="" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/309964/original/file-20200114-151829-em348o.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/309964/original/file-20200114-151829-em348o.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=520&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/309964/original/file-20200114-151829-em348o.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=520&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/309964/original/file-20200114-151829-em348o.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=520&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/309964/original/file-20200114-151829-em348o.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=653&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/309964/original/file-20200114-151829-em348o.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=653&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/309964/original/file-20200114-151829-em348o.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=653&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px">
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">When land plants evolved, the number of new genes in the plant kingdom exploded.</span>
<span class="attribution"><span class="source">Alexander Bowles, Author provided</span></span>
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</figure>
<h2>The first land plants</h2>
<p>Green algae are among the closest living relatives of the first land plants and are mostly found in aquatic ecosystems, like the ocean and rivers. They’re able to absorb water and nutrients from their surroundings. When plants first colonised land, they needed a new way to access nutrients and water without being immersed in it. </p>
<p>We found the genes that helped early land plants do this by developing rhizoids – root-like structures that helped them stay anchored in the ground and access water and nutrients. We also identified genes involved in gravitropism, which is what helps roots grow in the right direction. After all, a life out of water would have meant needing to know which way was down. These new genes helped plants coordinate the growth of rhizoids downward and ensure shoots grew up to maximise how much light they could absorb.</p>
<p>The transition of plants from water to land occurred in a landscape of extreme heat and light, and with little water. The genes we identified allowed early land plants to adapt to the stress of living outside of water, ensuring they could establish themselves and tolerate these harsh conditions. </p>
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<p>
<em>
<strong>
Read more:
<a href="https://theconversation.com/curious-kids-where-did-the-first-seed-come-from-109314">Curious Kids: where did the first seed come from?</a>
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</em>
</p>
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<p>A big difference between land plants and their close relatives, green algae, is that land plants develop embryos. In mosses and ferns, this embryo takes the form of a spore while in a lot of other plants, it’s the seed. We found genes that allowed the first land plants to produce and protect these embryos with specialised tissues that limited damage from ultraviolet light and heat.</p>
<p>By protecting the embryo, a plant increases the chances of its genes being passed on to the next generation, making them more likely to disperse and survive and allowing land plants to colonise the barren landscape.</p>
<figure class="align-center zoomable">
<a href="https://images.theconversation.com/files/309958/original/file-20200114-151829-1yfru3x.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=1000&fit=clip"><img alt="" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/309958/original/file-20200114-151829-1yfru3x.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/309958/original/file-20200114-151829-1yfru3x.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=400&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/309958/original/file-20200114-151829-1yfru3x.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=400&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/309958/original/file-20200114-151829-1yfru3x.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=400&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/309958/original/file-20200114-151829-1yfru3x.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=502&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/309958/original/file-20200114-151829-1yfru3x.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=502&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/309958/original/file-20200114-151829-1yfru3x.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=502&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px"></a>
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<span class="caption">The diversity of land plants and close algal relatives.</span>
<span class="attribution"><span class="source">Alexander Bowles, Author provided</span></span>
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<p>The movement of plants from water to land is one of the most momentous shifts in the history of life on Earth. The number of new genes that emerged as land plants evolved is far larger than at any other point in the evolutionary history of plants, even more than those that came with flowering plants. </p>
<p>This burst of new genes marks arguably the most important evolutionary development in the history of plant life. Previously, scientists thought gradual changes at the genetic level underpinned the emergence of plants on land. Now we know that the first land plants were able to produce an embryo, tolerate a range of environmental stresses and anchor themselves to land through an explosion of genetic innovations. These new genes enabled plants to dominate dry land, diversify into over 374,000 species and shape the modern ecosystems we see around the world today.</p><img src="https://counter.theconversation.com/content/128977/count.gif" alt="The Conversation" width="1" height="1" />
<p class="fine-print"><em><span>Alexander Bowles receives funding from the University of Essex. </span></em></p>
New research has pinpointed the genetic boost behind one of the biggest transformations of life on Earth.
Alexander Bowles, PhD Candidate in Plant Evolution, University of Essex
Licensed as Creative Commons – attribution, no derivatives.
tag:theconversation.com,2011:article/128648
2019-12-13T12:42:37Z
2019-12-13T12:42:37Z
Breathable atmospheres may be more common in the universe than we first thought
<figure><img src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/306102/original/file-20191210-95111-c94s3k.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&rect=0%2C0%2C4843%2C3465&q=45&auto=format&w=496&fit=clip" /><figcaption><span class="caption">
</span> <span class="attribution"><a class="source" href="https://www.shutterstock.com/image-photo/view-earth-space-blue-planet-deep-296927021">Studio23/Shutterstock</a></span></figcaption></figure><p>The existence of habitable alien worlds has been a mainstay of popular culture for more than a century. In the 19th century, astronomers believed that Martians might be using <a href="https://www.nasa.gov/audience/forstudents/postsecondary/features/F_Canali_and_First_Martians.html">canal-based transport links</a> to traverse the red planet. Now, despite living in an age when scientists can study planets light years from our own solar system, most new research continues to diminish the chances of finding other worlds on which humans could live. The biggest stumbling block may be oxygen – human settlers would need a high oxygen atmosphere in which to breathe.</p>
<p>So how were we so lucky to evolve on a planet with plenty of oxygen? <a href="https://www.nature.com/articles/nature13068">The history</a> of Earth’s oceans and atmosphere suggests that the rise to present-day levels of O₂ was pretty difficult. The current consensus is that Earth underwent a three-step rise in atmospheric and oceanic oxygen levels, the first being called the “Great Oxidation Event” at around 2.4 billion years ago. After that came the “Neoproterozoic Oxygenation Event” around 800 million years ago, and then finally the “Paleozoic Oxygenation Event” about 400 million years ago, when oxygen levels on Earth reached their modern peak of 21%.</p>
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<em>
<strong>
Read more:
<a href="https://theconversation.com/how-the-oldest-evidence-of-movement-could-change-what-we-know-about-life-on-earth-111759">How the oldest evidence of movement could change what we know about life on Earth</a>
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<p>What happened during these three periods to increase oxygen levels is a matter for debate. One idea is that new organisms “bioengineered” the planet, restructuring the atmosphere and oceans through either their metabolisms or their lifestyles. For example, the <a href="https://www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/pmc/articles/PMC5024600/">rise of land plants</a> roughly 400 million years ago could have increased oxygen in the atmosphere through land-based photosynthesis, taking over from photosynthetic bacteria in the ocean which have been the main oxygen producers for most of Earth’s history. Alternatively, <a href="https://www.nature.com/articles/s41467-019-10286-x">plate tectonic changes</a> or <a href="https://www.sciencedirect.com/science/article/pii/S0024493715004697">gigantic volcanic eruptions</a> have also been linked to the Earth’s oxygenation events.</p>
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<img alt="" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/306096/original/file-20191210-95130-1y45ozq.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/306096/original/file-20191210-95130-1y45ozq.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=447&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/306096/original/file-20191210-95130-1y45ozq.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=447&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/306096/original/file-20191210-95130-1y45ozq.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=447&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/306096/original/file-20191210-95130-1y45ozq.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=561&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/306096/original/file-20191210-95130-1y45ozq.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=561&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/306096/original/file-20191210-95130-1y45ozq.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=561&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px">
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">These stromatolites are the earliest fossil evidence of photosynthetic life. Shark Bay, Australia.</span>
<span class="attribution"><a class="source" href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Stromatolite#/media/File:Stromatolites_in_Sharkbay.jpg">Paul Harrison/Wikipedia</a>, <a class="license" href="http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/4.0/">CC BY-SA</a></span>
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<p>This event-based history of how oxygen came to be so plentiful on Earth implies that we’re very fortunate to be living on a high-oxygen world. If one volcanic eruption hadn’t happened, or a certain type of organism hadn’t evolved, then oxygen might have stalled at low levels. But <a href="https://science.sciencemag.org/lookup/doi/10.1126/science.aax6459">our latest research</a> suggests that this isn’t the case. We created a computer model of the Earth’s carbon, oxygen and phosphorus cycles and found that the oxygen transitions can be explained by the inherent dynamics of our planet and likely didn’t require any miraculous events.</p>
<h2>Phosphorus – the missing link</h2>
<p>One thing we think is missing from theories about Earth’s oxygenation is phosphorus. This nutrient is very important for photosynthetic bacteria and algae in the ocean. How much marine phosphorous there is will ultimately control how much oxygen is produced on Earth. This is still true today – and has been so since the evolution of photosynthetic microbes some three billion years ago. </p>
<p>Photosynthesis in the ocean depends on phosphorus, but high phosphate levels also drive consumption of oxygen in the deep ocean through a process called eutrophication. When photosynthetic microbes die, they decompose, which consumes oxygen from the water. As oxygen levels fall, sediments tend to release even more phosphorus. This feedback loop rapidly removes oxygen. This meant that oxygen levels in the oceans were able to change rapidly, but they were buffered over long timescales by another process involving the Earth’s mantle.</p>
<figure class="align-center ">
<img alt="" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/306097/original/file-20191210-95153-oclvff.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/306097/original/file-20191210-95153-oclvff.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=400&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/306097/original/file-20191210-95153-oclvff.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=400&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/306097/original/file-20191210-95153-oclvff.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=400&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/306097/original/file-20191210-95153-oclvff.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=503&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/306097/original/file-20191210-95153-oclvff.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=503&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/306097/original/file-20191210-95153-oclvff.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=503&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px">
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">Eutrophication can lead to an algal bloom. As microbes die and decompose, oxygen is stripped from the water.</span>
<span class="attribution"><a class="source" href="https://www.shutterstock.com/image-photo/dirty-green-toxic-water-contaminated-algae-294264227">Pumidol/Shutterstock</a></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>Throughout Earth’s history, volcanic activity has released gases that react with and remove oxygen from the atmosphere. These gas fluxes have subsided over time due to Earth’s mantle cooling, and our computer model suggests this slow reduction along with the initial evolution of photosynthetic life was all that was necessary to produce a series of step-change increases in oxygen levels.</p>
<hr>
<p>
<em>
<strong>
Read more:
<a href="https://theconversation.com/how-snowball-earth-volcanoes-altered-oceans-to-help-kickstart-animal-life-53280">How 'Snowball Earth' volcanoes altered oceans to help kickstart animal life</a>
</strong>
</em>
</p>
<hr>
<p>These stepped increases bear a clear resemblance to the three-step rise in oxygen that has occurred throughout Earth’s history. The model also supports our current <a href="https://science.sciencemag.org/content/297/5584/1137">understanding of ocean oxygenation</a>, which appears to have involved numerous cycles of oxygenation and deoxygenation before the oceans became resiliently oxygenated as they are today.</p>
<p>What is really exciting about all of this is that the oxygenation pattern can be created without the need for difficult and complex evolutionary leaps forward, or circumstantial catastrophic volcanic or tectonic events. So it appears that Earth’s oxygenation may have been inescapable once photosynthesis had evolved – and the chances of high oxygen worlds existing elsewhere could be much higher.</p><img src="https://counter.theconversation.com/content/128648/count.gif" alt="The Conversation" width="1" height="1" />
<p class="fine-print"><em><span>Benjamin J. W. Mills receives funding from the UK Natural Environment Research Council</span></em></p><p class="fine-print"><em><span>Lewis Alcott does not work for, consult, own shares in or receive funding from any company or organisation that would benefit from this article, and has disclosed no relevant affiliations beyond their academic appointment.</span></em></p>
New research suggests that Earth’s oxygenation didn’t require difficult and complex evolutionary leaps forward.
Lewis Alcott, PhD Researcher in Earth Science, University of Leeds
Benjamin J. W. Mills, Assocate Professor of Biogeochemical Modelling, University of Leeds
Licensed as Creative Commons – attribution, no derivatives.
