In December 2023 the discipline of Zoology in the School of Natural Sciences, Trinity College Dublin were awarded a green certificate from My Green Lab after achieving a phenomenal score of 97%! This was a major effort thanks to a dedicated committee led by Emma King.
My Green Lab Committee (from left to right): Ebru Talak Bastürkmen, Aoife Molloy, Prof Paula Murphy, Emma King, Niamh McCartan, Grace McNicholas, Simon Benson, Aedín McAdams, Clinton Haarlem, Alison Boyce, and Grace Aspell.
What is My Green Lab?
My Green Lab Certification is awarded by My Green Lab to encourage sustainability in a lab-based environment. It has been recognised by the United Nations Race to Zero campaign as a key measure of progress towards a zero-carbon future. Even Science Foundation Ireland is encouraging participation recently provided support for applications. This can be undertaken by a single lab group or can even be carried out as a co-ordinated effort across a whole Discipline or School, as we did! Finally, once awarded, the certification lasts for two years and then needs to be reapplied for. Sustainability is a continuing process and there are always ways to improve!
On top of certification, there are many of programmes run by My Green Lab to encourage sustainability. These programmes provide guidance and inspiration to improve specific operations such as ultra-cold freezers and green chemistry. We have also previously partaken in the freezer challenge which was a big help in maximising our energy efficient use of freezers!
Our Journey
Way back in December 2022 a Green Lab committee was formed with at least one person representing each lab group. We first met to find out what My Green Lab certification was all about. We then completed a survey asking all sorts of questions in areas like travel, purchasing, and water. After returning the surveys we received a baseline score (of 55% which is still a bronze certificate so not bad aye). From here we could target where we could improve our sustainability and how to implement changes.
This was a team effort which involved regular meetings to keep on top of our progress and ensure we were improving steadily. We learned from each other and the co-operation and communication ensured that the learnings were spread across the whole discipline. Committee members then reported back to each of their lab groups to see what can change and be improved internally. Our score was also greatly improved by finding out a lot of information, this included finding relevant policies which were already in place departmentally. This endeavour was mainly taken on by our wonderful Senior Technical Officer Alison Boyce and Department Head Prof Paula Murphy.
Then in November 2023 the committee filled out the final survey. We completed it at the same time so if anyone had a question it could be answered immediately. This is where we scored 97%!
My Green Labs green certificate for the Discipline of Zoology
It has been an extremely rewarding journey, and one we are proud of! If any of you readers are interested in getting involved the committee would be happy to give some directions. Just email us (ecoevoblog@gmail.com) and we can send you on to the right people!
As usual, if you have any questions or ideas about a blog, please feel free to get onto us via Twitter, Instagram, Facebook or email.
We’ve all been there, trying to get some out of reach object only to dejectedly ask for the assistance of another. Turns out, this behavior has been with us for most of our lives. It is known that children as young as 12 months will start to point at certain objects that they desire but are, for obvious reasons, unable to obtain (Figure 2). This behaviour is known as imperative pointing and, as it turns out, you don’t even need to point to be able to do it. In fact, gaze alteration, the process of looking between the desired object and a specific individual, is seen as an analog of this in our four-legged friends, the canines. This behavior has been widely examined in domesticated dogs, who humans have a long history of cohabitation with. Indeed, many of us can probably offer anecdotal evidence of this in our own dogs, be it looking at treats on a shelf, or their favourite toys on kitchen tabletops. However, surprisingly, it has never been studied in wolves, the wild relatives of our beloved pooches. In 2016, Heberlein et al. set to change this, and their findings have some important implications, not least concerning our understanding of the very domestication of dogs itself.
