The undiscovered island

Early ecological research relied on adventurous naturalists striking forth into unknown territory and expanding our knowledge of the natural world. This exploratory work is far from complete and many species new to science are still being identified. However, in order to study and investigate the remaining unexplored frontiers, knowing where they are is a fundamental necessity.

Finding our way around has never been so easy. GPS trackers are readily available; Google maps takes the stress out of navigating unfamiliar cities and Google Earth allows us to look down from above on some of the most remote regions of the world. The works of early cartographers with approximations of coastlines and vague “beyond here there are monsters” warnings can be relegated to historical archives. However, a recent discovery by the research vessel Southern Surveyor during its surveys of the seabed off Australia reminds us not to be so trusting of our highfalutin technology.

Sandy Island featured on weather maps and was depicted on Google Earth as lying halfway between Australia and New Caledonia. However, the 24 by 5 kilometre island was not marked on navigation charts. When the Southern Surveyor diverted its course to investigate the supposed island, they found only empty ocean with a depth of about 1.5km. Records of the phantom island seem to trace back to cartographic errors reported by the whaling ship, Velocity, in 1876. The island has now been removed from Google Maps.

The location of Sandy Island depicted on Google Maps.

From a biodiversity perspective, the non-existent island could have been home to a whole host of unusual and endemic species. The surrounding islands in this region of the South West Pacific are the remaining splinters of Australia’s separation from the ancient super-continent, Gondwana. They have high percentages of endemic species with New Caledonia recognised as one of the 25 global biodiversity hotspots. However, human colonisation of the Pacific islands caused significant biodiversity loss which continues today. If Sandy Island had existed, we can only speculate about the number of weird and wonderful creatures which, in the absence of human threats, could have called the island home.

Inaccurate maps from the 19th Century aren’t that surprising but it is pretty incredible that in our technologically savvy age an island the size of Manhattan just doesn’t exist! One expedition member commented that the mistake “raises all kinds of conspiracy theories” especially when the CIA is one of the contributing sources to the world coastline database.

I guess this is just a reminder that Google is not omnipotent after all!

Author

Sive Finlay: sfinlay[at]tcd.ie

Photo credit

wikimedia commons

Global Lakes Observatory Network Meeting

During unseasonably warm, dry and bright weather in mid-October,the Global Lakes Observatory Network (GLEON) held its annual meeting in Mulranny, Co. Mayo.

The meeting was organised by TCD alumni Elvira de Eyto, Eleanor Jennings and Valerie McCarthy, along with their GLEON, Marine Institute and Dundalk IT colleagues. GLEON represents a network of scientists working on lakes with high frequency physico-chemical observations obtained from buoys deployed with sensors. It is a grassroots network of limnologists, ecologists, information technology experts, and engineers who have a common goal of building a scalable, persistent network of lake ecological observatories.

Unlike more traditional conference formats, where attendees sit and listen to research presentations, GLEON members are grouped together to discuss their areas of interest, identify potential for collaborations and to make the decisions that will inform the future path of the GLEON network. Although the program was very full, the open, collaborative and discursive approach ensured the meeting was highly enjoyable.

The current membership of this global organisation currently stands at 351, attendance at the Mulranny meeting at more than 100 and as the photo shows, there was also a strong showing of TCD students and staff, past and present.

Author

Caroline Wynne: c.wynne[at]epa.ie

Photo credit

Caroline Wynne

The selfish huddle

As it is December now and the frost is creeping in I thought I’d talk about one of the all time favourite winter animals: the penguin! These happy footed, tuxedoed up cartoon-esque waddlers are among the most charismatic and endearing of creatures. They are favourites in films, books, documentaries, toys and of course a must on Christmas cards. Tales of their romantic dances, lifelong partnerships and working together to get through the winter have long been a part of the ‘nicer side’ of wildlife television and research. But are these loveable, laughable poster birds of cooperation and cuteness really all that genuine? Recent research would suggest not…

It has long been observed that emperor penguins form mass huddles to help prevent heat loss while they incubate their eggs amid Arctic storms. Anybody who has watched March of the Penguins can’t help but feel for the poor mites as they shuffle about with ice crystals covering their faces! Morgan Freeman also gives a heart warming narrative of their struggles during this time and how they “take turns” to be at the centre of these huddles so nobody is left at the edges long enough to freeze entirely. Nice thought, but it seems not quite the reality. A paper published in Plos one last week looked at the mathematics of the famous penguin huddles. What they found was that the shape and movement of these huddles over time was most accurately (although not perfectly) described by individual penguins setting out to minimize their own heat loss, rather than generously taking turns.  Penguins at the edges seek to move toward the centre while those in the centre have neither the space nor inclination to move anywhere so remain stationary. The result is a dynamic huddle that actually achieves pretty uniform heat loss from the huddle. So in this case being selfish can benefit the group.