tag:theconversation.com,2011:article/128093
2019-12-05T18:35:07Z
2019-12-05T18:35:07Z
Friday essay: living with fire and facing our fears
<figure><img src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/305118/original/file-20191204-70184-knqi2g.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=496&fit=clip" /><figcaption><span class="caption">The smouldering ruins of a child's bike lies amongst a property lost to bushfires in the Mid North Coast region of NSW last month.</span> <span class="attribution"><span class="source">Darren Pateman/AAP</span></span></figcaption></figure><p>It is only mid-November but we have to walk early to avoid the heat. A northerly wind picks up clouds of dust and pollen, sending dirty billows across the paddocks. The long limbs of the gum trees groan overhead. Leaves and twigs litter the road. We stop to pull a branch off to the side.</p>
<p>Not even summer yet and already we are facing our first catastrophic fire rating of the season. Normally, I don’t even worry much about fires until after Xmas. In the southern states, it is January and February that are the most dangerous.</p>
<p>We live in the Adelaide Hills and never schedule holidays away from home in those months, even though it is hot and unpleasant. Now I’m worried we will have to cancel our pre-Christmas holiday plans. Winter will be the only time we can leave.</p>
<p>We cross paths with a friend walking her dog. We share mutual exclamations about the weather and the risk and she reminds me about the neighbourhood fire group meeting. I should go. I know, better than most people, just how important and lifesaving they can be. But I just don’t want to.</p>
<p>On the weekend, my husband had made us start the fire pump. It’s good to make sure it is all working, but I harbour a vague, irrational resentment at having to be taught how to do it every year. I know why. Mike has all that mechanical knowledge embedded in his brain like a primary instinct, but the information trickles out of mine like water through sand. I cannot rely on remembering what to do in an emergency.</p>
<p>I know my limitations. I’ve attached a laminated, labelled diagram to the pump with numbered instructions on it. Leave nothing to chance. My daughters are running through the pump this year too – in case they find themselves home alone. </p>
<p>Fuel on, throttle on, choke on. </p>
<p>I worry that the pull cord will be too hard, but my youngest yanks at it with practised determination and the pump starts first go. </p>
<p>Choke off, throttle up, water on.</p>
<figure class="align-center zoomable">
<a href="https://images.theconversation.com/files/305086/original/file-20191204-70122-1hrgimn.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=1000&fit=clip"><img alt="" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/305086/original/file-20191204-70122-1hrgimn.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/305086/original/file-20191204-70122-1hrgimn.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=338&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/305086/original/file-20191204-70122-1hrgimn.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=338&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/305086/original/file-20191204-70122-1hrgimn.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=338&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/305086/original/file-20191204-70122-1hrgimn.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=424&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/305086/original/file-20191204-70122-1hrgimn.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=424&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/305086/original/file-20191204-70122-1hrgimn.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=424&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px"></a>
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">At the fire pump.</span>
<span class="attribution"><span class="source">Author provided</span></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>The sprinklers fire up a dull, thudding rhythm around the verandah, spraying a mist over the garden and the cat while Mike runs through the finer details of protecting the pump with a cover and sprinkler in the event of a fire.</p>
<p>I watch the garden soaking up the unexpected bounty and notice that some of the plants have gone a bit leggy. Their undergrowth is woody with age. I’ll have to cut that back, prune off the old growth. Some of them may have to go. Much as I love Australian plants and their waterwise habits, I can’t have many in the garden. Most of them are just too flammable.</p>
<p>Everything we do here, every decision we make, is shaped by fire risk: the garden, the house, our holidays, our movements, where we park the cars, our power and our water supply, even our telecommunications.</p>
<p>It is relentless. A friend of mine who went through Ash Wednesday said she was just tired, after 45 years, of the constant worry. She wanted to move somewhere safer. But she couldn’t bring herself to leave the bush.</p>
<p>Perhaps it would be easier not to know the risk, to live in ignorance.</p>
<figure class="align-center zoomable">
<a href="https://images.theconversation.com/files/305110/original/file-20191204-70133-1nkvveo.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=1000&fit=clip"><img alt="" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/305110/original/file-20191204-70133-1nkvveo.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/305110/original/file-20191204-70133-1nkvveo.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=338&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/305110/original/file-20191204-70133-1nkvveo.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=338&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/305110/original/file-20191204-70133-1nkvveo.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=338&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/305110/original/file-20191204-70133-1nkvveo.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=424&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/305110/original/file-20191204-70133-1nkvveo.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=424&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/305110/original/file-20191204-70133-1nkvveo.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=424&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px"></a>
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">Though the worry is constant, many people can’t bring themselves to leave the bush.</span>
<span class="attribution"><span class="source">Author provided</span></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<h2>‘Too busy’</h2>
<p>My local fire brigade had an open day a few weeks ago. The volunteers were busy for days, cleaning the shed, preparing the sausage sizzle. Lots of new people have moved into the area, mostly from the city, and chances are they don’t appreciate the risks of living in a bushfire-prone area. </p>
<p>The brigade put up signs, distributed flyers and knocked on doors with invitations. On the open day, I wander over and ask how many people have turned up.</p>
<p>“Oh about half a dozen,” says the captain brightly, before adding, “Well, maybe four actually. And only two of those are new.”</p>
<p>Someone asks about a family who has moved into a property down the road, a younger couple with kids and a stay-at-home dad. Would he be interested in joining the fire brigade?</p>
<p>“Said he was too busy. Maybe later when the kids are older.”</p>
<p>There are more and more people moving into the high risk urban fringes of our major cities, where houses mingle with flammable vegetation. Fewer and fewer people have the time or inclination to join their local volunteer fire brigade. </p>
<p>Many of them commute for work. They think fire-fighting is what happens when you ring 000. They don’t seem to realise that outside of the city, it is every community for itself. We have to fight our own fires.</p>
<hr>
<p>
<em>
<strong>
Read more:
<a href="https://theconversation.com/grim-fire-season-looms-but-many-australians-remain-unprepared-122711">Grim fire season looms but many Australians remain unprepared</a>
</strong>
</em>
</p>
<hr>
<figure class="align-center zoomable">
<a href="https://images.theconversation.com/files/305087/original/file-20191204-70144-4l4mik.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=1000&fit=clip"><img alt="" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/305087/original/file-20191204-70144-4l4mik.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/305087/original/file-20191204-70144-4l4mik.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=338&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/305087/original/file-20191204-70144-4l4mik.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=338&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/305087/original/file-20191204-70144-4l4mik.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=338&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/305087/original/file-20191204-70144-4l4mik.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=424&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/305087/original/file-20191204-70144-4l4mik.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=424&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/305087/original/file-20191204-70144-4l4mik.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=424&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px"></a>
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">Increasing population in the urban interface.</span>
<span class="attribution"><span class="source">Author provided.</span></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>I’m watching the news filled with images of the fires in New South Wales. Traumatised householders stand in front of the twisted wreckage of their homes. Tumbled masses of brick and iron are all that remain of a house full of memories.</p>
<p>“We never expected….”</p>
<p>“I’ve never seen….”</p>
<p>“I never imagined….”</p>
<p>No matter how well prepared we are for fires, we always underestimate the scale of the loss – the photos, the family pets, the mementos and heirlooms, or simply the decades of work building a house, a property, a business. </p>
<p>Looking at the television screen, I can’t help but notice the blackened tree trunks next to the ruins of their homes. I worked for a while in community safety for the Country Fire Authority when we lived in Victoria, researching and writing <a href="https://www.researchgate.net/publication/270275555_Coping_with_fire_Psychological_preparedness_for_bushfires">reports</a>, and later <a href="https://www.ligatu.re/book/a-future-in-flames/">a book</a>, on how people respond to bushfires. </p>
<p>I’m well versed in the risk factors – proximity to native vegetation, fuel loads, clearance around houses, house construction and maintenance and most importantly of all, human behaviour.</p>
<h2>Leaving is not easy</h2>
<p>I used to live in a forest too, with mature eucalypts surrounding my house. We always knew this was a risk. We cleared the undergrowth and removed any “ladders” of vegetation that could allow ground fires to climb the trees. We removed new saplings growing close to the house. </p>
<p>We did as much as we could to make our 1970s home fire safe: installing sprinklers, sealing the roof, covering all the timber fascias in metal cladding. </p>
<p>In an average fire, we probably would have been fine. But when the Kinglake fires approached from the north on Black Saturday, I was no longer sure we would survive. A last-minute wind change swept the fire away from our home.</p>
<figure class="align-center zoomable">
<a href="https://images.theconversation.com/files/305117/original/file-20191204-70155-axkqjg.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=1000&fit=clip"><img alt="" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/305117/original/file-20191204-70155-axkqjg.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/305117/original/file-20191204-70155-axkqjg.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=400&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/305117/original/file-20191204-70155-axkqjg.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=400&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/305117/original/file-20191204-70155-axkqjg.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=400&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/305117/original/file-20191204-70155-axkqjg.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=503&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/305117/original/file-20191204-70155-axkqjg.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=503&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/305117/original/file-20191204-70155-axkqjg.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=503&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px"></a>
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">Army personnel join Victoria Police in a search for bushfire victims in Kinglake area in 2009.</span>
<span class="attribution"><span class="source">Jo Dilorenzo/Department of Defence</span></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>Like many people, in and around the impact zone, the fires uprooted us and disconnected us. There were so many deaths, so many people and houses gone. And yet so many are still living in the same risky buildings, often rebuilt in the same risky locations. As if we never learn.</p>
<p>We no longer felt so attached to our home. When the opportunity to leave arose, we took it. When we moved to South Australia, we still wanted to live in the bush, despite the fire risk. But it seemed impossible to find a home that had been built for bushfire safety. </p>
<p>A real estate agent showed me an elevated timber home that looked out to the south-west across vast hectares of native forest. A death trap if ever there was one.</p>
<p>“Yes,” agreed the agent. “I’ll just have to find a buyer who doesn’t mind about that.”</p>
<p>Our new house is built of stone, steel and iron, with double-glazed windows and a simple roofline surrounded by sprinklers and hard paving. Every crack and crevice is sealed. And it sits in the middle of a cleared paddock surrounded by a low-flammability garden. We look out over the bushland from a safer distance.</p>
<p>When my children were small, I packed them up and took them into town on every or total fire ban day. It was the prevailing advice from fire authorities. I cannot recall anyone else who did so – it is too hard, too disruptive and too inconvenient. And what do you do with the pets and horses and sheep? Let alone farms and businesses whose assets are practically uninsurable.</p>
<p>Besides, there are so many total fire ban days and they are getting more and more frequent. We’d be leaving for all of summer soon and not everyone has somewhere safer to go.</p>
<p>My former colleagues at the CFA confirmed that <a href="https://www.sciencedirect.com/science/article/abs/pii/S037971120000014X">few people take this advice to leave on total fire ban days</a>. When the fire risk categories were upgraded to include “catastrophic”, people simply recalibrated their fire risk range to suit.</p>
<p>Now total fire ban days are everyday, ordinary events and people only talk about leaving if the risk is catastrophic or “code red”. And even then, few of them do. </p>
<p>That’s why fire agencies continue to put so much effort into teaching people how to stay and defend their homes – because that is where they are going to end up, no matter what they are told or what they say. After the shocking deaths on Black Saturday, urban politicians thundered in self-righteous fury.</p>
<p>“Why don’t you just tell people to leave?”</p>
<p>Like it is that easy.</p>
<figure class="align-center zoomable">
<a href="https://images.theconversation.com/files/305109/original/file-20191204-70167-xl1s1x.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=1000&fit=clip"><img alt="" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/305109/original/file-20191204-70167-xl1s1x.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/305109/original/file-20191204-70167-xl1s1x.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=450&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/305109/original/file-20191204-70167-xl1s1x.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=450&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/305109/original/file-20191204-70167-xl1s1x.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=450&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/305109/original/file-20191204-70167-xl1s1x.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=566&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/305109/original/file-20191204-70167-xl1s1x.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=566&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/305109/original/file-20191204-70167-xl1s1x.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=566&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px"></a>
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">A severe burn near Kinglake.</span>
<span class="attribution"><span class="source">Author provided</span></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<h2>Other people’s fates</h2>
<p>I’m reminded of the <a href="https://ajem.infoservices.com.au/items/AJEM-13-03-17">neighbourhood fire safety programs</a>. These are groups of neighbours in fire risk areas who meet up regularly to undertake training in fire preparation. They run in several states, such as <a href="https://www.cfa.vic.gov.au/plan-prepare/community-fireguard">Community Fireguard</a> in Victoria, <a href="https://www.cfs.sa.gov.au/site/resources/text_only/community_fire_safe.jsp">Community Fire Safe</a> in SA and <a href="https://www.fire.nsw.gov.au/page.php?id=133">Community Fire Units</a> in NSW.</p>
<p>Some of the groups in Victoria have continued for years, often meeting annually just before the fire season to run through their plans and discuss issues they might be having. They share advice on how to protect properties, what to do when things go wrong, whose house offers the safest refuge, who is leaving and who is staying. They establish phone trees to warn everyone of imminent dangers and to stay in touch.</p>
<p>I know <a href="https://www.researchgate.net/publication/337670275_A_review_of_the_role_of_Community_Fireguard_in_the_2009_Black_Saturday_bushfires">these programs work</a>. I surveyed many of the fireguard groups who survived Black Saturday and compared them to neighbours who weren’t in groups. </p>
<p>The active members of fireguard groups were more likely to defend their houses. Active members’ houses were also more likely to survive, even when they were not defended. A handful felt their training had not prepared them for the severity of the fires they faced. In truth, I don’t think anyone, not even the most experienced firefighter, expected the severity of those fires. But the vast majority were certain their training helped, and had saved their lives.</p>
<figure class="align-center zoomable">
<a href="https://images.theconversation.com/files/305088/original/file-20191204-70155-1sof6xh.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=1000&fit=clip"><img alt="" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/305088/original/file-20191204-70155-1sof6xh.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/305088/original/file-20191204-70155-1sof6xh.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=450&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/305088/original/file-20191204-70155-1sof6xh.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=450&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/305088/original/file-20191204-70155-1sof6xh.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=450&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/305088/original/file-20191204-70155-1sof6xh.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=566&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/305088/original/file-20191204-70155-1sof6xh.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=566&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/305088/original/file-20191204-70155-1sof6xh.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=566&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px"></a>
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">Burning off on private property.</span>
<span class="attribution"><span class="source">Author provided.</span></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>In every group, there are people who do the work and those who don’t. There are always neighbours who are too busy for the training and just ask for the notes, which they never read. They want to be on the phone tree, even though they have not prepared their property and have not thought about what they will do in an emergency. These “inactive” members do not seem to benefit from training. Their houses have the same loss rates as people who aren’t in fireguard groups. </p>
<p>No matter how much other members of the group support them and encourage them, it does not help. I’ve tried to help before, running a fireguard group, but I don’t want to do it again. I don’t want to hold myself responsible for other people’s fates. It is enough to take responsibility for myself and my family.</p>
<p>I remember the fireguard trainers who blamed themselves, who were blamed by others, when neighbourhoods they had worked with suffered deaths and house losses. They often targeted the riskiest locations, areas that were virtually indefensible. Their information was not always accepted.</p>
<p>Trainers, some of whom had lost friends, neighbours and houses in the fires themselves, felt criticised for advice that had not been given, and also for advice that had not been taken. You cannot defend yourself against such angry grief, particularly when you are carrying so much of your own. You just have to listen. A court of law, which looks only for someone to blame, is no place to resolve the <a href="https://www.stockandland.com.au/story/3640945/bushfire-commission-lashes-government-failures/">complexities of bushfire tragedies</a>.</p>
<p>I had originally thought, when I wrote <a href="https://www.ligatu.re/book/a-future-in-flames/">my book about bushfires</a>, that it would be a simple analysis of the lessons we had learnt. After the Black Saturday fires, I had to write a completely different book. I realised it wasn’t about lessons learnt (even though there are many), it was about our failure to learn from history, our astonishing capacity to repeat the mistakes of the past.</p>
<h2>Harder and harder to protect people</h2>
<p>“We never expected….”</p>
<p>“I’ve never seen….”</p>
<p>“I never imagined….”</p>
<p>The same things are said after every fire. Blaming a lack of prescribed burning in distant parks when we know that preparation within 100 metres of our own homes is far more important. </p>
<p>Waiting for an “official” warning, as an evil-looking, yellow-black cloud streams overhead and embers land sizzling in the pool beside you.</p>
<figure class="align-center zoomable">
<a href="https://images.theconversation.com/files/305116/original/file-20191204-70101-12pjnl0.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=1000&fit=clip"><img alt="" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/305116/original/file-20191204-70101-12pjnl0.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/305116/original/file-20191204-70101-12pjnl0.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=380&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/305116/original/file-20191204-70101-12pjnl0.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=380&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/305116/original/file-20191204-70101-12pjnl0.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=380&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/305116/original/file-20191204-70101-12pjnl0.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=478&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/305116/original/file-20191204-70101-12pjnl0.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=478&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/305116/original/file-20191204-70101-12pjnl0.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=478&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px"></a>
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">A bushfire north of Perth in 2018 sends smoke over the city.</span>
<span class="attribution"><span class="source">Sophie Moore/AAP</span></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>Politicians with slick, easy point-scoring ways that divert attention from their own policy obstruction.</p>
<p>The hopeful denial that bad things only happen to other people and won’t happen to us.</p>
<p>We’ve just experienced the <a href="https://www.facebook.com/bureauofmeteorology/videos/1577380252402576/?t=16">hottest year on record, and the second driest year on record</a>. We have lost <a href="https://pursuit.unimelb.edu.au/articles/why-are-our-rainforests-burning">rainforests that have not burnt</a> for millennia and may not recover. With climate change, <a href="https://www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/pmc/articles/PMC4785963/">fires have become more frequent</a> across all the Australian states, and with more extreme weather events, they are likely to become even <a href="https://theconversation.com/climate-change-will-make-fire-storms-more-likely-in-southeastern-australia-127225">less predictable and more dangerous</a>.</p>
<p>There is no avoiding the fact that for the next few decades, we face an increasingly dangerous environment. We have more people living in more dangerous areas, in a worsening climate. Our volunteer firefighters are ageing, and local brigades struggle to entice new members to join. It’s getting harder and harder to protect people.</p>
<p>It would be nice if there was a silver bullet to protect us. If broad-scale <a href="https://www.tandfonline.com/doi/abs/10.1080/08941920.2014.905894">prescribed burning in parks actually protected houses</a> and lives, or if we had enough fire trucks and water bombers to save us all.</p>
<p>It would be great if we had a cohesive suite of integrated bushfire policies across states, strong enough to survive from one generation to the next. They could include adequate building standards and <a href="https://www.resorgs.org.nz/wp-content/uploads/2017/07/resource_challenges_for_housing.pdf">access to materials</a>, effective <a href="https://ajem.infoservices.com.au/items/AJEM-27-04-09">planning and development codes</a>, <a href="https://eprints.qut.edu.au/63845/">integrated municipal, state and federal strategies</a> incorporating education, health and safety campaigns. We could create a culture of fire-awareness, rather than panicked responses to disasters followed by a long, inevitable slide into apathy and ennui.</p>
<p>Perhaps one day we will. But in the meantime, our best protection lies in our own hands, safeguarding our own property and making carefully considered plans in advance as to how to save our own lives. It is not an easy path, and one none of us wants to take. But in the end, we are the only ones who can do it.</p>
<p><em>To preserve anonymity the anecdote about a local fire brigade open day is based on multiple conversations in different brigades at different times. It represents a typical discussion had in brigades across the country and should not be taken to represent the views or behaviour of any brigades or individuals in particular.</em></p>
<p><em>Views expressed are the author’s own and do not reflect or represent those of the CFA or any other fire agency.</em></p><img src="https://counter.theconversation.com/content/128093/count.gif" alt="The Conversation" width="1" height="1" />
<p class="fine-print"><em><span>Danielle Clode previously received a State Library of Victoria fellowship while writing her book A Future in Flames. She was previously employed by the Country Fire Authority. </span></em></p>
Living in a bushfire-prone area means every decision - from plants to parking spots to holidays - is shaped by fire risk. We live and die by the advice we are given, and the advice we ignore.