Figure 2: A cartoon of imperative pointing in infants
The experimental premise was relatively simple. A group of grey wolves (subspecies: timber wolf) and a group of dogs (breed not given), were both obtained from animal shelters in Europe and were raised from puppyhood with daily human interaction. When the canines were around 2 years old, the experiment began with a pre-feeding and training phase. This involved an experimental room with 3 boxes (Figure 3), each too high for the canines to reach by jumping, the poor guys. In this phase, food was first shown to the animals, one animal at a time, and then clearly placed in each of the boxes. If the animal looked at the box and then at the human, the human would automatically get the food for them. The wolves and dogs were then introduced to 2 new humans, a mean competitor who would steal the food, and a helpful cooperator, who would share any food the animals identified. This whole process would serve to inform the canines that the humans could provide them with out of reach food, but that only the cooperator would actually give them any of it. Why go through all this trouble you may ask? Well, turns out there were some very clever scientists involved in the experiment. Those involved wanted to avoid the possibility that gaze alteration for food could simply be the result of a food human association, i.e., if I stare at a box and then a human, then the human must give me food. If gaze alteration reflects some true communicative intention on the part of the animals, then one would expect that they should ask for help mainly from the cooperative human, I know I definitely prefer working with cooperative humans. Once trained, the test was ready to begin.
The actual experiment involved a tasty sausage being presented to a lone wolf/dog and then being hidden in one of 3 boxes located in the room, the same room used in pre-training. Then, either the cooperative human or the competitive human, the same humans the animals had been trained with, entered the room. They would passively observe the animal for 1 minute after which they would go to the box they believed the animal was looking at. If correct then the sausage would wither be given to the animal, if the cooperator was present, or eaten by the human, if the competitor was present. The process was repeated a total of 4 times, twice with each type of human.
Figure 3: The experimental setup. Stars represent the food boxes, the circle is where the human was positioned, and D is the rooms door.
The results were incredibly interesting. In most cases, the canines, both wolves and dogs, showed the correct food location to the cooperator but not the competitor (P = 0.006) (Figure 4). Importantly, there was no difference between this behaviour between the two species (P = 0.24). As an aside, P values are statistical values that tell you if there is a significant difference between two things. All you need to know is 1) Any P value less than 0.05 means that the event is unlikely to have happened by chance and 2) That scientists are very fond of including them in their papers. In any case, what’s even more interesting is what these results can tell us about their evolutionary histories. While both directed the cooperative human to the food box, wolves spent more time looking at the food itself when compared to the dogs (P = 0.03). This may reflect a higher food motivation present in wolves. Intuitively this makes sense, as, while some of us would surely like them to be, wolves are not pets and so need to hunt for food themselves. In addition, the ability of dogs to referentially communicate with humans was thought to be a result of their domestication and close association with us ever since. The results of this experiment would, however, suggest that this ability was at least present in the common ancestor of the wolves and domestic dogs. Therefore, rather than this communication being a product of domestication, it is more likely that the skill of referential communication had evolved in canines to promote the social coordination needed for group living, i.e., living in their packs. In other words, the common ancestor of today’s canines may have also been a good boy.
Figure 4: A graph comparing the percentage of showing behaviour, i.e., gaze alteration, in wolves and dogs towards competitive and cooperative humans.
In summary, dogs, are not alone in their ability to ability to referentially communicate with us. This ability is shared with the grey wolf and the choice to work with a cooperative human over a competitive one provides evidence that there is some conscious thought in this decision-making process (both in dogs and wolves). While this raises important questions about the evolutionary histories of these animals, more intriguing questions remain. Namely, what other well-known traits of dogs are also present, but undiscovered, in wolves. Personally, I am very much excited to find out.
Figure 5: Grey wolf puppies playing next to their mother.
For more information on this topic, you can read the paper discussed here(free of charge)
Blog written by Niall Moore, a final year undergraduate student, as part of an assignment writing blogs about an animal behaviour paper!
As the semester flies by, the EcoEvo annual Photo Competition draws ever closer!
The 2022/2023 showcasing will be the sixth instalment in the series and if previous years are anything to go by, the judges will have an extremely tough time choosing a winner. Year on year, the bar seems to have risen ever higher so we’re excited to see what you have in store for us!
For those of you in the dark, the EcoEvo Photo Competition is one of the most highly anticipated events of the year for Botany and Zoology, with the winner receiving prestige and respect from the Trinity Natural Sciences cohort. If that isn’t enough for you, the photo that claims first prize also gets to be shown off for year, becoming the new cover photo for the EcoEvo Blog and profile image on all social media pages. This competition gives us all a chance to present the amazing and strange snippets of our research that often miss out on the opportunity to be shared, so send us on whatever you’ve got!