This is not the first account of penguins acting in a less than Disney-like fashion: they have been observed stealing pebbles from neighbours’ nests and waiting to see whether other, more hungry, souls fare okay in orca/seal infested waters before jumping in themselves. There are stories too of them pushing their fellows off ice floats in to swelling seas to check for leopard seals but these are largely dispelled by researchers as misconceptions of the unfortunate results of the hustle and bustle of clumsy penguins perched on cliff edges!

I’m sorry to shatter any illusions of a wholly philanthropist snuggly-for-the-sake-of-it penguin but it is another nice example of how we humans often choose to perceive interactions in the animal world based on our own ideas of moral obligation: we like to see penguins cuddling in the cold to say “see what we can face when we work together?” Don’t worry though, I am sure that none of these findings will do much to shake the penguins off of their happy-go-lucky, cuddly pedestals and they will still be a key player in the Christmas festivities and focus points of many a blockbuster documentary to come. After all, who can resist that waddle!?

Author

Deirdre McClean: mccleadm[at]tcd.ie

Photo credit

www.funnycutepics.com

War of the worms

A battlefield

Some of the most successful animals on earth live in societies characterised by a division of labour between reproducing and non-reproducing castes.  One role non-reproducing members may undertake is defence. Spectacular examples include the heavily armoured termites and ants. Recently a soldier caste was discovered in an entirely new and unexpected battleground, inside the bodies of snails. The soldiers? Tiny parasitic flatworms.

Flatworms, or trematodes, have complicated life cycles, involving several different stages infecting a variety of host species. In one host, often a snail, a single trematode undergoes repeated clonal reproduction. Clones produce more clones or go on to produce the next infective stage, which leaves the snail to infect the final host. While working with trematode colonies of Himasthla sp. infecting the Californian horn snail Cerithidea californica, researchers at the University California Santa Barbara observed that the trematode occurred in two distinct morphological forms. There was a large reproducing primary morph, which appeared to be the form typically described in the literature, and a secondary smaller, thinner morph.

These secondary morphs had a number of other features which set them apart. They rarely showed any signs of reproduction and were far more active. They also had huge muscular pharynxes and guts relative to their larger sisters. When researchers preformed behavioural tests, they discovered just what those large mouth parts were for. The secondary morphs attacked and killed other trematode species and unrelated conspecifics. This behaviour is not unknown in trematodes; a number of species attack and kill other trematodes. What was novel was that the smaller morphs appeared to be doing all attacking. The behaviour was rarely observed in the primary morphs. There was also a spatial segregation of morphs. Primary morphs were located in the visceral mass, mainly in the region of the gonads. The secondary morphs were more widely distributed though mainly found within the mantle. The snail mantle is the main entry point for trematodes, a strategic area to defend against invading armies. Finally, the researcher found very few intermediate morphs, suggesting that the smaller morphs were not simply juvenile stages of the primary morphs. They were a distinct, permanent caste whose function appeared to be defence – soldiers. The researchers had discovered eusociality in a completely new taxonomic group.  Previously, eusocial systems consisting of morphologically distinct, specialised reproductive and non-reproductive castes had only been recognised in insects, snapping shrimp, a sea anemone and mole rats. The researchers have already suggested a further five species of trematodes that may have soldier castes.

Work from New Zealand, published this year, on another species (Philophthalmus sp.) has expanded the list of trematodes with soldier castes. The authors also showed that interspecific competition has a heavy impact on colony numbers. This is just the sort of pressure that favours adaptive strategies to reduce competition, such as a permanent soldier caste. However, competition may not be the only selective pressure driving or maintaining caste differentiation in trematodes. In the absence of competition, the presence non-reproducing morphs were found to provide a benefit to the colony, as measured by the number of infective stages produced. Precisely how this benefit comes about is not yet known. The authors suggest some form of communication or nutrient exchange may be taking place between the two morphs. This gives tantalising hints that these colonies are even more complex and interactive than previously thought.

Not only has the discovery of the eusociality in trematodes widened the taxonomic range of this phenomenon, it has also provided researchers with an exciting new tool to study its evolution. The Trematoda class contains at least 20, 000 species with a wide variety of life-histories and ecologies. The discovery is also a great example of how new and unexpected results can still come from well-studied animals. The Himasthla sp. /Californian horn snail system had been studied for over 65 years.