Danielle Clode, Senior Research Fellow in Creative Writing, Flinders University
Licensed as Creative Commons – attribution, no derivatives.
tag:theconversation.com,2011:article/127307
2019-11-20T19:08:04Z
2019-11-20T19:08:04Z
Extraordinary skull fossil reveals secrets of snake evolution
<figure><img src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/302601/original/file-20191120-542-aoxqd4.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&rect=0%2C0%2C998%2C670&q=45&auto=format&w=496&fit=clip" /><figcaption><span class="caption">An artist rendition of the najash snake.</span> <span class="attribution"><span class="license">Author provided</span></span></figcaption></figure><p>On very rare occasions, an exceptional fossil is unearthed that provides an extraordinary glimpse into the evolution of a group of organisms. </p>
<p>This time, it is the beautifully preserved skull of an ancient snake with rear limbs, <em>Najash rionegrina</em>. Our study of this fossil has been published in the journal <em><a href="https://advances.sciencemag.org/content/5/11/eaax5833">Science Advances</a></em>. </p>
<p>This and other new fossils help answer longstanding questions on the origins of snakes, such as how they lost their limbs and evolved their highly specialized skulls.</p>
<h2>Fossil history</h2>
<p><em>Najash rionegrina</em> is named after the legged biblical snake Nahash (Hebrew for snake), and the Río Negro Province in Argentina, where the fossils were discovered. Fossils of <em>Najash</em> are about 95 million years old, and were first described in <em>Nature</em> <a href="https://doi.org/10.1038/nature04413">from a fragmentary skull and partial body skeleton that preserved robust rear limbs</a>.</p>
<p>This rear-limbed fossil snake garnered a great deal of media interest as it followed earlier reports of <a href="https://doi.org/10.1038/386705a0">fossil marine snakes with rear limbs</a>. What made <em>Najash</em> unique was that it was a terrestrial snake living in a desert, not an aquatic snake living in the ocean. In addition, the fossils were not compressed flat by the weight of overlying sediments, and so they were preserved in three dimensions, unlike the fossil marine snakes.</p>
<hr>
<p>
<em>
<strong>
Read more:
<a href="https://theconversation.com/did-snakes-evolve-from-ancient-sea-serpents-61144">Did snakes evolve from ancient sea serpents?</a>
</strong>
</em>
</p>
<hr>
<p>Unfortunately, that first description of <em>Najash</em> relied on a very fragmentary skull. Scholars of snake evolution were left to guess at what the head of these ancient animals might have looked like.</p>
<p>We know from their shared anatomy that snakes evolved from lizards. We also know that the skulls of snakes have been key to their successful and highly specialized feeding adaptations. New <em>Najash</em> fossil skulls would be highly informative on the pattern of snake skull evolution.</p>
<h2>The new discovery</h2>
<p>It was a hot day in February of 2013 when Fernando Garberoglio, then an undergraduate palaeontology student from the Universidad de Buenos Aires, went on his first field trip to the La Buitrera Paleontological Area in northern Patagonia, Argentina. With him were two palaeontologists: Sebastián Apesteguía, from the Universidad Maimónides, and Guillermo Rougier, from the University of Louisville.</p>
<p>Looking for fossil vertebrates is an act of patient, painstaking discovery. It requires you to be close to the ground, scanning the grit, pebbles, rocks and sediments for a sign of bone. You must pick up each piece, inspect it closely, put it down and then repeat, hour after hour. At La Buitrera, you are scorched by the hot sun, pelted by driving rain and frozen by chilly Andean winds. </p>
<p>But it’s all worth it. Particularly when, as happened to Garberoglio, he finally picked up a pebble, only a few centimetres long, to find a small, ancient, bony face staring back at him. </p>
<p>“I found a snake skull!”</p>
<figure class="align-center zoomable">
<a href="https://images.theconversation.com/files/302346/original/file-20191119-169374-1ujq53m.JPG?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=1000&fit=clip"><img alt="" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/302346/original/file-20191119-169374-1ujq53m.JPG?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/302346/original/file-20191119-169374-1ujq53m.JPG?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=401&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/302346/original/file-20191119-169374-1ujq53m.JPG?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=401&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/302346/original/file-20191119-169374-1ujq53m.JPG?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=401&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/302346/original/file-20191119-169374-1ujq53m.JPG?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=503&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/302346/original/file-20191119-169374-1ujq53m.JPG?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=503&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/302346/original/file-20191119-169374-1ujq53m.JPG?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=503&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px"></a>
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">Student Fernando Garberoglio and palaeontologist Sebastian Apesteguía conducting fieldwork at La Buitrera Paleontological Area in northern Patagonia, Argentina.</span>
<span class="attribution"><span class="source">(Fernando Garberoglio)</span></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>Rougier asked to inspect the fossil himself and found that, to his surprise, Garberoglio was right — there it was, an almost complete, 95 million year old, 3D preserved snake skull. </p>
<p>It has been 13 years since <em>Najash</em> was named, and seven years since Fernando’s discovery. Today, the long hunt has produced its reward of a treasure trove of new skulls and skeletons of <em>Najash</em> from the fossil rich sites at La Buitrera.</p>
<h2>Skull evolution</h2>
<p>A longstanding hypothesis is that snakes evolved from a blind, burrowing lizard ancestor. A group of small, worm-like, small-mouthed burrowing snakes, known as <a href="https://doi.org/10.1002/mmnz.20020780108">scolecophidians,</a> have long been considered to be the most primitive living snakes.</p>
<p>The new <em>Najash</em> fossil material shows that the skulls of that lineage of ancient snakes were nothing like those of scolecophidian snakes. Instead, <em>Najash</em> and its kind had large mouths with sharp teeth and some of the mobile skull joints that are typical of most modern snakes. However, they still retained some bony skull features of more typical lizards.</p>
<p>In evolutionary terms, <em>Najash</em> tells us that snakes were evolving towards the skull mobility necessary to ingest fairly large prey items, a landmark feature of many modern snakes. </p>
<h2>Scientific prediction</h2>
<p>Critical information is also preserved in the bone-by-bone details preserved in these new fossils of <em>Najash</em>. For example, for a very long time, the rod-like bone located behind the eye of modern snakes — called the jugal — was thought to be the equivalent of the postorbital bone of their lizard ancestors. The idea followed that the jugal was absent in all snakes, fossil and modern.</p>
<p>The new skull of <em>Najash</em> demonstrates conclusively that this is not correct. The bone below the orbit in <em>Najash</em> has the same shape, position and connections as the L-shaped jugal of more typical lizards. This demonstrates that the lower bar of the jugal was lost through snake evolution, leaving behind a rod-like jugal in modern snakes. It is the postorbital bone that has been lost, not the jugal.</p>
<figure class="align-center zoomable">
<a href="https://images.theconversation.com/files/302349/original/file-20191119-169379-x2mots.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=1000&fit=clip"><img alt="" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/302349/original/file-20191119-169379-x2mots.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/302349/original/file-20191119-169379-x2mots.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=292&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/302349/original/file-20191119-169379-x2mots.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=292&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/302349/original/file-20191119-169379-x2mots.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=292&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/302349/original/file-20191119-169379-x2mots.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=367&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/302349/original/file-20191119-169379-x2mots.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=367&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/302349/original/file-20191119-169379-x2mots.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=367&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px"></a>
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">The skull of the fossil snake <em>Najash</em>.</span>
<span class="attribution"><span class="source">(Fernando Garberoglio)</span></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>These new specimens of <em>Najash</em> are an excellent example of the predictive power of science. Hypotheses such as the presence of a jugal in snakes can be supported by the discovery of new data that fulfil those predictions. What happens as a result is that an old hypothesis is falsified and a new one is verified.</p>
<p>In short, the skull of <em>Najash</em> tells us that ancestral snakes were very similar to some of their close lizard relatives, such as big-bodied, big-headed lizards like <a href="https://dx.doi.org/10.1371%2Fjournal.pone.0007241">Komodo dragons</a>. This is a far cry indeed from the idea that snakes could have evolved from tiny, blind, worm-like, small-mouthed ancestors; no known fossils of ancient snakes resemble at all the supposedly primitive, small-mouthed scolecophidians. </p>
<p>[ <em>You’re smart and curious about the world. So are The Conversation’s authors and editors.</em> <a href="https://theconversation.com/ca/newsletters?utm_source=TCCA&utm_medium=inline-link&utm_campaign=newsletter-text&utm_content=youresmart">You can read us daily by subscribing to our newsletter</a>. ]</p><img src="https://counter.theconversation.com/content/127307/count.gif" alt="The Conversation" width="1" height="1" />
<p class="fine-print"><em><span>Michael Caldwell is affiliated with the University of Alberta, Departments of Biological Sciences and Earth and Atmospheric Sciences, and receives funding from Natural Sciences and Engineering Research Council of Canada (20 years of federal science funding), National Geographic Society (I have held three research and exploration grants), and internal research funds from the University of Alberta (as Chair of my department, I held 12 years of Chair Research Allowances awarded to me for exclusive use in my science research investigations - subject to the same expenditure rules as NSERC). </span></em></p><p class="fine-print"><em><span>Alessandro Palci is affiliated with Flinders University and the South Australian Museum.</span></em></p>
The discovery of a perfectly preserved snake skull fossil answers many questions about the evolution of snakes from lizards.
Michael Caldwell, Professor of Vertebrate Palaeontology, University of Alberta
Alessandro Palci, Research Associate in Evolutionary Biology, Flinders University
Licensed as Creative Commons – attribution, no derivatives.
tag:theconversation.com,2011:article/114800
2019-04-09T11:07:09Z
2019-04-09T11:07:09Z
Mysterious museum shows how humans have modified nature for themselves – with important consequences
<figure><img src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/268340/original/file-20190409-2898-njp1m4.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&rect=0%2C0%2C1003%2C782&q=45&auto=format&w=496&fit=clip" /><figcaption><span class="caption">Genetically modified mice express a green fluorescent protein which causes them to glow in the dark.</span> <span class="attribution"><a class="source" href="https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:GFP_Mice_01.jpg">Moen et al. (2012)/Wikipedia</a>, <a class="license" href="http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/4.0/">CC BY-SA</a></span></figcaption></figure><p>Humans have shaped aspects of the living world to suit themselves throughout their history. We’ve domesticated plants and animals for food, security and companionship for tens of <a href="https://www.britannica.com/science/domestication">thousand of years</a>, ensuring <a href="https://www.nature.com/articles/nature01019">early civilisations could survive</a>, develop, and eventually <a href="https://www.nationalgeographic.org/encyclopedia/domestication/">trade</a> with each other.</p>
<p>Throughout history, our relationship with other species has been tied to meeting human needs. Species have been <a href="https://www.yourgenome.org/facts/what-is-selective-breeding">selectively bred</a> so that their offspring over-express particular genetic traits, such as obedient behaviour in dogs or larger size and power in horses. </p>
<p>Over time humans have become more ambitious about <a href="http://science.sciencemag.org/content/316/5833/1866">choosing behavioural and physical traits</a> to embed in other life forms. In recent decades, humans have also become increasingly capable of <a href="https://www.yourgenome.org/facts/what-is-genetic-engineering">genetically engineering</a> species – manipulating their DNA by splicing or inserting genetic material from other species into their genome.</p>
<p>A museum which opened in Pittsburgh, USA in 2012 has sought to chart the human influence in the biology of other species. The <a href="https://postnatural.org/">Center for PostNatural History</a> invites visitors to explore how humans have shaped the living world, <a href="https://postnatural.org/About">defining “postnatural history”</a> as: </p>
<blockquote>
<p>the study of the origins, habitats, and evolution of organisms that have been intentionally and heritably altered by humans.</p>
</blockquote>
<p>The Center’s director and founder, <a href="https://www.cmu.edu/cas/people/pell_richard.html">Richard Pell</a>, went further in <a href="https://theinfluencers.org/en/center-for-postnatural-history/video/1">explaining the postnatural</a>.</p>
<blockquote>
<p>It’s not just giving a dog a weird haircut, it’s breeding a dog that has weird hair. And its offspring will have weird hair forever. It’s sculpting the evolutionary process. […] It’s that moment at which culture intervenes in nature, and the organism has not just a story to tell about evolution or habitat, but has a story to tell about us.</p>
</blockquote>
<h2>The postnatural planet</h2>
<p>The Center claims to be the world’s only museum that is exclusively focused on postnatural lifeforms, exhibiting species often <a href="https://vimeo.com/56855772">omitted from typical natural history museums</a>. There’s a <a href="https://theinfluencers.org/en/center-for-postnatural-history/video/2">hairless, obese rat</a>, fish which <a href="https://postnatural.org/Press-1/Nature-Interview">glow in the dark</a>, and <a href="https://postnatural.org/Exhibits/Transgenic-Mosquito-of-Southern-California">transgenic mosquitoes</a> which have been bred so they can’t carry dengue fever. There’s also a mix of familiar species – different breeds of dogs and chickens – and species often less associated with human interference, such as <a href="http://science.sciencemag.org/content/143/3606/538">corn</a>, <a href="https://www.sciencedirect.com/science/article/pii/S2405985416300295">bananas</a> and <a href="https://books.google.co.uk/books?hl=en&lr=&id=G95hgSRYy9kC&oi=fnd&pg=PA1&dq=domestication+%2522chestnut+tree%2522&ots=pcIuLzmX3n&sig=midn-DHfvCaYdWdzVfHGQCE2tNA#v=onepage&q=domestication%2520%2522chestnut%2520tree%2522&f=false">chestnut trees</a>. </p>
<p>All these species, and many others, have different genetic traits over-expressed to accentuate desirable features. Dogs, for example, have been domesticated and selectively bred out from a common wolf ancestor to more than <a href="http://www.fci.be/en/Nomenclature/">350 breeds</a>, according to strict guidelines in keeping with particular cultural desires around behavioural traits and visual qualities.</p>
<p>Often these human whims to breed dogs with flattened faces, aggressive behaviour or short legs have had <a href="https://books.google.co.uk/books?hl=en&lr=&id=ZOoRn4KgIawC&oi=fnd&pg=PR15&dq=dog+breeds+cause+health+disease+problems&ots=DvEXITZ9XH&sig=ijj7VYNsAAMFPLSY7JfN-hzyER4#v=onepage&q=dog%2520breeds%2520cause%2520health%2520disease%2520problems&f=false">little or no regard</a> for the species’ <a href="https://www.sciencedirect.com/science/article/pii/S1558787809001348">long-term welfare</a>.</p>
<p>These standards reflect the values and desires of those who bred them and are particularly evident in three exhibits at the museum. The Silkie chicken originated in China and has fluffy plumage - bred to satisfy visual desires rather than Western appetites for <a href="https://www.aspca.org/sites/default/files/chix_white_paper_nov2015_lores.pdf">enormous breasted</a> factory-farmed chickens, which are bred for <a href="https://theinfluencers.org/en/center-for-postnatural-history/video/1">uniform size</a> to fit in processing machines. </p>
<p>The Center also has a stuffed mount of an “alcoholic” rat, bred to choose alcohol over water when given the choice, as part of a laboratory experiment by researchers in Finland to <a href="https://www.nature.com/articles/ncb437">help find a cure for alcoholism</a>. Then there’s “Freckles” – a stuffed goat bred by the company Nexia to produce spider silk in her milk as a potential <a href="https://onlinelibrary.wiley.com/doi/full/10.1111/j.1748-5967.2007.00121.x">replacement for Kevlar in military uniforms</a>.</p>
<figure>
<iframe width="440" height="260" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/B0zT9CN3-50?wmode=transparent&start=0" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen=""></iframe>
</figure>
<p>These three exhibits demonstrate how non-humans have been moulded to reflect human <a href="https://www.jstor.org/stable/622652?seq=1#metadata_info_tab_contents">expectations and desires</a>. The cultural systems which govern human life also increasingly apply to non-humans. It’s also no coincidence that the species discussed here have been bred in pursuit of profit, directly or indirectly. This suggests the pervasive influence of <a href="https://link.springer.com/article/10.1023/A:1006419715108">consumer capitalism</a> in human behaviour.</p>
<p>The most profitable organisms – such as cattle – have received the most investment and attention. The Belgian Blue cow, for example, has been bred for enormous, succulent and tasty shoulder and thigh muscles. But these mean <a href="https://onlinelibrary.wiley.com/doi/full/10.1111/j.1439-0531.2006.00825.x">Caesarean sections</a> are needed to avoid <a href="https://www.rspca.org.uk/adviceandwelfare/farm/beef/keyissues">birth canal blockages</a>. </p>
<figure class="align-center ">
<img alt="" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/267639/original/file-20190404-123405-tngn42.JPG?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/267639/original/file-20190404-123405-tngn42.JPG?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=402&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/267639/original/file-20190404-123405-tngn42.JPG?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=402&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/267639/original/file-20190404-123405-tngn42.JPG?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=402&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/267639/original/file-20190404-123405-tngn42.JPG?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=505&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/267639/original/file-20190404-123405-tngn42.JPG?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=505&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/267639/original/file-20190404-123405-tngn42.JPG?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=505&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px">
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">The Belgian Blue’s muscular build reflects consumer demand for succulent thigh and shoulder meat but causes severe health problems for the animal.</span>
<span class="attribution"><a class="source" href="https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Spitzenbulle.JPG">Mastiff/Wikipedia</a>, <a class="license" href="http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/4.0/">CC BY</a></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>Profitable crop species are usually <a href="https://www.theguardian.com/environment/2017/oct/18/warning-of-ecological-armageddon-after-dramatic-plunge-in-insect-numbers">treated with pesticides to kill insects</a>, or <a>habitats are destroyed</a> to farm profitable species on. We leave little room for the species we haven’t exploited – <a href="https://www.ecowatch.com/biomass-humans-animals-2571413930.html">humans and livestock account for 96% of mammal biomass</a>.</p>
<p>This has created <a href="https://www.theguardian.com/environment/2014/sep/29/earth-lost-50-wildlife-in-40-years-wwf">dangerous imbalances in ecosystems</a>, while many of the species we exploit are being <a href="https://www.theguardian.com/news/2018/mar/12/what-is-biodiversity-and-why-does-it-matter-to-us">consumed faster than they can reproduce</a>. Humans have <a href="https://www.ufaw.org.uk/dogs/english-bulldog-dystocia">inserted themselves into the life cycles</a> of much of the living world, and these changes are heritable – their genetic trajectory is irreversibly set.</p>
<p>The Center for PostNatural History therefore shows us our collective power to shape the living world in our image. This power must be used responsibly.</p><img src="https://counter.theconversation.com/content/114800/count.gif" alt="The Conversation" width="1" height="1" />
<p class="fine-print"><em><span>Dominic Walker does not work for, consult, own shares in or receive funding from any company or organisation that would benefit from this article, and has disclosed no relevant affiliations beyond their academic appointment.</span></em></p>
Human changes to the living world have benefited us, but the ecological consequences are mounting.