Katrin Schertenleib captured a beautiful moment between two adult Puffins (Fratercula arctic) off the coast of Wexford on the Great Saltee island last year. Currently the poster image for the EcoEvo blog, is it soon to be succeeded by the 2022/23 winner! Clickhere to see the other entries from last year’s Photo Competition
To enter into the competition, all you have to do is send your photo along with a short caption and/or story to the EcoEvo email account (ecoevoblog@gmail.com). Following on from the successful system of previous years, the entries will be anonymized and sent to an unbiased third party to be judged, ensuring that an equal and fair opportunity is given to each and every participant.
Winners From Earlier Competitions
The five previous exhibitions have each produced a fantastic array of photos. With snapshots coming from the corners of Southeast Sulawesi to the Galapagos Islands and even up to high latitudes of the Arctic. Members of Botany and Zoology have brought us to some of the most amazing and beautiful landscapes on Earth.
To see the 2017 Photo Competition entries, clickhere
The winner of the inaugural Photo Competition back in 2017 stole the show with a wandering Alpine Salamander (Salamandra atra). This little guy was captured by Alain Finn high up in the Swiss Alps.
To see the 2018 Photo competition entries, click here
Dr Laura Russo was next to snatch first prize in 2018, with the winning snapshot being taken closer to home. This chocolate mining bee (Andrena scotica) found a comfy spot on Laura in the Trinity Botanic Gardens at Darty.
To see the 2019 Photo competition entries, click here
Jenny Bortoluzzi claimed the 2019 win with an incredible photo from her expedition to the high Arctic where she and her team had the once in a lifetime opportunity to see a female polar bear (Ursus maritimus) in her natural environment. While stunningly beautiful, this image also strikes a chord – a daunting reminder of the uncertain future of the polar regions.
To see the 2020 Photo competition entries, click here
A male Rufous-tailed hummingbird (Amazilia tzacatl) snatched the win in the 2020 showcasing of the Photo Competition, and rightfully so! These tiny birds are notoriously difficult to photograph but Floriane O’Keeffe managed to capture one mid-flight, an impressive feat.
We hope that seeing some of the past winners and runners up strikes ambition within you to photograph everything in the natural world around you. With all that said and done we eagerly await your submissions! Please send them in before the end of December. Winner to be announced in the New Year.
We wish you all the best of luck in the sixth annual EcoEvo Photo Competition!
How unlikely it is to think that many people who decided to dedicate themselves to a natural sciences-related field wondered at least once about the life of an eighteenth-century naturalist?
Picture Alexander von Humboldt, Charles Darwin or Joseph Banks expeditions, or René Malaise and Gustav Eisen‘s impressive efforts in gathering human specimens and artefacts. How about Roderick Murchinson and his geological surveys around the world, or Hans Sloane, whose collections contributed to the foundation of London’s beloved British Museum? The imaginaries of explorers crossing oceans towards yet unknown territories, observing and sampling specimens never seen before, naming and using them to interpret the world, are striking, to say the least.
Nevertheless, other narratives are growing beside these settled imaginaries. It is increasingly recognised how those exact figures were far from the idea we have of them: solitary geniuses and intrepid explorers, nothing related to the politics and economies of their time. Instead, their journeys would rest on the routes of British imperialism, making use of the slave trade in the case of Sloane,1 or be sponsored by intelligence operations on foreign valuable minerals and local policies such as the case of Murchinson2. Even an important institution such as the Royal Botanic Garden in Kew now acknowledges how the boost that botanical research saw at the time was supported by interests in new profitable plants3. Likewise, it is recognised how the global network of botanic gardens emerged not only to create pleasant green spaces but also to have experimental facilities dedicated to researching those exotic new plants for valuable products. As a matter of fact, the search and cultivation of plants such as the rubber tree, a source of such a profitable material, or the Cinchona tree, from which the compound quinine was isolated and used against malaria by the occupying forces in the tropics, have been central to the expansion of the British empire4. The very same collection of animal, plant and human samples can be considered to be driven by similar dynamics. What was discovered in the colonised territories was taken, shipped to the collectors’ homelands, and then housed in centres that, in turn, expanded to accommodate the increasing flow of materials, being a source of knowledge for the benefit of their host institutions. This colonial dimension of the sciences that study nature remained unaddressed in the mainstream imaginaries, although some already glimpsed it. Like Sir Ronald Ross, a doctor engaged in the fight against malaria in the Sierra Leone colonies, who in 1899 publicly expressed how the success of imperialism in the following century would largely depend on success with the microscope 5.