Author

Karen Loxton: loxtonk[at]tcd.ie

Photo credits

wikimedia commons

The language of evolution on trial

Humans are purpose seeking beings. Such a fact is nowhere more apparent than in our language. Some scientists argue that this tendency is a cause of confusion in their subject, especially when it comes to descriptions of evolution. The teleological turn of phrase is so tempting because of how much easier it is to read and understand than a dry purposeless, but more accurate, expression.  ‘Wings evolved for flight’ isn’t quite right but we understand the message. I remember my chemistry teacher’s classes were replete with teleology, ions wanted to gain or lose electrons so they could balance their charge. But of course, none of us believed for a second that the atoms intended to do this. All there was to it were the blind forces of the atomic world. So it goes for evolution as our current understanding of the process is teleology free.

Richard Dawkins, who was put on this Earth to popularize evolution, is always quick to correct himself when his tongue slips to purpose. But I would argue that our linguistic short-cuts are not the primary cause of the public misunderstanding of evolution. It was Eugenie Scott who said for many people the problem behind evolution is not one of confusion, rather it’s a full understanding and disgust at the implications of it. Some of us don’t like the idea of being a ‘mere’ animal. Of course language matters but it would be a shame for us to avoid using language which can convey an idea so succinctly when it’s not to blame. Perhaps I’m being overly naïve here and we’re adding to the confusion with our lack of precision. So I’m open to debate on this one. What do you think?

Author

Adam Kane: kanead[at]tcd.ie

Photo credit

wikimedia commons

How to save time with twitter

I was recently asked to write a blog post for SpotOn (Science policy outreach and tools Online) and thought I’d share a modified version of it here. If you’ve never heard of it, SpotOn is a series of community events hosted by Nature Publishing Group for the discussion of how science is carried out and communicated online. There are loads of excellent resources on the website which I’d urge you to check out if you’re at all interested in using the internet more in academia. I will probably write more blog posts about this in the next few weeks. Anway, here’s my post:

SpotOn London 2012: How to save time with twitter

Productivity gurus suggest that when faced with a list of tasks you should divide them into urgent and non-urgent, and important and unimportant tasks. Important urgent tasks should be prioritised; non-urgent unimportant tasks should sink to the bottom of the pile. Defining what is urgent is one thing, but defining what is important is quite another! Certain things are clearly important. But what about online activity such as writing blog posts or using twitter? Is that important?

Until recently I would have said no, but in August I decided to sign up to twitter (prompted by an excellent article in the BES magazine by @Philip_A_Martin). At first I felt I was getting very little out of the experience, except finding yet another way to waste my increasingly precious time. But then I realized the time I was spending on twitter was one of the highlights of my day. I was finding out about new research, gaining teaching materials, discussing science and networking with people across the globe. All in my pyjamas while drinking my morning cup of tea! This has led me to believe that almost every part of life as an academic can be enhanced by using twitter and, perhaps more importantly, that using twitter can save time in the long run. This may seem like a rather grandiose claim but I’ll try and convince you!

Networking and promoting your science

Perhaps the most obvious use of twitter is to promote your science and to network with distant colleagues -@mickresearch really impressed upon me the benefits of being able to have a global network of colleagues without having to spend time (or increase your carbon footprint) travelling. I’ve also seen examples of research collaborations started by discussions on twitter and, as many people have pointed out, it’s easier to network at conferences if you’ve already interacted with someone online. Thus twitter allows you to use your limited time at conferences much more efficiently. Twitter is also an effective way of promoting your papers without the need to write a long press release – 140 characters and a link to the webpage and you’re done!

Teaching

I rarely have time to trawl the literature for new and exciting examples to engage my students and keep my lectures up to date, but with twitter I don’t have to. My twitter feed is full of interesting new papers, blog posts, photos of crazy creatures and titbits of information that help me liven up my lectures. And I’m only minimally using twitter’s capacity to enhance teaching. Teaching through twitter is also an option: recently @Drew_Lab gave a lecture to students via twitter because they couldn’t make it to class after hurricane Sandy. The students were able to ask questions and have discussions, and people outside the class also joined in (although @Drew_Lab did briefly end up in twitter jail in the process!). This could be a wonderful way of supporting flexible working practices.