Dominic Walker, Researcher in Cultural Geography, Royal Holloway University of London
Licensed as Creative Commons – attribution, no derivatives.
tag:theconversation.com,2011:article/107878
2019-01-07T11:41:07Z
2019-01-07T11:41:07Z
3D scans of bat skulls help natural history museums open up dark corners of their collections
<figure><img src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/252530/original/file-20190104-32139-145yycy.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&rect=0%2C0%2C3310%2C1996&q=45&auto=format&w=496&fit=clip" /><figcaption><span class="caption">Ready to spatially manipulate 3D bat skulls from the comfort of your own computer?</span> <span class="attribution"><a class="source" href="https://doi.org/10.1371/journal.pone.0203022">Shi et al, PLoS ONE 13(9): e0203022 </a>, <a class="license" href="http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nd/4.0/">CC BY-ND</a></span></figcaption></figure><p>Picture a natural history museum. What comes to mind? Childhood memories of dinosaur skeletons and dioramas? Or maybe you still visit to see planetarium shows or an IMAX feature? You may be surprised to hear that behind these public-facing exhibits lies a priceless treasure trove that most visitors will never see: a museum’s collections.</p>
<p>Far from being forgotten, dusty tombs, <a href="https://www.atlasobscura.com/articles/natural-history-museums-closing-survival-modernizing">as is sometimes the perception</a>, these collections host the very cutting edge of research on life on this planet. The sheer scale of some of the largest collections can be staggering. The <a href="https://naturalhistory.si.edu">Smithsonian National Museum of Natural History</a>, for instance, houses over <a href="https://naturalhistory.si.edu/research">150 million specimens</a>. Even a smaller academic institution, like the <a href="https://lsa.umich.edu/rmc">Research Museums Center of the University of Michigan</a>, houses a labyrinth of specimen vaults, preserving millions of skeletons, fossils, dried plant material and jarred organisms.</p>
<p>Most importantly, poring over this wealth of knowledge at any given time are active researchers, working to unravel the intricacies of Earth’s biodiversity. At the University of Michigan, where <a href="https://scholar.google.com/citations?user=4PC6zUgAAAAJ&hl=en&oi=sra">I received my Ph.D. in ecology and evolutionary biology</a>, I worked nestled among these skeletons, fossils and other natural treasures. These specimens were critical to my research, as primary records for the natural history of the world. </p>
<p>Yet despite the incalculable value of these collections, I often wondered about how to make them more accessible. A project to digitally scan hundreds of bat skulls was one way to bring specimens that would look at home in an antique Victorian collection straight to the forefront of 21st-century museum practices.</p>
<figure class="align-center zoomable">
<a href="https://images.theconversation.com/files/252451/original/file-20190103-32133-1tgxj6a.JPG?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=1000&fit=clip"><img alt="" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/252451/original/file-20190103-32133-1tgxj6a.JPG?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/252451/original/file-20190103-32133-1tgxj6a.JPG?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=400&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/252451/original/file-20190103-32133-1tgxj6a.JPG?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=400&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/252451/original/file-20190103-32133-1tgxj6a.JPG?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=400&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/252451/original/file-20190103-32133-1tgxj6a.JPG?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=503&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/252451/original/file-20190103-32133-1tgxj6a.JPG?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=503&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/252451/original/file-20190103-32133-1tgxj6a.JPG?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=503&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px"></a>
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">In most museums, specimens – like these bats in the Research Museums Complex at the University of Michigan’s Museum of Zoology – are carefully protected in drawers and cabinets, with meticulous metadata that record where and when they were collected.</span>
<span class="attribution"><span class="source">Dale Austin, Department of Ecology and Evolution, University of Michigan</span>, <a class="license" href="http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nd/4.0/">CC BY-ND</a></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<h2>A valuable resource, largely hidden from view</h2>
<p>By researching variation among and within collection specimens, biologists have uncovered many ecological and evolutionary mysteries of the natural world. For instance, <a href="https://doi.org/10.1073/pnas.1710239114">a recent study</a> <a href="https://www.theatlantic.com/science/archive/2017/10/what-dead-birds-know-about-the-respiratory-rasp-of-the-palisades/542685/">on bird specimens</a> traced the increasing concentration of atmospheric black carbon and its role in climate change over more than a century. Scientists can <a href="https://www.aaas.org/news/spotlight-science-writers-beth-shapiro">collect ancient DNA from specimens</a> and gather information about historical population levels and healthy genetic diversity for organisms that are now threatened and endangered.</p>
<p>My own research on <a href="https://doi.org/10.1111/jbi.13353">global bat diversity</a> used hundreds of museum specimens to conclude that tropical bats coexist more readily than many biologists expect. This finding fits with an overall pattern across much of the tree of life where tropical species outnumber their temperate cousins. It may also help explain why in many parts of Central and South America, bats are among the most abundant and diverse mammals, period.</p>
<p>However, research on these specimens often requires direct access, which can come at a steep price. Researchers must either travel to museums, or museums must ship their specimens en masse to researchers - both logistical and financial challenges. Museums are understandably wary of shipping many specimens that are truly irreplaceable - the last evidence that some organisms ever existed in our world. A museum’s budget and carbon footprint can quickly balloon with loans. And as physical specimens cannot be in more than one location at once, researchers may have to wait an indefinite amount of time while their materials are loaned to someone else.</p>
<figure class="align-center zoomable">
<a href="https://images.theconversation.com/files/252458/original/file-20190104-32139-6lv9qm.JPG?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&rect=1%2C1%2C237%2C237&q=45&auto=format&w=1000&fit=clip"><img alt="" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/252458/original/file-20190104-32139-6lv9qm.JPG?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&rect=1%2C1%2C237%2C237&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/252458/original/file-20190104-32139-6lv9qm.JPG?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=602&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/252458/original/file-20190104-32139-6lv9qm.JPG?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=602&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/252458/original/file-20190104-32139-6lv9qm.JPG?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=602&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/252458/original/file-20190104-32139-6lv9qm.JPG?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=756&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/252458/original/file-20190104-32139-6lv9qm.JPG?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=756&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/252458/original/file-20190104-32139-6lv9qm.JPG?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=756&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px"></a>
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">A different way to access biological specimens, using micro-CT scans.</span>
<span class="attribution"><a class="source" href="https://doi.org/10.1371/journal.pone.0203022">Shi et al, PLoS ONE 13(9): e0203022,</a>, <a class="license" href="http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nd/4.0/">CC BY-ND</a></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<h2>CT scanning bat skulls</h2>
<p>I have tried to tackle these issues of access with my collaborators <a href="https://scholar.google.com/citations?user=0NdRYeoAAAAJ&hl=en&oi=ao">Daniel Rabosky</a> and <a href="https://nature.berkeley.edu/wanglab/erinwesteen/">Erin Westeen</a> using micro-CT technology. Just like with medical CT scanning, micro-CT uses X-rays to digitize objects without damaging them – in our case, these scans occur at the fine scale of millionths of meters (micrometers). This means micro-CT scans are incredibly accurate at high resolutions. Even very tiny specimens and parts are preserved in vivid detail.</p>
<p>For my Ph.D. research, we used micro-CT scanning to digitize nearly 700 individual bat skulls from our museum’s collection. With estimates of about 1,300 described species, bats represent about 25 to 30 percent of modern mammal species, second only to rodents. However, one of the reasons researchers have long been fascinated by bats is their immense diversity of behavior and function in nature. Much of this ecological diversity is encoded in their skulls, which vary broadly in shape and size.</p>
<p>At the <a href="https://dent.umich.edu/research/microct-core">Michigan School of Dentistry’s</a> micro-CT facility, we scanned every bat skull at high resolutions. Each scan produced hundreds of thousands of images per specimen - each image a tiny cross-section of an original skull. With these “stacks” of cross-sections, we then reconstructed 3D surfaces and volumes. In essence, we recreated a 3D “digital specimen” from each of the roughly 700 originals.</p>
<figure>
<iframe width="440" height="260" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/lDsVxOf_2T0?wmode=transparent&start=0" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen=""></iframe>
<figcaption><span class="caption">Users can manipulate the 3D cranial model created from micro-CT scans of a female <em>Desmodus rotundus</em>, the common vampire bat.</span></figcaption>
</figure>
<h2>Digital specimens open doors</h2>
<p>In partnership with MorphoSource at Duke University, we’ve since <a href="https://doi.org/10.1371/journal.pone.0203022">published our digital specimens</a> within an <a href="https://www.morphosource.org/Detail/ProjectDetail/Show/project_id/386">open-access repository</a> for researchers, educators and students. Each digital specimen is associated with the same identifying data as its original, enabling research without travel or shipment. Even better, many delicate parts can be digitally dissected without fear of irreparable damage. Digital specimens can even be 3D-printed at varying scales for use in educational settings and museum exhibits.</p>
<p>My colleagues Dan and Erin have continued to expand these efforts to other vertebrates at our museum. Our hope is that the broader scientific community will embrace open-access digital specimen data in much the same way that digital, publicly available <a href="https://www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/genbank/">genetic data</a> has been adopted across biology. Digitization can expand the reach of each museum, especially as scanning prices drop and open-access micro-CT software becomes more practical.</p>
<p>This digital revolution comes at time when many <a href="https://theconversation.com/lesson-from-brazil-museums-are-not-forever-102692">natural history museums are endangered</a>. Around the globe, museums are hamstrung by <a href="https://www.chicagotribune.com/news/ct-met-field-museum-scientists-20130731-story.html">budget cuts</a> and decades of neglect, <a href="https://www.nytimes.com/2018/09/04/science/brazil-museum-fire.html">with devastating consequences</a>.</p>
<p><iframe id="tc-infographic-365" class="tc-infographic" height="400px" src="https://cdn.theconversation.com/infographics/365/cb870c7490a046c695b7dbc8e8ff4d67ce6a73fb/site/index.html" width="100%" style="border: none" frameborder="0"></iframe></p>
<p>One way to revitalize museums is to <a href="https://theconversation.com/digitizing-the-vast-dark-data-in-museum-fossil-collections-102833">embrace digital missions</a> that preserve priceless data and promote global collaboration. Far from making physical collections obsolete, digitization can modernize natural history museums, as it has with <a href="https://tisch.nyu.edu/cinema-studies/miap/research-outreach/research/dpoe-n">libraries</a> and <a href="https://www.francetoday.com/culture/museums-galleries/the_louvre_goes_digital/">other</a> <a href="https://www.metmuseum.org/blogs/now-at-the-met/2017/digital-future-at-the-met">museums</a> of art, history and culture. The originals will always be there for those looking to dive deep into natural history. The digital wing can instead invite curiosity and questions from sources most museums could never dream of otherwise reaching.</p>
<p>In my earliest days as a biologist, I was plagued by common researcher worries. What was going to happen to all of my data? Who else would ever see it? Scientists never know what new life may be breathed into our basic research after years, decades, centuries. I think about the hundreds of past scientists who unknowingly contributed data to my own research, spanning nearly 130 years and six continents of expeditions.</p>
<p>By digitizing their earlier efforts, my colleagues and I ensured that they can reach broad audiences, far beyond what they likely imagined. No longer should the potential impact of any specimen be restricted by the walls and constraints of any one museum. Instead, museums can throw their doors open to a digital future, inviting anyone into the endless wonders of the natural world.</p><img src="https://counter.theconversation.com/content/107878/count.gif" alt="The Conversation" width="1" height="1" />
<p class="fine-print"><em><span>Jeff J. Shi received funding for this research from the National Science Foundation's Division of Environmental Biology, in the form of a Doctoral Dissertation Improvement Grant co-awarded to Dr. Daniel L. Rabosky. </span></em></p>
Museums’ collections are a priceless resource for scientists, but they’re not easy to access. Digitizing specimens – like the 700 bat skulls the author studied – is a way to let everyone in.