Much has been written about “how modern sciences were built on a system that exploited millions of people, at the same time justifying and supporting it to an extent that greatly influenced how Western people view other ethnic groups and countries”6. At the same time, others point out that “one should not fall into the prospective error of asking nineteenth-century men to reason with post-colonial categories developed after World War II” 7. Likewise, those who work or are interested in these fields today might easily feel far from this legacy, either because of the time that has passed since that era or because of the desk-based nature of their research. Why think about it then? Wasn’t this a blog just about ecology and evolution?
Yet, systems linked to colonial trauma continue to shape the experience of many ecologists, naturalists, biologists, and even anthropologists, today. At the same time, many narratives are still influenced by worldviews that see the advances in the natural or biological realm as carriers of better health, civilization or culture. The consequences of these processes are tangible. A perspective article in Nature Ecology and Evolution8 speaks of colonialism in the mind first, referring to the way a Western scholar might relate to knowledge. From the simple use of language, as when talking about the Neotropical region (new to whom?), or the overwriting of Latin names, sometimes derived from the names of their European discoverers, to the traditional names by which some species are recognized, often more informative about behaviours or characteristics of that species. It could be through devaluating local knowledge, oral traditions, and artefacts that made it possible to navigate an environment in a surprisingly (for us) detailed way, relegating them to folklore or anecdotes, going so far as to claim scientific discoveries, for example, medical properties of plants, already known and shared by local communities for a long time. Fuelling the idea that any active ingredient or species is only really discovered when it enters Western scientific literature, even if they come from a non-systematic and oral knowledge that a population held for centuries.
Figure from Trisos et al. (2021). Map showing the minimum estimate for each country of the number of bird species for which the Latin binomial name is based on a European person.
Other than the mindset, inequalities are also visible on a very practical level: the scientific subordination of formerly colonised countries to researchers of the so-called Old World, better known as parachute or helicopter science. The role of local scientists has often been reduced as labourers employed in data analysis and collection for Western scientists. Adding to this, there are the issues with accessing that same knowledge produced in the ‘Global North’, either because samples or data are stored in museums or servers far away from the places they were collected, the absence of high-speed internet, the lack of the right networks, visa issues for accessing conferences9, or simply the high costs of publishing or even accessing scientific literature. Other ways in which parachuting occurs are through drawing on the traditional knowledge of these countries, when this is not belittled, cataloguing and publishing information without mentioning the contribution of local curators and experts.
Figure from Asase et al. (2022). Summary of the relationship between the number of authorships (i.e., representation as author or coauthor) on 9935 papers on “ecology” or “conservation” in Web of Science, for 2015–2020 versus per-capita gross domestic product (GDP).
Another important discussion is about climate change mitigation and rewilding projects when benefits that will be experienced globally demand costs to be felt locally, especially when adequate resources and support are not provided, or when measures impose worldviews external to local values and needs. The same article brings the example of a no-fishing zone established in French Polynesia which was detrimental to local fishermen’s needs, thus ending in simply not being respected and ultimately not helping the conservation efforts on the target fish stock. Top-down management of this kind proved itself to be not only erosive for people’s self-determination but also undermines the very objective of the project.
Many of the difficulties in the field of land management and nature conservation stem right from the relationship with local communities: other risks beyond not considering them (as in the case above), is romanticising them, possibly falling into the Western myth of the good savage, or assuming that indigenous people are willing to do what we ask. Rather, it would be important to recognize that like any human community, the local people we encounter during our work as scientists might have legitimate political, cultural and economic aspirations that could differ from our expectations.