PhD student supervision

In our school, students are expected to complete their PhDs in 3 years, so efficient supervision is critical. However, I don’t have the time to teach them everything they need to know in a timely fashion. Currently my focus is on helping them to plan their projects but they also need training in data management before they start generating data. Luckily twitter saved the day again with some excellent slides and a help document on data management from @carlystrasser. This saved me time now, and possibly countless hours in the future as I won’t need to help them sort out badly organized data when they get to their analyses.

Research

Another thing I rarely have time for these days is reading research papers. There are so many that it’s hard to even find time to read all the abstracts, let alone get any idea of the methods employed. Again twitter helps. People post information on new papers they’ve read and found interesting; they post links to blogs about papers that are much quicker and easier to read than the full paper. There are also lots of posts about new methods, R packages, statistical issues and new datasets. Knowing the up-to-date consensus on analytical methods can save lots of time dealing with referee’s comments in the future! Using twitter gives me a little time each day to think about these kinds of things, and to consider new avenues of research. Without this opportunity I could go for weeks thinking about nothing other than my next lecture!

Science policy

@AtheneDonald recently pointed out the large number of science policy makers found on twitter. Science policy, whether it be promoting women in science, the proposed badger cull, or changes in the kinds of research funding bodies will support, is really important to all of us. But finding time to process all of this information is impossible. Twitter gives me a quick digest of the major issues, and alerts me to things that I will need to act on in the future.

Sense of community

Finally, I think this is the nicest, and perhaps most often overlooked, aspect of twitter: the sense of community. It’s far too easy to feel overwhelmed by the extreme pressure of academia, no matter what level you’re at, and to feel as if you’re the only one who isn’t coping. This may go some way to explaining the “leaky pipeline” for female scientists. So it’s reassuring to see other academics tweeting about the stress they are under balancing work and home life, or their difficulties in writing grants, getting papers published or finding a job. It’s also wonderful to see people supporting one another through these crises. I think this aspect is particularly important for women, parents with young children and people with flexible working hours, who may lack the support network they need in their own institutions.

In conclusion, I think the benefits of twitter go far beyond those of promoting yourself online. Although it takes time, if you can manage that time into sensible short blocks I think you can save yourself time in the long run. And if you’re a busy junior faculty member like me (or a busy senior faculty member for that matter), being able to discuss research on twitter can remind you why you got into academia in the first place!

Author

Natalie Cooper: ncooper@tcd.ie

@nhcooper123

Photo credit

wikimedia commons

A Waxwing winter you say?

The Bohemian Waxwing Bombycilla garrulus might not be a bird you are too familiar with, but this winter might change all that, for it seems we’re heading for a Waxwing winter. Don’t worry; Waxwings are not giant, flesh-eating birds. They are, in fact, a small and very beautiful passerine species that migrate to our lands to feast on fruiting bushes and trees.

The breeding range of the Bohemian Waxwing extends across most of northern Europe, Asia and western North America, and our nearest breeding populations are to be found in northern Sweden and Finland. These exotic-looking birds visit us each winter in small numbers but some years, known as irruption years, when the resources available at their breeding grounds are not enough to meet the demands of the population, there are huge migratory influxes into Ireland and Britain. One such cause of these irruption years is a failure of the berry crop and this is said to have happened across Scandinavia this year.

These birds typically arrive on the north and east coasts and make their way inland as they gorge on our rowan, hawthorn, rose hip and cotoneaster berries. Waxings tend to frequent urban areas as rowan and other trees line many of our gardens, streets and car parks (so next time you’re out shopping stop, listen and have a wee look around). I’ve heard from numerous people this year that the berry crop in Ireland has been very poor and this could spell bad news for the Waxwings. On top of this, we receive huge influxes of winter thrushes such as Redwing, Fieldfare and continental Blackbirds which are also berry fans, making for stiff competition.

So what then for the Waxwings? It seems likely they will keep pushing further west and south in search of more food – some have already shown up in Kerry, Cornwall and the Isles of Scilly! It will be exciting to see reports next year from monitoring programmes such as BirdTrack as to how far south, and in what numbers, the Waxwings were forced to migrate in search of food. You can take part in reporting them too. It will also be very interesting to see how their populations fare over the winter, especially if it’s a severe one. Let’s hope they fare well.

Author

Sean Kelly: kellys17[at]tcd.ie

Photo credit

wikimedia commons

Tenrec tales

Tenrecs are one of the most interesting and fascinating mammal groups yet many people have never heard of them. They are one of only four mammalian groups to have colonised Madagascar, a land filled with evolutionary curiosities.