Jeff J. Shi, Education Program Specialist, University of Minnesota
Licensed as Creative Commons – attribution, no derivatives.
tag:theconversation.com,2011:article/107116
2018-11-22T11:05:27Z
2018-11-22T11:05:27Z
Dynasties: Lions may disappear without urgent funding for conservation
<p>In part three of the BBC’s new nature series <a href="https://www.bbc.co.uk/programmes/p06mvr1c">Dynasties</a>, the protagonists, Charm and Sienna, show us how hard it is to be a successful lioness in a land filled with enemies. </p>
<p>Under constant threat of marauding hyenas and cub-killing male lions, the two mothers have to fight for their lives to ensure their offspring have a chance of making it to adulthood. But the episode also shows us that the biggest enemy of lions isn’t other wild predators – it’s humans.</p>
<p>Down from as many as 200,000 lions a century ago, some experts believe that we could now have as few as <a href="https://www.panthera.org/cat/lion">20,000 individuals remaining in the wild</a> – and that number is likely to be falling by the day. Worryingly, the general public are <a href="https://journals.plos.org/plosbiology/article?id=10.1371/journal.pbio.2003997#sec004">mostly unaware</a> of their precarious conservation status. We have done a bad job of showing the perilous state of these big cats.</p>
<h2>The lion’s kingdom under siege</h2>
<p>Lions face attack by humans on many fronts. <a href="https://www.panthera.org/cms/sites/default/files/Panthera_FactSheets_Lion.pdf">Panthera</a>, a wild cat conservation organisation, believes the most serious causes for their decline include habitat loss, humans killing them to protect their livestock, wild prey depletion, accidental snaring, poorly managed trophy hunting and the illegal wildlife trade.</p>
<p>Since their threats are so varied, there is no single solution for protecting lions and overcoming these threats will be no mean feat. It will require locally-tailored solutions that fit each specific context. For instance, for lions that reside alongside people in areas outside national parks, <a href="https://journals.plos.org/plosone/article?id=10.1371/journal.pone.0170796">research has shown</a> that it is absolutely vital to <a href="https://www.cambridge.org/core/journals/environmental-conservation/article/cost-of-carnivore-coexistence-on-communal-and-resettled-land-in-namibia/142960101075A81193D3EEBA8E0E6229">reduce the perceived costs of lions</a> to local people, like livestock depredation, while <a href="https://www.tandfonline.com/doi/abs/10.1080/10871209.2013.819537">increasing their benefits</a>, such as income from photographic tourism or <a href="https://theconversation.com/why-killing-lions-like-cecil-may-actually-be-good-for-conservation-45400">trophy hunting</a>.</p>
<figure class="align-center zoomable">
<a href="https://images.theconversation.com/files/246708/original/file-20181121-161618-twp5cb.jpeg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=1000&fit=clip"><img alt="" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/246708/original/file-20181121-161618-twp5cb.jpeg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/246708/original/file-20181121-161618-twp5cb.jpeg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=227&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/246708/original/file-20181121-161618-twp5cb.jpeg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=227&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/246708/original/file-20181121-161618-twp5cb.jpeg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=227&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/246708/original/file-20181121-161618-twp5cb.jpeg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=285&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/246708/original/file-20181121-161618-twp5cb.jpeg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=285&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/246708/original/file-20181121-161618-twp5cb.jpeg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=285&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px"></a>
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">Tourists gather to spot lions on safari in the Maasai Mara park.</span>
<span class="attribution"><a class="source" href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Safari#/media/File:Safari-jam-in-Maasai-Mara.JPG">Wikimedia Commons/Bjørn Christian Tørrissen.</a>, <a class="license" href="http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/4.0/">CC BY-SA</a></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>For lions inside protected areas, <a href="http://www.pnas.org/content/112/48/14894?ijkey=bee9613a3da86a750add773cd2bf64a4f97b89ed&keytype2=tf_ipsecsha">some experts argue</a> that we must <a href="https://onlinelibrary.wiley.com/doi/pdf/10.1111/ele.12091">fence lions</a> in to stop them causing problems with people. However, this has earned <a href="https://scholarworks.montana.edu/xmlui/bitstream/handle/1/9575/Creel_EcologyLetters_07_2013_A1b.pdf?sequence=1">criticism from others</a>, who believe that fences incur significant ecological and economic costs by disrupting the migration of herbivores. The issue over “to fence or not to fence” has turned into a bit of cat fight and shows the political nuances and ecological complexities of conserving such a charismatic species.</p>
<p>In a bold attempt to reunite conservationists, <a href="http://pridelionalliance.org/who-we-are/">Pride, the Lion Conservation Alliance</a>, has brought together five lion NGOs to pool their efforts and share funding. It may come as no surprise that, like the species they’re fighting to conserve, they have realised the benefits of coming together and working as a team rather than competing. </p>
<h2>A lion always pays his debts</h2>
<p>Focusing on lion populations in Kenya, Mozambique, Tanzania and Zambia, their community conservation efforts empower locals to be stewards of wildlife. By turning lion poachers into guardians, their initiatives have <a href="https://pdfs.semanticscholar.org/c556/e609ed44ca8462525309f34e63f3ab57c384.pdf">reduced lion killing</a> by up to 99% in some of the areas in which they work. </p>
<p>By building on the cultural significance of lion hunts, young warriors that would usually show their bravery by killing lions are now employed to track lions and monitor their activities. They also inform their community if lions are approaching so that farmers can guard their livestock.</p>
<p>While TV shows such as Dynasties are helping to raise the profile of this threatened carnivore, what the lion needs now more than anything is funding. Conserving lions is an expensive business: <a href="http://www.pnas.org/content/115/45/E10788">one recent paper</a> showed that to effectively manage the protected areas where lions currently reside would require a whopping US$0.9 billion to US$2.1 billion in additional income per year – on top of the money that is already raised. </p>
<figure class="align-center ">
<img alt="" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/246832/original/file-20181122-182053-1k6r2tt.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/246832/original/file-20181122-182053-1k6r2tt.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=524&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/246832/original/file-20181122-182053-1k6r2tt.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=524&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/246832/original/file-20181122-182053-1k6r2tt.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=524&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/246832/original/file-20181122-182053-1k6r2tt.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=658&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/246832/original/file-20181122-182053-1k6r2tt.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=658&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/246832/original/file-20181122-182053-1k6r2tt.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=658&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px">
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">The areas where lions are known to have lived in the past (red) versus where they survive today (blue).</span>
<span class="attribution"><a class="source" href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Lion#/media/File:Lion_distribution.png">Wikimedia Commons/Tommyknocker.</a></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>Where this cash comes from remains a bit of a mystery. We have to go beyond financing conservation from the meagre income of photographic tourism in national parks. Solutions could involve more <a href="https://www.iucn.org/regions/asia/about/leveraging-partnerships/partners">corporate partnerships</a> and financially linking lion lovers in the West to Africans living with lions. </p>
<p>An idea from <a href="https://www.thetimes.co.uk/article/advertisers-using-animals-should-pay-for-conservation-david-attenborough-says-5xzjdwsfq">Sir David Attenborough</a> himself argues that companies that use lions in their marketing should pay for lion conservation. What is abundantly clear is that if we want lions to have a future, we must start stumping up the cash for their conservation.</p>
<p>Many commentators have suggested BBC’s Dynasties takes on the gripping, conflict-ridden format of storytelling that Game of Thrones perfected. If this is the case, humans would surely play the vicious and selfish <a href="https://gameofthrones.fandom.com/wiki/Joffrey_Baratheon">King Joffrey</a>. It is us, after all, who terrorise lions the most. But it is us, too, who have the power to guarantee their survival.</p><img src="https://counter.theconversation.com/content/107116/count.gif" alt="The Conversation" width="1" height="1" />
<p class="fine-print"><em><span>Niki Rust does not work for, consult, own shares in or receive funding from any company or organisation that would benefit from this article, and has disclosed no relevant affiliations beyond their academic appointment.</span></em></p>
The life-or-death drama of the lion pride will captivate viewers, but the show may not go on without funding to conserve these species.
Niki Rust, Postdoctoral Researcher, Newcastle University
Licensed as Creative Commons – attribution, no derivatives.
tag:theconversation.com,2011:article/102833
2018-09-17T10:50:47Z
2018-09-17T10:50:47Z
Digitizing the vast ‘dark data’ in museum fossil collections
<figure><img src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/236483/original/file-20180914-177965-18rfcei.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&rect=296%2C7%2C4290%2C3140&q=45&auto=format&w=496&fit=clip" /><figcaption><span class="caption">With a lot not on display, museums may not even know all that's in their vast holdings.</span> <span class="attribution"><a class="source" href="http://www.apimages.com/metadata/Index/LA-Tar-Pits/b4ca06d8d3894287bb812f0d5c92024a/1/0">AP Photo/Jae C. Hong</a></span></figcaption></figure><p>The great museums of the world harbor a secret: They’re home to <a href="https://doi.org/10.1126/science.352.6287.762">millions upon millions of natural history specimens</a> that almost never see the light of day. They lie hidden from public view, typically housed behind or above the public exhibit halls, or in off-site buildings.</p>
<p>What’s on public display represents only the tiniest fraction of the wealth of knowledge under the stewardship of each museum. Beyond fossils, museums are the repositories for what we know of the world’s living species, as well as much of our own cultural history. </p>
<p>For paleontologists, biologists and anthropologists, museums are like the historians’ archives. And like most archives – think of those housed in the Vatican or in the Library of Congress – each museum typically holds many unique specimens, the only data we have on the species they represent. </p>
<p>The uniqueness of each museum collection means that scientists routinely make pilgrimages worldwide to visit them. It also means that the loss of a collection, as in the recent heart-wrenching fire in Rio de Janeiro, represents an irreplaceable loss of knowledge. It’s akin to the loss of family history when a family elder passes away. <a href="https://doi.org/10.1038/d41586-018-06192-9">In Rio, these losses included</a> one-of-a-kind dinosaurs, perhaps the oldest human remains ever found in South America, and the only audio recordings and documents of indigenous languages, including many that no longer have native speakers. Things we once knew, we know no longer; things we might have known can no longer be known.</p>
<p>But now digital technologies – including the internet, interoperable databases and rapid imaging techniques – make it possible to electronically aggregate museum data. Researchers, including a multi-institutional team <a href="https://scholar.google.com/citations?user=UQhjq5QAAAAJ&hl=en&oi=ao">I</a> am leading, are laying the foundation for the coherent use of these millions of specimens. Across the globe, teams are working to bring these “dark data” – currently inaccessible via the web – into the digital light.</p>
<figure class="align-center zoomable">
<a href="https://images.theconversation.com/files/236480/original/file-20180914-177941-jqvlcf.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=1000&fit=clip"><img alt="" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/236480/original/file-20180914-177941-jqvlcf.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/236480/original/file-20180914-177941-jqvlcf.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=600&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/236480/original/file-20180914-177941-jqvlcf.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=600&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/236480/original/file-20180914-177941-jqvlcf.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=600&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/236480/original/file-20180914-177941-jqvlcf.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=754&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/236480/original/file-20180914-177941-jqvlcf.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=754&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/236480/original/file-20180914-177941-jqvlcf.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=754&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px"></a>
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">Researchers must travel to visit non-digitized specimens in person, not knowing what they will find – if they’re even aware of their existence.</span>
<span class="attribution"><span class="source">Smithsonian Institution</span>, <a class="license" href="http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc-sa/4.0/">CC BY-NC-SA</a></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<h2>What’s hidden away in drawers and boxes</h2>
<p>Paleontologists often describe the fossil record as incomplete. But for some groups the fossil record can be remarkably good. In many cases, there are plenty of previously collected specimens in museums to help scientists answer their research questions. The issue is how accessible – or not – they are.</p>
<p>The sheer size of fossil collections, and the fact that most of their contents were collected before the invention of computers and the internet, make it very difficult to aggregate the data associated with museum specimens. From a digital point of view, most of the world’s fossil collections represent “dark data.” The fact that large portions of existing museum collections are not computerized also means that <a href="http://mentalfloss.com/article/60536/11-things-lost-then-rediscovered-museums">lost treasures are waiting to be rediscovered</a> within museums themselves. </p>
<figure class="align-center zoomable">
<a href="https://images.theconversation.com/files/236479/original/file-20180914-96155-d0n2wi.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=1000&fit=clip"><img alt="" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/236479/original/file-20180914-96155-d0n2wi.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/236479/original/file-20180914-96155-d0n2wi.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=452&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/236479/original/file-20180914-96155-d0n2wi.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=452&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/236479/original/file-20180914-96155-d0n2wi.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=452&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/236479/original/file-20180914-96155-d0n2wi.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=568&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/236479/original/file-20180914-96155-d0n2wi.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=568&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/236479/original/file-20180914-96155-d0n2wi.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=568&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px"></a>
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">High-resolution photos are an important part of the digitization process.</span>
<span class="attribution"><span class="source">Smithsonian Institution</span>, <a class="license" href="http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc-sa/4.0/">CC BY-NC-SA</a></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>With the vision and investment of funding agencies such as the National Science Foundation (NSF) in the United States, numerous museums are collaborating to digitally bring together their data from key parts of the fossil record. The <a href="http://www.ucmp.berkeley.edu/">University of California Museum of Paleontology</a> at Berkeley, where I work, is <a href="https://epicc.berkeley.edu/people-participants/">one of 10 museums</a> now aggregating some of their fossil data. Together through our digitized collections, we are working to understand how major environmental changes have affected marine ecosystems on the eastern coast of the Pacific Ocean, from Chile to Alaska, over the last 66 million years.</p>
<p>The digitization process itself includes adding the specimen’s collection data into the museum computer system if it hasn’t already been entered: its species identification, where it was found, and the age of the rocks it was found in. Then, we digitize the geographic location of where the specimen was collected, and take digital images that can be accessed via the web.</p>
<p>The <a href="https://www.idigbio.org/content/thematic-collections-networks">Integrated Digitized Biocollections</a> (iDigBio) site hosts all the major museum digitization efforts in the United States funded by the current NSF initiative that began in 2011.</p>
<figure class="align-center zoomable">
<a href="https://images.theconversation.com/files/236481/original/file-20180914-177962-15set64.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=1000&fit=clip"><img alt="" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/236481/original/file-20180914-177962-15set64.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/236481/original/file-20180914-177962-15set64.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=155&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/236481/original/file-20180914-177962-15set64.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=155&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/236481/original/file-20180914-177962-15set64.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=155&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/236481/original/file-20180914-177962-15set64.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=195&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/236481/original/file-20180914-177962-15set64.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=195&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/236481/original/file-20180914-177962-15set64.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=195&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px"></a>
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">Team members entering information about each fossil into a centralized database.</span>
<span class="attribution"><span class="source">Smithsonian Institution</span>, <a class="license" href="http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc-sa/4.0/">CC BY-NC-SA</a></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>Significantly, the cost of digitally aggregating the fossil data online, including the tens of thousands of images, is remarkably small compared with the cost it took to collect the fossils in the first place. It’s also less than the expense of maintaining the physical security and accessibility of these priceless resources – a cost that those supposed to be <a href="https://www.nytimes.com/2018/09/04/world/americas/brazil-museum-fire.html">responsible for the museum in Rio apparently were not</a> willing to cover, with disastrous consequences.</p>
<h2>Digitized data can help answer research questions</h2>