Decolonizing the natural sciences is not a trivial matter. It certainly does not mean throwing away all that has been learned so far and starting afresh, making only use of ancient artefacts and indigenous tales. For many, it is a matter of reflecting critically on their profession, on the political context that allowed the development of each one’s work, on the power structures to which science might have contributed, taking dignity away from some bodies more than others. To “take a stand and recognize ourselves as part of the system we wish to describe, rather than as neutral actors, becoming aware of how backgrounds and training influence the questions that are asked, trying to understand how the data is interpreted and how our work might intersect with the power of companies or extractive interests over a place” 8.
Decolonization would not only be a matter of awareness but also make sure that research methods and implications are not in contrast with local values and management. This would certainly restrict researchers’ access or capacity for action, but it would be an important trade-off for all those who repeatedly had to give up their territories or lifestyles.
Discussions like this are indeed taking root. It happens when researchers use local languages alongside the traditional binomial taxonomic system, or initiatives are taken from established institutions, such as the case of the American Ornithological Society and its statement for changing harmful and exclusionary English bird names thoughtfully and proactively for species10. Or like the Biodiversity Heritage Library, now working to make their materials available in languages other than English11, the Pitt Rivers Museum12 and London’s Natural History Museum13, with their projects aimed at sharing the stories of colonialism behind their collections. More and more resources are becoming available for establishing healthy stewardships with indigenous communities14 or addressing parachute science15,16,17, or simply engaging with diverse experiences from diverse scholars18, 19.
On a side note (but not really), it is also worth mentioning the call for an intersectional approach to these challenges. Noticing how an individual’s capacity to contribute to public and scholarly discourse does not only rely on race/ ethnicity, but similar power dynamics might be in place based on gender, nationality, indigeneity, wealth, spirituality, sexuality, parenthood/dependencies and other identities. “An intersectional approach to practising ecology recognizes the multiple barriers and opportunities facing those working together”8.
These discourses might seem marginal to someone working now on their own seemingly unrelated passion project. Nevertheless, reflecting on how plants, animals, environments, and people intersected and influenced each other in different directions is indeed relevant.
Among all, it is the field of ecology and evolution that explores the relationships between living beings and the environment in which they live. Acknowledging diversity, not only in biological terms but also within systems of knowledge, solutions and stories of the people who are part of it – including their gender, ethnicity and nationality – is certainly a way to widen one’s lens on the world.
Figure from Trisos et al. 2021. Actions that support reformulating research questions and processes for a decolonizing ecology. Credit: Keren Cooper (illustrations).
I am a visiting researcher at Trinity College Botanic Garden, working on the establishment of its long-term environmental monitoring program and interested in the human dimension of ecological systems dynamics. I wrote this post from the perspective of a western, female, early career researcher, and by no means do I wish to take ownership of the views of those who experience inequity and discrimination on a daily basis, nor do I believe this offers a complete or global understanding of such a complex problem. Rather, I hope to contribute to mainstreaming such an ongoing struggle, thanks also to the encouragement coming from discussing and comparing with peers.
Trisos, C.H., Auerbach, J. & Katti, M. (2021). Decoloniality and anti-oppressive practices for a more ethical ecology. Nat Ecol Evol 5, 1205–1212. https://doi.org/10.1038/s41559-021-01460-w
Das, S. & Lowe, M. (2018). Nature Read in Black and White: decolonial approaches to interpreting natural history collections. Journal of Natural Science Collections 6, 4 ‐ 14. https://natsca.org/article/2509
Asase, A., Mzumara-Gawa, T. I., Owino, J. O., Peterson, A. T., & Saupe, E. (2022). Replacing “parachute science” with “global science” in ecology and conservation biology. Conservation Science and Practice, 4( 5), e517. https://doi.org/10.1111/csp2.517
Singeo, A., & Ferguson, C. E. (2022). Lessons from Palau to end parachute science in international conservation research. Conservation Biology, 00, e13971. https://doi.org/10.1111/cobi.13971
Ramírez-Castañeda, V., Westeen, E., Frederick, J., Amini, S., Wait, D., Achmadi, A., Andayani, N., Arida, E., Arifin, U., Bernal, M., Bonaccorso, E., Bonachita Sanguila, M., Brown, R., Che, J., Condori, F., Hartiningtias, D., Hiller, A., Iskandar, D., Jiménez, R., Khelifa, R., Márquez, R., Martínez-Fonseca, J., Parra, J., Peñalba, J., Pinto-García, L., Razafindratsima, O., Ron, S., Souza, S., Supriatna, J., Bowie, R., Cicero, C., McGuire, J. and Tarvin, R. (2022). A set of principles and practical suggestions for equitable fieldwork in biology. Proceedings of the National Academy of Sciences, 119(34). https://doi.org/10.1073/pnas.2122667119
“Most people who bother with the matter at all would admit that the English language is in a bad way, but it is generally assumed that we cannot by conscious action do anything about it.”