Tenrecs are a striking example of convergent evolution. From a single colonising ancestor, tenrecs have evolved into incredibly diverse species which resemble moles, shrews, hedgehogs and even otters! Contrary to appearances, tenrecs’ closest relatives are actually the golden moles and elephant shrews (Chrysochloridae). However, physical convergences are so strong that early taxonomists didn’t recognise tenrecs as being closely related to each other, an easy mistake to make when you look at this picture from Richard Dawkin’s 1996 book “Climbing Mount Improbable”.

Convergent evolution in tenrecs. The Algerian hedgehog, Erinaceus algirus (a), is a close cousin of the shrew hedgehog, Neotetracus sinensis (b). The greater hedgehog tenrec, Setifer setosus (c), is a close cousin of the long-tailed tenrec, Microgale melanorrhachis (d)

In addition to being great species for studying convergent evolution, the tenrec family includes a whole host of quirky traits. For example, the common tenrec (Tenrec ecaudatus), an animal which is only around 30 cm and 2kg, holds the record for the largest litter size of any mammal at an astounding 32 babies!

My personal favourite tenrec oddity is the unusual means of communication found in the lowland streaked tenrecs (Hemicentetes semispinosus).  These cute critters are covered in spiny quills, a special set of which are used as a stridulating organ. Reminiscent of grasshoppers or crickets and uniquely among mammals, these tenrecs rub the quills together to produce sound which then allows them to keep in contact with their family group. This clip from the David Attenborough BBC series on Madagascar shows the stridulating tenrecs in action.

In short, tenrecs are an awesome family filled with evolutionary oddities yet they remain relatively understudied and poorly understood.

In my PhD work, I’m particularly interested in measuring the extent of convergent evolution in tenrecs and figuring out the reasons why they have evolved to be so similar to unrelated species. I’m also intrigued by early behavioural experiments which showed that 3 species of tenrec use echolocation. I want to test whether other tenrec species also echolocate and hopefully link this behavioural convergence to genetic similarities in “echolocating genes” which are conserved in whales and bats.

In the meantime, a charming children’s book gives the perfect excuse for some light, PhD-related extra reading!

Author

Sive Finlay: sfinlay[at]tcd.ie

Photo credits

wikimedia commons

Richard Dawkins

Academic heroes

Most people have heroes. As this is a science blog I’m guessing you are already battling out Captain Kirk vs Spock, Batman vs Spiderman or Inspector Gadget vs MacGyver, in your head in order to choose the most appropriate hero. But here, I mean academic hero. That person whose work becomes the foundation of our academic thinking or that we simply admire for their lifetime academic achievements. Deciding on our academic hero makes a great conversation topic and it usually ends up covering pretty much the whole history of science. In my lab, there is an ongoing interest for academic heroes. Some of us would even secretly (or not) like to have a bobble head of our academic hero.

As I work in a mostly theoretical lab whose research is pretty broad, ranging from fisheries, to social evolution and behaviour (some lab members, when asked, simply reply “ecology”), it is not surprising that our academic heroes are not the same person. Even agreeing on what could constitute one, is sometimes controversial. Some scientists just have to be heroes, for example Darwin would be in most academic’s top five for his theory on natural selection, and so would Watson and Crick for the discovery of the DNA double helix that changed the way we do science. But few people would contest their achievements are worthy of the academic hero title and consequently not much fun for a bobble head. Others, in fact most, are surrounded with pro and con arguments and we must be passionate enough to defend them (as we would for Spock). For example, Richard Dawkins is a name that pops up in the blogosphere quite often as an academic hero, not because of his forefront ideas but for popularizing evolution, a hot topic among the public. Should he be a contender for academic hero? Surely Carl Sagan who made cosmology popular is.

My academic hero, which I shall not name as I might meet him someday and I don’t want to appear a ‘fangirl’ (which I am but doesn’t sound very professional…), amazes me for the numerous ideas and frameworks he put forward in many different subfields. Those ideas and frameworks are perhaps not recognized as important as DNA or natural selection, and many have been rebutted already. However, without them, the progress in ecology and evolution would have been much slower and would likely have taken a different route, i.e. he shaped the field. In my view, he is definitely bobble head material! I’m generally a shy person and a few years ago I missed the opportunity to meet my academic hero in a conference to shyness. How do we go about introducing ourselves to our heroes? Imagine going to Batman and saying “Hello, I LOVE the way you save the world, could you sign my bat-shirt please?”

We always read about tales of people meeting their heroes and generally something embarrassing happens… have you met you academic hero? Tell us your tale.

Author

Mafalda Viana: vianam[at]tcd.ie

Photo credit

wikimedia commons