<p>Our group, called EPICC for <a href="https://epicc.berkeley.edu/">Eastern Pacific Invertebrate Communities of the Cenozoic</a>, <a href="https://doi.org/10.1098/rsbl.2018.0431">quantified just how much “dark data”</a> are present in our joint collections. We found that our 10 museums contain fossils from 23 times the number of collection sites in California, Oregon and Washington than are currently documented in a leading online electronic database of the paleontological scientific literature, <a href="https://paleobiodb.org/">the Paleobiology Database</a>. </p>
<p>EPICC is using our newly digitized data to piece together a richer understanding of past ecological response to environmental change. We want to test ideas relevant to long- and short-term climate change. How did life recover from the mass extinction that wiped out the dinosaurs? How did changes in ocean temperature drive marine ecosystem change, including those associated with the isolation of the cooler Pacific Ocean from the warmer Caribbean Sea when the land bridge at Panama first formed?</p>
<p>To answer these questions, all the relevant fossil data, drawn from many museums, needs to be easily accessible online to enable large-scale synthesis of those data. Digitization enables paleontologists to see the forest as a whole, rather than just as a myriad number of individual trees.</p>
<p>In some cases – such as records of past languages or the collection data associated with individual specimens – digital records help protect these invaluable resources. But, typically, the actual specimens remain crucial to understanding past change. Researchers often still need to make key measurements directly on the specimens themselves. </p>
<p>For example, Berkeley Ph.D. student Emily Orzechowski is using specimens being aggregated by the EPICC project to test the idea that the ocean off the Californian coast will become cooler with global climate change. Climate models predict increased global warming will lead to stronger winds down the coast, which will increase the coastal upwelling that brings frigid waters from the deep ocean to the surface – the cause of San Francisco’s famous summer fogs.</p>
<p>The test she’s using relies on mapping the distributions of huge numbers of fossils. She’s measuring subtle differences in the oxygen and carbon isotopes found in fossil clam and snail shells that date to the last interglacial period of Earth’s history about 120,000 years ago, when the west coast was warmer than it is today. Access to the real-life fossils is crucial in this kind of research.</p>
<figure class="align-center zoomable">
<a href="https://images.theconversation.com/files/236495/original/file-20180915-177953-1qv2pkq.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=1000&fit=clip"><img alt="" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/236495/original/file-20180915-177953-1qv2pkq.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/236495/original/file-20180915-177953-1qv2pkq.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=400&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/236495/original/file-20180915-177953-1qv2pkq.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=400&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/236495/original/file-20180915-177953-1qv2pkq.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=400&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/236495/original/file-20180915-177953-1qv2pkq.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=503&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/236495/original/file-20180915-177953-1qv2pkq.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=503&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/236495/original/file-20180915-177953-1qv2pkq.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=503&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px"></a>
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">Once digitized, information about a fossil is available worldwide, while the specimen itself remains available to visiting researchers to make crucial observations or measurements.</span>
<span class="attribution"><span class="source">Deniz Durmis, contract photographer for the Natural History Museum of Los Angeles County</span>, <a class="license" href="http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc-sa/4.0/">CC BY-NC-SA</a></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>Understanding response to past change is not just restricted to fossils. For example, nearly a century ago the director of the Museum of Vertebrate Zoology, <a href="http://mvz.berkeley.edu/Grinnell.html">Joseph Grinnell</a> at the University of California, Berkeley, undertook systematic collections of mammals and birds across California. Subsequently, the museum <a href="http://mvz.berkeley.edu/Grinnell/index.html">re-surveyed those precise localities</a>, discovering major changes in the distribution of many species, including <a href="https://doi.org/10.1073/pnas.1805123115">loss of many bird species</a> in the Mojave Desert.</p>
<p>A key aspect of this work has been comparison of the DNA from the almost hundred-year-old museum specimens with DNA of animals alive today. The comparison revealed serious fragmentation of populations, and led to the identification of genetic changes in response to environmental change. Having the specimens is crucial to this kind of project.</p>
<p>This digital revolution is not just restricted to fossils and paleontology. It pertains to all museums collections. Curators and researchers are enormously <a href="https://doi.org/10.1126/science.352.6287.762">excited by the power to be gained</a> as the museum collections of the world – from fossils to specimens from live-caught organisms – become accessible through the nascent digitization of our invaluable collections.</p><img src="https://counter.theconversation.com/content/102833/count.gif" alt="The Conversation" width="1" height="1" />
<p class="fine-print"><em><span>Charles Marshall receives funding from the National Science Foundation. </span></em></p>
A tiny percentage of museums’ natural history holdings are on display. Very little of these vast archives is digitized and available online. But museums are working to change that.
Charles Marshall, Professor of Paleontology and Director of the University of California Museum of Paleontology, University of California, Berkeley
Licensed as Creative Commons – attribution, no derivatives.
tag:theconversation.com,2011:article/102692
2018-09-05T16:10:28Z
2018-09-05T16:10:28Z
Lesson from Brazil: Museums are not forever
<figure><img src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/235071/original/file-20180905-45166-epswlq.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&rect=89%2C0%2C2349%2C1402&q=45&auto=format&w=496&fit=clip" /><figcaption><span class="caption">Brazil's gutted National Museum now resembles an archaeological ruin itself.</span> <span class="attribution"><a class="source" href="http://www.apimages.com/metadata/Index/Brazil-Rio-Museum-Fire/07aa75d8ffad421d965c7a11b03ffc89/20/0">AP Photo/Mario Lobao</a></span></figcaption></figure><p>We now know what history going up in flames looks like. </p>
<p>On Sept. 2, the <a href="https://www.nytimes.com/2018/09/03/world/americas/brazil-museum-fire.html">National Museum of Brazil lit up</a> Rio de Janeiro’s night sky. Perhaps started by an errant paper hot air balloon landing on the roof or a short circuit in a laboratory, the fire gutted the historic 200-year-old building. Likely gone are a collection of resplendent indigenous ceremonial robes, the first dinosaur found in South America, Portuguese royal furniture, ancient Egyptian mummies, a vast library and so much more. In six hours, an estimated <a href="https://www.theatlantic.com/science/archive/2018/09/brazil-rio-de-janeiro-museum-fire/569299/">18 million artifacts</a> were turned to smoke and ash.</p>
<p>The images of the hollowed-out museum are a living nightmare <a href="http://www.chipcolwell.com">for a curator like me</a>. I know that most museum collections are truly irreplaceable. But, <a href="https://scholar.google.com/citations?user=FFy5tMUAAAAJ&hl=en&oi=ao">for me</a>, the fire is also a vital reminder that the greatest dangers to humanity’s collective heritage are not natural disasters but human ones. </p>
<p>There’s an important lesson for all of us in the fire’s embers.</p>
<figure class="align-center zoomable">
<a href="https://images.theconversation.com/files/235045/original/file-20180905-45143-1ftocqm.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=1000&fit=clip"><img alt="" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/235045/original/file-20180905-45143-1ftocqm.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/235045/original/file-20180905-45143-1ftocqm.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=400&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/235045/original/file-20180905-45143-1ftocqm.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=400&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/235045/original/file-20180905-45143-1ftocqm.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=400&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/235045/original/file-20180905-45143-1ftocqm.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=503&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/235045/original/file-20180905-45143-1ftocqm.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=503&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/235045/original/file-20180905-45143-1ftocqm.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=503&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px"></a>
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">White walls and imposing columns signal that this place is pristine and eternal.</span>
<span class="attribution"><a class="source" href="https://unsplash.com/photos/6sfrYaJJSfo">Tamara Menzi/Unsplash</a>, <a class="license" href="http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/4.0/">CC BY</a></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<h2>The perils museums face</h2>
<p>A museum presents itself as permanent and timeless. It’s why so many sport Greek columns, sterile white walls and clean objects under clear glass. The message is that the museum and its treasures should exist beyond the fleeting moment of our visit – connecting past, present and future. Whether displaying dinosaurs or dodos, art or archaeology, the museum is our bank vault for the world’s natural wonders and human achievements. The museum aspires to be a fortress against time. </p>
<p>The reality is that time is inexorable and relentless. Museums are locked in a constant struggle against decay and an almost absurdly wide-ranging array of natural and human threats. There’s even a formal list of the evil-sounding “<a href="http://www.conservation-wiki.com/wiki/Ten_Agents_of_Deterioration">agents of deterioration</a>” that museums use to evaluate risks to their collections, ranging from bugs to temperature to water to fire.</p>
<figure class="align-right zoomable">
<a href="https://images.theconversation.com/files/235072/original/file-20180905-45139-1b3tmm5.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=1000&fit=clip"><img alt="" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/235072/original/file-20180905-45139-1b3tmm5.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=237&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/235072/original/file-20180905-45139-1b3tmm5.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=482&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/235072/original/file-20180905-45139-1b3tmm5.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=482&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/235072/original/file-20180905-45139-1b3tmm5.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=482&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/235072/original/file-20180905-45139-1b3tmm5.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=606&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/235072/original/file-20180905-45139-1b3tmm5.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=606&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/235072/original/file-20180905-45139-1b3tmm5.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=606&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px"></a>
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">Sometimes looted pieces, such as the ‘Warka Mask,’ a 3100 B.C. Sumerian artifact taken from Iraq’s National Museum as Saddam Hussein’s regime collapsed, are recovered. Oftentimes they are not.</span>
<span class="attribution"><a class="source" href="http://www.apimages.com/metadata/Index/Associated-Press-International-News-Iraq-IRAQ/770b9fcdb9e5da11af9f0014c2589dfb/3/0">AP Photo/Samir Mezban</a></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>These risks are constantly evolving. War might turn a museum overnight into <a href="https://www.smithsonianmag.com/arts-culture/looting-iraq-16813540/">a looter’s paradise</a>, as in the case of the National Museum of Iraq. Market forces or colonial revenge may spur thieves to steal artifacts, as recently seen with <a href="https://www.gq.com/story/the-great-chinese-art-heist">a pandemic of thefts</a> of Chinese art. Some are even adding <a href="https://news.artnet.com/art-world/climate-change-museums-plan-of-action-1049993">climate change to the menaces</a> facing collections, such as the Bass Museum along Miami Beach, as it prepares for rising sea levels. </p>
<p>For museum curators, a terrifying range of hazards could devastate the treasures we are appointed to safeguard. Tragically, fire has long been at the top of the list. As early as 1865, the Smithsonian in Washington, D.C. – “America’s attic,” as it is famously known – <a href="http://americanhistory.si.edu/blog/smithsonian-fire">caught aflame</a>, resulting in what was then called a “national calamity.” In more recent years, infernos destroyed Madagascar’s <a href="http://www.unesco.org/new/en/nairobi/about-this-office/single-view/news/unesco_begins_project_to_help_restore_the_collections_of_the/">royal palace museum</a>, Delhi’s <a href="https://www.theguardian.com/world/2016/apr/26/massive-fire-guts-delhis-natural-history-museum">natural history museum</a> and a <a href="https://www.npr.org/2018/06/13/619567294/fire-sweeps-through-museum-of-history-in-kurt-cobains-hometown-of-aberdeen">history museum</a> in Washington state, which housed rare artifacts from the late musician Kurt Cobain. </p>
<p>Despite the known risk of fire, reports suggest that Brazil’s National Museum was <a href="https://www.nytimes.com/2018/09/04/world/americas/brazil-museum-fire.html">woefully unprepared</a>. It apparently lacked a fire suppression system. Nearby fire hydrants went dry. </p>
<p>The spark that started the fire was perhaps an unforeseen event, but the conflagration that followed was not.</p>
<figure class="align-center zoomable">
<a href="https://images.theconversation.com/files/235073/original/file-20180905-45175-3czvit.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=1000&fit=clip"><img alt="" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/235073/original/file-20180905-45175-3czvit.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/235073/original/file-20180905-45175-3czvit.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=396&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/235073/original/file-20180905-45175-3czvit.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=396&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/235073/original/file-20180905-45175-3czvit.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=396&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/235073/original/file-20180905-45175-3czvit.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=497&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/235073/original/file-20180905-45175-3czvit.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=497&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/235073/original/file-20180905-45175-3czvit.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=497&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px"></a>
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">Holding off decay can rely on expensive technical resources.</span>
<span class="attribution"><a class="source" href="http://www.apimages.com/metadata/Index/Mideast-Egypt-New-Museum/cb2140c6ce0242e98694bb63a6638869/1/0">AP Photo/Nasser Nasser</a></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<h2>Collections don’t care for themselves</h2>
<p>Most hazards that endanger museums can be mitigated. Conservation programs can hunt artifact-eating bugs, storage rooms can control temperature and humidity, security systems can prevent burglary and more. But implementing such protections requires serious resources.</p>
<p>By all accounts, this is where <a href="https://www.smh.com.au/world/south-america/politicians-are-responsible-fury-after-brazil-s-past-turns-to-ashes-20180904-p501nq.html">Brazil’s caretakers failed</a>. As a national museum, Brazil’s elected officials were responsible for directing the appropriate funds to the museum. Instead, they underfunded the museum and allowed it to fall into disrepair. With the proper buildings and equipment, Brazil’s museum fire would likely not have been so disastrous. </p>
<p>Such indifference is not limited to Brazil. For example, a 2016 report found that Canada’s six national museums are underfunded by about <a href="https://ottawacitizen.com/news/local-news/national-museums-underfunded-by-up-to-78-9m-a-year-heritage-officials-admit">US$60 million each year</a>. In the United States, President Trump’s 2019 fiscal year budget sought to <a href="https://www.publishersweekly.com/pw/by-topic/industry-news/publisher-news/article/76047-trump-renews-bid-to-eliminate-library-funding-nea-and-neh.html">entirely eliminate</a> three <a href="https://www.neh.gov/neh-matters">vital federal agencies</a> – the National Endowment for the Humanities, National Endowment for the Arts and Institute of Museum and Library Services – that preserve much of the country’s cultural heritage in museums. Congress, however, passed a spending bill in 2018 that <a href="https://www.publishersweekly.com/pw/by-topic/industry-news/publisher-news/article/76441-nea-neh-imls-get-budget-bumps.html">modestly increased funding</a> for all three agencies.</p>
<figure class="align-right zoomable">
<a href="https://images.theconversation.com/files/235049/original/file-20180905-45139-xftz7w.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=1000&fit=clip"><img alt="" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/235049/original/file-20180905-45139-xftz7w.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=237&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/235049/original/file-20180905-45139-xftz7w.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=600&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/235049/original/file-20180905-45139-xftz7w.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=600&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/235049/original/file-20180905-45139-xftz7w.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=600&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/235049/original/file-20180905-45139-xftz7w.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=754&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/235049/original/file-20180905-45139-xftz7w.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=754&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/235049/original/file-20180905-45139-xftz7w.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=754&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px"></a>
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">Walls alone can’t protect what’s inside.</span>
<span class="attribution"><a class="source" href="https://unsplash.com/photos/ab80p262fFM">Scott Webb/Unsplash</a>, <a class="license" href="http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/4.0/">CC BY</a></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>From Brazil, those holding the purse strings on citizens’ behalf must learn that museums are not forever. Collections are never permanently safe. They require focused investments and proactive stewardship to ensure their survival long into the future. Otherwise, it’s only a matter of time before the next fire.</p>
<hr>
<p><em>This article has been updated to clarify 2018 U.S. budget allocation for museum-related agencies.</em></p><img src="https://counter.theconversation.com/content/102692/count.gif" alt="The Conversation" width="1" height="1" />
<p class="fine-print"><em><span>Chip Colwell has received funding from the National Endowment for the Humanities, and is participating on projects funded by the Institute of Museum and Library Services. He is also a senior curator of anthropology at the Denver Museum of Nature & Science.</span></em></p>
It’s a comforting falsehood that once an artifact joins a museum’s collection, it’s safe for eternity. Museums face many foes in the fight to preserve – a lack of funds might be the biggest.
Chip Colwell, Lecturer on Anthropology, University of Colorado Denver
Licensed as Creative Commons – attribution, no derivatives.
tag:theconversation.com,2011:article/94284
2018-04-06T10:45:10Z
2018-04-06T10:45:10Z
Rights of the dead and the living clash when scientists extract DNA from human remains
<figure><img src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/213471/original/file-20180405-189824-kw01re.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&rect=95%2C170%2C1730%2C1125&q=45&auto=format&w=496&fit=clip" /><figcaption><span class="caption">Who gets to decide for the dead, such as this Egyptian mummy? </span> <span class="attribution"><a class="source" href="http://www.apimages.com/metadata/Index/Associated-Press-Domestic-News-Georgia-United-S-/ef10c29a61e5da11af9f0014c2589dfb/2/0">AP Photo/Ric Feld</a></span></figcaption></figure><p>The remains of a 6-inch long mummy from Chile are not those of a space alien, according to <a href="https://www.nytimes.com/2018/03/22/science/ata-mummy-alien-chile.html">research</a>. The tiny body with its strange features – a pointed head, elongated bones – had been the subject of fierce debate over whether a UFO might have left it behind. The scientists gained access to the body, which is now in a private collection, and their DNA testing proved the remains are those of a human fetus. The undeveloped girl suffered from a bone disease and was the child of an unknown local Atacama woman.</p>
<p>This study was supposed to end the mummy’s controversy. Instead, it <a href="https://www.nytimes.com/2018/03/28/science/atacama-mummy-chile.html">ignited another one</a>. </p>
<figure class="align-center zoomable">
<a href="https://images.theconversation.com/files/213453/original/file-20180405-189801-taj750.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=1000&fit=clip"><img alt="" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/213453/original/file-20180405-189801-taj750.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/213453/original/file-20180405-189801-taj750.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=263&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/213453/original/file-20180405-189801-taj750.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=263&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/213453/original/file-20180405-189801-taj750.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=263&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/213453/original/file-20180405-189801-taj750.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=330&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/213453/original/file-20180405-189801-taj750.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=330&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/213453/original/file-20180405-189801-taj750.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=330&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px"></a>
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">The mummified fetus from the Atacama region of Chile.</span>
<span class="attribution"><a class="source" href="http://dx.doi.org/10.1101/gr.223693.117">Bhattacharya S et al. 2018</a>, <a class="license" href="http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/4.0/">CC BY</a></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>Authorities in Chile have <a href="https://gizmodo.com/chile-is-seriously-pissed-about-the-alien-mummy-study-1824177937">denounced the research</a>. They believe a looter plundered the girl from her grave and illegally took her from the country. The Chilean Society of Biological Anthropology issued a <a href="https://www.seattletimes.com/nation-world/chilean-scientists-outraged-by-research-on-infant-girls-mummy-rumored-to-be-of-an-alien/">damning statement</a>. It asked, “Could you imagine the same study carried out using the corpse of someone’s miscarried baby in Europe or America?”</p>
<p><a href="https://scholar.google.com/citations?user=FFy5tMUAAAAJ&hl=en&oi=ao">As an archaeologist</a>, I share in the excitement around how technology and techniques to study DNA are leaping ahead. As never before, the mysteries of our bodies and histories are finding exciting answers – from the revelation that <a href="http://www.latimes.com/science/sciencenow/la-sci-sn-neanderthal-dna-humans-20171005-story.html">humans interbred</a> with Neanderthals, to how <a href="https://www.independent.co.uk/news/uk/home-news/new-genetic-map-of-britain-shows-successive-waves-of-immigration-going-back-10000-years-10117361.html">Britain was populated</a>, to <a href="https://www.livescience.com/62194-decapitated-mummy-ancient-dna.html">the enigma</a> of a decapitated Egyptian mummy.</p>
<p>But, I have also <a href="http://press.uchicago.edu/ucp/books/book/chicago/P/bo21358784.html">closely studied</a> the history of collecting human remains for science. I am gravely concerned that the current “<a href="https://www.technologyreview.com/the-download/610597/industrialization-of-ancient-dna-search-sets-off-a-bone-rush/">bone rush</a>” to make new genetic discoveries has set off an ethical crisis.</p>
<h2>Plundering skulls for science</h2>
<p>We have seen a rush for human remains before. More than a century ago, anthropologists were eager to assemble <a href="http://press.uchicago.edu/ucp/books/book/chicago/S/bo5820708.html">collections of skeletons</a>. They were building a science of humanity and needed samples of skulls and bones to determine evolutionary history and define the characteristics of human races.</p>
<figure class="align-center zoomable">
<a href="https://images.theconversation.com/files/213458/original/file-20180405-189830-6sjupq.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=1000&fit=clip"><img alt="" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/213458/original/file-20180405-189830-6sjupq.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/213458/original/file-20180405-189830-6sjupq.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=424&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/213458/original/file-20180405-189830-6sjupq.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=424&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/213458/original/file-20180405-189830-6sjupq.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=424&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/213458/original/file-20180405-189830-6sjupq.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=533&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/213458/original/file-20180405-189830-6sjupq.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=533&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/213458/original/file-20180405-189830-6sjupq.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=533&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px"></a>
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">Museums were mad for skeletons around the turn of the 20th century.</span>
<span class="attribution"><a class="source" href="https://www.flickr.com/photos/twm_news/5863367244">Tyne & Wear Archives & Museums</a>, <a class="license" href="http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/4.0/">CC BY</a></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>Researchers emptied cemeteries and excavated ancient tombs. They took skulls from massacre sites. “It is most unpleasant work to steal bones from a grave,” the father of anthropology, Franz Boas, <a href="https://www.basicbooks.com/titles/david-h-thomas/skull-wars/9780465092253/">once grumbled</a>, “but what is the use, someone has to do it.”</p>
<p>The case of Qisuk, an Inuit man, provides an especially <a href="https://www.nytimes.com/2000/03/15/books/eskimo-boy-injustice-old-new-york-campaigning-writer-indicts-explorer-museum.html">egregious example</a>. In 1897, the explorer Robert Peary brought Qisuk and five others to New York from Greenland, so anthropologists could more easily study their culture. Four of them, including Qisuk, soon died of tuberculosis.</p>
<p>Anthropologists and doctors conspired to fake Qisuk’s burial to trick his surviving 8-year-old son, then dissected the body and defleshed the bones. Qisuk’s skeleton was mounted and hung at the American Museum of Natural History. (It is <a href="https://www.nytimes.com/1993/08/21/nyregion/about-new-york-a-museum-s-eskimo-skeletons-and-its-own.html">still disputed</a> today whether Qisuk was only stored at the museum or put on public display.)</p>
<p>By the end of the 20th century, <a href="http://www.hup.harvard.edu/catalog.php?isbn=9780674660410">U.S. museums held</a> the remains of some 200,000 Native American skeletons.</p>
<p>These skeletons helped write the American continent’s history and foster an appreciation for Native cultures. Yet the insights gleaned from these gathered remains came at a steep price: Native Americans’ <a href="https://eric.ed.gov/?id=EJ203622">religious freedoms</a> and <a href="https://www.culturalsurvival.org/publications/cultural-survival-quarterly/native-burials-human-rights-and-sacred-bones">human rights</a> were systematically violated. Many Native Americans believe their ancestors’ spirits have been left to wander. Others insist that all ancestors should be afforded honor and their graves should be protected. </p>
<p>Today, <a href="https://uapress.arizona.edu/book/in-the-smaller-scope-of-conscience">a U.S. federal law</a> provides for the return of stolen skeletons. Still, the legacy of these collections will haunt us for generations. Many Native Americans are <a href="https://www.sapiens.org/archaeology/native-american-archaeology/">profoundly distrustful</a> of archaeologists. And even after nearly 30 years of active repatriation of human remains, there are still more than <a href="https://doi.org/10.1080/09647775.2011.540125">100,000 skeletons</a> in U.S. museums. By my estimation, it will take <a href="http://press.uchicago.edu/ucp/books/book/chicago/P/bo21358784.html">238 years</a> to return these remains at this rate – if they are ever even returned at all.</p>
<figure class="align-center zoomable">
<a href="https://images.theconversation.com/files/213455/original/file-20180405-189830-kxr3l4.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=1000&fit=clip"><img alt="" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/213455/original/file-20180405-189830-kxr3l4.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/213455/original/file-20180405-189830-kxr3l4.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=429&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/213455/original/file-20180405-189830-kxr3l4.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=429&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/213455/original/file-20180405-189830-kxr3l4.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=429&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/213455/original/file-20180405-189830-kxr3l4.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=539&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/213455/original/file-20180405-189830-kxr3l4.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=539&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/213455/original/file-20180405-189830-kxr3l4.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=539&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px"></a>
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">Even nondestructive research methods – like the CT scan about to be performed on this 550-year-old Peruvian child mummy – raise ethical questions.</span>
<span class="attribution"><a class="source" href="https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:US_Navy_110427-N-2531L-135_Tori_Randall,_Ph.D._prepares_a_550-year_old_Peruvian_child_mummy_for_a_CT_scan.jpg">U.S. Navy/Samantha A. Lewis</a>, <a class="license" href="http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/4.0/">CC BY</a></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<h2>Seeking consent</h2>
<p>For too long scientists failed to ask basic ethical questions: Who should control collections of human remains? What are the positive and negative consequences of studies based on skeletons? And how can scientists work to enhance, rather than undermine, the rights of the people they study? </p>
<p>One place to look for answers is the <a href="https://www.hhs.gov/ohrp/regulations-and-policy/belmont-report/read-the-belmont-report/index.html">Belmont Report</a>. Published in 1979, this was the scientific community’s response to the <a href="https://www.amazon.com/Bad-Blood-Tuskegee-Syphilis-Experiment/dp/0029166764">Tuskegee Study</a>. Over the course of 40 years, the U.S. government denied medical treatment to more than 400 black men infected with syphilis, to watch the disease’s evolution. In the aftermath of the resulting scandal, the Belmont Report insisted that biomedical researchers must have respect for people, try to do good as well as avoid harm, and fairly distribute the burdens and benefits of research.</p>
<p>Although these guidelines were intended for living subjects, they provide a framework to consider research on the dead. After all, research on the dead ultimately affects the living. One way to ensure these protections is to seek informed consent from individuals, kin, communities or legal authorities before conducting studies. </p>
<p>In some cases consultation may be unwarranted. A skeleton of our earliest human ancestor, at <a href="https://www.sapiens.org/evolution/oldest-homo-sapiens-fossils/">300,000 years old</a>, is a patrimony which all of us could claim. However, a fetus with birth defects that is <a href="https://news.nationalgeographic.com/2018/03/chile-mummy-ata-alien-dna/">40 years old</a> – even one sensationalized as a space alien – likely has kin and community that should be considered. Between these two extremes lies DNA research’s future of ethical engagement. </p>
<h2>Are humans specimens?</h2>
<p>In its defense, the journal Genome Research, which <a href="https://doi.org/10.1101/gr.223693.117">published the analysis</a> of the Chilean mummy, <a href="https://genome.cshlp.org/site/press/Genome_Res_2018_Sussman_gr_237842_118.pdf">stated that</a> the “specimen” – the girl – did not require special ethical consideration. She does not legally qualify as a “human subject” because <a href="https://www.hhs.gov/ohrp/regulations-and-policy/regulations/45-cfr-46/index.html#46.102">she is not living</a>. So disregarding the rights of descendants, the editors only concluded that the controversy “highlights the evolving nature of this field of research, and has prompted our commitment to initiate community discussions.” </p>
<p>To be sure, such discussions are desperately needed. In the same week that the mummy story hit the news, The New York Times published <a href="https://www.nytimes.com/2018/03/20/science/david-reich-human-migrations.html">a profile of Harvard geneticist David Reich</a>. The article celebrates how the jump forward in DNA research has led to sudden, luminous advances in our understanding of humanity’s evolution and history. Reich said his dream is “to find ancient DNA from every culture known to archaeology everywhere in the world.” </p>
<p>It is a beautiful aspiration. But both scientists and society now know to ask: Where will this DNA come from? Who will give their consent?</p><img src="https://counter.theconversation.com/content/94284/count.gif" alt="The Conversation" width="1" height="1" />
<p class="fine-print"><em><span>Chip Colwell receives funding from the Wenner-Gren Foundation for Anthropological Research. </span></em></p>
Are DNA samples today’s version of the human skeletons that hung in 20th-century natural history museums? They can provide genetic revelations about our species’ history – but at an ethical price.
Chip Colwell, Associate Research Professor of Anthropology, University of Colorado Denver
Licensed as Creative Commons – attribution, no derivatives.
tag:theconversation.com,2011:article/88672
2017-12-13T13:38:33Z
2017-12-13T13:38:33Z
Four ways natural history museums skew reality
<figure><img src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/197829/original/file-20171205-23037-1805re3.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=496&fit=clip" /><figcaption><span class="caption">
</span> <span class="attribution"><span class="source">Em Campos / Shutterstock.com</span></span></figcaption></figure><p>Natural history museums are magical places. They inspire awe and wonder in the natural world and help us understand our place within the animal kingdom. Behind the scenes, many of them are also undertaking world-changing science with their collections.</p>
<p>But they are places for people, made by people. We might like to consider them logical places, centred on facts, but they can’t tell all the facts – there isn’t room. Similarly, they can’t show all the animals. And there are reasons behind what goes on display and what gets left in the storeroom.</p>
<p>The biases that can be detected in how people talk about animals, particularly in museums is one of the key themes of my new book, <a href="http://www.thehistorypress.co.uk/publication/animal-kingdom/9780750981521/">Animal Kingdom: A Natural History in 100 Objects</a>. Museums are a product of their own history, and that of the societies they are embedded in. They are not apolitical, and they are not entirely scientific. As such, they don’t really represent reality.</p>
<h2>1. Where are all the small animals?</h2>
<p>Museums are overwhelmingly biased towards big beasts. It’s not difficult to see why – who can fail to be awed by the sight of a <a href="http://www.nhm.ac.uk/about-us/news/2017/july/museum-unveils-hope-the-blue-whale-skeleton.html">25 metre-long blue whale</a>? Dinosaurs, elephants, tigers and walruses are spectacular: they ooze presence. It is easy for museums to instil a sense of wonder with animals like this. They are the definition of impressive.</p>
<p>And so these are the kind of specimens that fill museum galleries. But they only represent a tiny sliver of global diversity. Invertebrate species (animals without backbones) outnumber vertebrates by more than <a href="https://books.google.co.uk/books?id=SBhLDgAAQBAJ&lpg=PA422&ots=jeHleEB2hD&dq=invertebrates%20outnumber%20vertebrates%20by%20twenty%20to%20one&pg=PA422#v=onepage&q&f=false">20 to one</a> in the real world, but in museums I’d be surprised if 10% of displays focused on them.</p>
<figure class="align-center zoomable">
<a href="https://images.theconversation.com/files/197943/original/file-20171206-894-lk6jng.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=1000&fit=clip"><img alt="" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/197943/original/file-20171206-894-lk6jng.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/197943/original/file-20171206-894-lk6jng.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=400&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/197943/original/file-20171206-894-lk6jng.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=400&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/197943/original/file-20171206-894-lk6jng.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=400&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/197943/original/file-20171206-894-lk6jng.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=503&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/197943/original/file-20171206-894-lk6jng.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=503&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/197943/original/file-20171206-894-lk6jng.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=503&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px"></a>
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">The Micrarium at the Grant Museum of Zoology, UCL, attempts to give some space to tiny animals.</span>
<span class="attribution"><span class="source">UCL Grant Museum of Zoology / Matt Clayton</span></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<h2>2. Where are all the females?</h2>
<p>If we think about the sex ratio of animal specimens in museum galleries, the males are thoroughly over-represented. Curator of Natural Science at Leeds Museum Discovery Centre, Rebecca Machin, published <a href="https://journals.le.ac.uk/ojs1/index.php/mas/article/view/112">a case study</a> in 2008 of a typical natural history gallery and found that only 29% of the mammals, and 34% of the birds were female. To some extent this can be explained by the fact that hunters and collectors were more inclined to acquire – and been seen to overcome – animals with big horns, antlers, tusks or showy plumage, which typically is the male of the species. But can this display bias be excused? It is a misrepresentation of nature.</p>
<p>Machin also found that if male and female specimens of the same species were displayed together, the males were typically positioned in a domineering pose over the female, or just simply higher than her on the shelf. This was irrespective of biological realities.</p>
<figure class="align-center ">
<img alt="" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/197946/original/file-20171206-917-uxqx9a.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/197946/original/file-20171206-917-uxqx9a.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=400&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/197946/original/file-20171206-917-uxqx9a.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=400&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/197946/original/file-20171206-917-uxqx9a.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=400&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/197946/original/file-20171206-917-uxqx9a.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=503&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/197946/original/file-20171206-917-uxqx9a.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=503&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/197946/original/file-20171206-917-uxqx9a.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=503&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px">
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">Ice age giant deer are a mainstay of natural history museums - the males’ antlers approached four metres across.</span>
<span class="attribution"><span class="source">UCL Grant Museum of Zoology / Oliver Siddons</span></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>Looking at the ways in which the specimens had been interpreted – even in labels that have been written very recently – she found that the role of the female animal was typically described as a mother, while the male came across as the hunter or at least had a broader role unrelated to parenting. We have to wonder what messages this might give museum visitors about the role of the female.</p>
<h2>3. Where is all the gross stuff?</h2>
<p>When it comes to animal groups that people consider cute – particularly mammals – why is it that specimens preserved in jars are displayed less regularly than taxidermy? I suspect that one reason is that – unlike taxidermy – fluid preservation cannot hide the fact that the animal is obviously dead. It is likely that museums shy away from displaying mammals in jars – which are very common in their storerooms – because visitors find them more disturbing and cruel than the alternatives.</p>
<p>I have encountered few objects that cause visitors to have such a strong negative response than the bisected cat below, displayed in the Grant Museum of Zoology at UCL, and this is interesting too. They seem more concerned about this cat than when they are confronted with the preserved remains of endangered, exotic creatures. The human connection with this species is so strong that many people find it challenging to see them preserved in a museum.</p>
<figure class="align-center ">
<img alt="" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/197949/original/file-20171206-920-czcntu.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/197949/original/file-20171206-920-czcntu.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=400&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/197949/original/file-20171206-920-czcntu.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=400&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/197949/original/file-20171206-920-czcntu.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=400&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/197949/original/file-20171206-920-czcntu.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=503&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/197949/original/file-20171206-920-czcntu.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=503&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/197949/original/file-20171206-920-czcntu.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=503&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px">
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">Most museums wouldn’t display this, for fear of upsetting people.</span>
<span class="attribution"><span class="source">UCL Grant Museum of Zoology / Oliver Siddons</span></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>There are other reasons to think that museum curators modify their displays to cater to the sensibilities of their visitors. </p>
<p>The majority of mammal species, for example, have a bone in their penis. Despite the prevalence of skeletons of these animals in museum displays, it is extraordinarily rare to see one with its penis bone attached. One reason for this is the presumed prudishness of the curators, who would remove the penis bone before putting them on display (another is that they are easy to lose when de-fleshing a skeleton).</p>
<h2>4. Colonial skews</h2>
<p>There is real unevenness in which parts of the world the animals in our museums come from. The logistics of visiting exotic locations means that some places were easier to arrange transport to than others, and there may also have been some political motivation to increase knowledge of a particular region.</p>
<p>Knowledge of a country’s natural history equates to knowledge of the potential resources – be they animal, vegetable or mineral – that could be exploited there. Collecting became part of the act of colonisation; staking a claim of possession. For these reasons, collections are often extremely biased by diplomatic relationships between nations. In the UK, it is easy to observe the bias of the former British Empire in what we have in our museums, and that is true of any country with a similar history. Collections of Australian species in British museums dwarf what we hold from China, for example.</p>
<figure class="align-center ">
<img alt="" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/197951/original/file-20171206-915-1rzv5yz.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/197951/original/file-20171206-915-1rzv5yz.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=468&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/197951/original/file-20171206-915-1rzv5yz.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=468&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/197951/original/file-20171206-915-1rzv5yz.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=468&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/197951/original/file-20171206-915-1rzv5yz.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=588&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/197951/original/file-20171206-915-1rzv5yz.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=588&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/197951/original/file-20171206-915-1rzv5yz.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=588&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px">
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">British museums have more platypuses than you might expect.</span>
<span class="attribution"><span class="source">UCL Grant Museum of Zoology / Tony Slade</span></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>Museums are rightly celebrated as places of wonder and curiosity, and also science and learning. But if we look closely we can see that there are human biases in the way nature is represented. The vast majority of these are harmless foibles, but not all. </p>
<p>My hope is that when people visit museums they may be able to consider the human stories behind the displays they see. They might consider the question of why is all that stuff there: what is that museum – or that specimen – doing? What is it for? Why has someone decided it deserves to take up the finite space in the cabinet?</p><img src="https://counter.theconversation.com/content/88672/count.gif" alt="The Conversation" width="1" height="1" />
<p class="fine-print"><em><span>Jack Ashby is a Trustee of the Natural Sciences Collections Association and the Society for the History of Natural History.</span></em></p>
Museums are not apolitical, and they are not entirely scientific. As such, they don’t really represent reality.
Jack Ashby, Manager of the Grant Museum of Zoology, UCL
Licensed as Creative Commons – attribution, no derivatives.
tag:theconversation.com,2011:article/84740
2017-09-27T10:09:54Z
2017-09-27T10:09:54Z
Most museums are too chicken to celebrate ‘boring beasts’ – but we’re not
<figure><img src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/187608/original/file-20170926-13681-umkfz4.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=496&fit=clip" /><figcaption><span class="caption">
</span> <span class="attribution"><span class="source">© UCL Grant Museum of Zoology / Jazmine Miles-Long</span>, <span class="license">Author provided</span></span></figcaption></figure><p>Walking the galleries of a natural history museum, you might be left with the impression that not all animals were created equally. (Of course, if you study the displays about evolution, they’ll tell you that they weren’t <em>created</em> at all.) There is a noticeable bias in what kinds of animals museums choose to display: on the whole, the huge, exotic, rare and extraordinary get more than their fair share of shelf-space.</p>
<p>As a result, natural history museum galleries are not accurate reflections of the nature they might be thought to represent. Around <a href="http://www.mapress.com/zootaxa/2013/f/zt03703p026.pdf">80% of described species</a> are arthropods – the group that contains insects, crustaceans and arachnids; and around <a href="https://blogs.scientificamerican.com/artful-amoeba/parasitic-roundworms-own-this-place/">80% of living individual animals</a> are nematode worms. As is commonly argued by specialists in these fields, these ecologically and numerically dominant groups are not given the attention they statistically deserve.</p>
<p>But there is another group that is also regularly banished from most museums: those more mundane animals that feature heavily in our everyday lives, as pets, livestock and scientific subjects. They are not deemed special enough. Do people want to go to a museum to see animals that we can find on our plates, on our laps and on our streets? It is thought that we would rather see dinosaurs, dodos and <a href="http://www.nhm.ac.uk/about-us/news/2017/july/museum-unveils-hope-the-blue-whale-skeleton.html">giant whales</a>.</p>
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<img alt="" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/187609/original/file-20170926-22303-1e6prxw.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/187609/original/file-20170926-22303-1e6prxw.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=400&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/187609/original/file-20170926-22303-1e6prxw.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=400&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/187609/original/file-20170926-22303-1e6prxw.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=400&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/187609/original/file-20170926-22303-1e6prxw.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=503&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/187609/original/file-20170926-22303-1e6prxw.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=503&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/187609/original/file-20170926-22303-1e6prxw.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=503&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px">
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<span class="caption">Lab strain mice skins.</span>
<span class="attribution"><span class="source">© UCL Grant Museum of Zoology / Oliver Siddons</span></span>
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<p>So these animals are rarely represented in natural history museum displays. That is why we at UCL’s <a href="https://www.ucl.ac.uk/culture/grant-museum">Grant Museum of Zoology</a> have dedicated an exhibition to these somewhat sidelined creatures – to give them a chance to tell their stories. By staging this exhibition, which we have called <a href="https://www.ucl.ac.uk/culture/projects/museum-ordinary-animals">The Museum of Ordinary Animals</a>, we want to highlight the boring beasts that have changed the world, including dogs, rats, cats, cows, chickens and mice. </p>
<p>Ordinary animals are everywhere, and the ways they interact with our lives are endless and varied. We have invited them into our homes as pets; their role in our diets has changed us biologically; they are critical to modern medicine and they hold huge symbolic value in many cultures. These animals have had profound impacts on humanity and the natural world, and we have learned extraordinary things from them.</p>
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<img alt="" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/187610/original/file-20170926-10935-cnlvzl.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/187610/original/file-20170926-10935-cnlvzl.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=400&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/187610/original/file-20170926-10935-cnlvzl.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=400&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/187610/original/file-20170926-10935-cnlvzl.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=400&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/187610/original/file-20170926-10935-cnlvzl.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=503&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/187610/original/file-20170926-10935-cnlvzl.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=503&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/187610/original/file-20170926-10935-cnlvzl.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=503&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px">
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<span class="caption">Preserved domestic cat.</span>
<span class="attribution"><span class="source">© UCL Grant Museum of Zoology / Oliver Siddons</span>, <span class="license">Author provided</span></span>
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<h2>Creating animals</h2>
<p>While (most) natural history museums are dedicated to communicating that the species on display are a product of evolution, many of these ordinary animals were in fact <em>created</em>: they have come into existence through unnatural means. Humans have been domesticating animals ever since <a href="https://www.theatlantic.com/science/archive/2016/06/the-origin-of-dogs/484976/">dogs were formed from wolves</a>, though the process was often not deliberate.</p>
<p>Other domestic species <em>were</em> deliberately brought into being, at least to some extent. The breeding of livestock such as cattle, goats and sheep would ease the growing human population’s problem of the over-hunting of wild animals. Others still, such as domestic hamsters, were only created in recent decades, to fill human scientific and aesthetic desires (they were <a href="http://www.petmd.com/exotic/care/evr_ex_hm_hamster-habitats-where-do-hamsters-live">intended as lab animals</a> before they became pets).</p>
<p>So is their “unnaturalness” the reason why ordinary animals have largely been removed from natural history museums? The concept of some animals being outside the boundaries of “nature” is an interesting one (it’s worth saying that some people argue that humans are a natural species, and therefore everything we do is “natural”, but I think that’s a dead end, as it renders the already abstract concept of nature meaningless). The natural history of these species is not the same as the rest of the animal kingdom’s. We can think of them more in the context of social history, as their stories are so utterly intertwined with our own.</p>
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<img alt="" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/187599/original/file-20170926-13681-10i4gh7.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/187599/original/file-20170926-13681-10i4gh7.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=468&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/187599/original/file-20170926-13681-10i4gh7.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=468&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/187599/original/file-20170926-13681-10i4gh7.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=468&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/187599/original/file-20170926-13681-10i4gh7.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=588&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/187599/original/file-20170926-13681-10i4gh7.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=588&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/187599/original/file-20170926-13681-10i4gh7.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=588&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px">
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<span class="caption">Taxidermy chicken.</span>
<span class="attribution"><span class="source">© UCL Grant Museum of Zoology / Jazmine Miles-Long</span>, <span class="license">Author provided</span></span>
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<p>Studying chickens, for example, allows the worlds of evolution, archaeology, genetics and theology to interweave. UCL geneticist <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Mark_G._Thomas">Mark Thomas</a>, who contributed to the exhibition, <a href="https://academic.oup.com/mbe/article/doi/10.1093/molbev/msx142/3746559/Inferring-allele-frequency-trajectories-from">tells us that</a> around 1,000 years ago, there was massive evolutionary pressure for domestic chickens to be able to lay eggs all year round and to be less aggressive (allowing for the confinement of many individuals in a small space). At the same time, chicken bones become significantly more common in the archaeological record, showing that people were eating more of them.</p>
<p>Remarkably, this coincides with a decree from Benedictine monks to avoid eating four-legged animals on fast days. Birds and eggs were exempt. Although chickens were first domesticated around 6,000 years ago, the features that essentially led to the chickens we know today (including battery hens), were arguably brought about by a religious diktat.</p>
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<img alt="" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/187601/original/file-20170926-10570-1pfma0c.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/187601/original/file-20170926-10570-1pfma0c.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=378&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/187601/original/file-20170926-10570-1pfma0c.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=378&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/187601/original/file-20170926-10570-1pfma0c.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=378&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/187601/original/file-20170926-10570-1pfma0c.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=475&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/187601/original/file-20170926-10570-1pfma0c.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=475&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/187601/original/file-20170926-10570-1pfma0c.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=475&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px">
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<span class="caption">Vials containing mouse skeletons.</span>
<span class="attribution"><span class="source">© UCL Grant Museum of Zoology / Oliver Siddons</span></span>
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<p>Among the most ubiquitous of ordinary animals is the house mouse, originally from India. We have a collection of around 9,000 house mouse skeletons in the Grant Museum, collected from islands around the world: humans have given them near global distribution. The skeletons are the result of a study into the effects of island living on evolution. Museum storerooms are full of such objects: but they are intended for research, not display.</p>
<p>When we visit museums we have the chance to see that evolution has produced some extraordinary species and mind-blowing diversity: it is these exotic and glamorous animals that we tend to find on display. But it’s important to remember that the more ordinary species - which are often the product of human intervention as much as evolution – also have incredible stories to tell us.</p>
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<p><em><a href="https://www.ucl.ac.uk/culture/projects/museum-ordinary-animals">The Museum of Ordinary Animals</a> runs until December 22 at the Grant Museum of Zoology, UCL, London.</em></p><img src="https://counter.theconversation.com/content/84740/count.gif" alt="The Conversation" width="1" height="1" />
<p class="fine-print"><em><span>Jack Ashby does not work for, consult, own shares in or receive funding from any company or organisation that would benefit from this article, and has disclosed no relevant affiliations beyond their academic appointment.</span></em></p>
Dogs, rats, cats, cows, chickens and mice have also changed the world.
Jack Ashby, Manager of the Grant Museum of Zoology, UCL
Licensed as Creative Commons – attribution, no derivatives.