So George Orwell began his 1946 essay Politics and the English Language, which is still relevant today as both a guide and a warning. Reading it now (the whole thing is available online courtesy of the Orwell Foundation), it strikes me that the decline Orwell saw in the English language might be blamed on science as much as politics. Three of his “five specimens” of poor writing come from academia (one of them written by a prominent zoologist), and many of the specific writing habits he criticises are ones I see regularly in modern papers. One of our recent “NERD Club” discussion sessions was based on Orwell’s essay and related topics, as we looked for the conscious actions that might help us to write clearly and accurately.
Today’s post features Mo’s Guide to SciComm in Ireland, written by Maureen Williams based on her four years of PhD research and outreach. These are great opportunities for any Dublin-based PhD students, but check them out even if that’s not you. There’s definitely something you can learn from these events, whether as a participant or an audience member!
Maureen says: “Most of the people who run these events are INCREDIBLY kind and helpful. If you’re passionate about any of these, and have more questions, I’m happy to help.” Continue reading “Science Communication Opportunities”
This paper was my first review paper as well as my first paper written from afar, without ever actually meeting in a room with the co-authors for working on the project.
Difficulty: *
Preparation time: 5 month to submission
Serves: 5 people (but any manageable number of people who you like working with will do)
Ingredients:
An exciting topic:
For this recipe you will need an exciting topic.
In this case, prior to writing the review, we had often discussed the prevalence of scavenging behaviour through time and what ecological factors influence it.
More generally, the topic should be broad enough to allow every person to look for anecdotes (did you know there was once a ‘scavenging bat called *Necromantis*?’ and to bring these together in an interesting, more generalised framework. Continue reading “A recipe for collaboration”
Last month, the Zoology Department’s Dr. David Kelly launched his first book of Japanese short form poetry, Hammerscale from the Thrush’s Anvil. At the launch of the book, David invited us in the audience to try our hand at writing our own haikus.
Taking him up on his challenge, and taking inspiration from his book, a few of us in the School of Natural Sciences have penned our own poems based on our areas of study. We even have a contribution from David Kelly himself!
Trying not to sacrifice coherency at the alter of syllable number was a rather new struggle for most of us, but we managed and, I’d like to think, emerged with a greater appreciation for the poets in our midst. Read on for our science-y foray into the arts!
Earlier this month, postgraduate students of the Zoology department compete in the fourth annual ‘School of Natural Sciences Lightning Talks’ alongside students and staff from Botany and Geology.
We all presented 120-second snapshots of our research and were judged by a panel. Judges included the Head of the School of Natural Sciences Professor Fraser Mitchell, Science Gallery’s Aine Flood and Trinity’s press officer for the Faculty of engineering, mathematics and science, Thomas Deane.
Zoology had two winners on the night, Darren O’Connell (@oconned5) for his presentation on ‘Character release in the absence of a congeneric competitor’ and myself, Rachel Byrne, on my research titled ‘Parasites of badgers in Ireland- an untold story.’
Most of us were glued to the hugely anticipated premier of Planet Earth 2 this Sunday. We watched lovesick sloths meander through the mangroves, giant dragons battle it out on Komodo, and penguins getting fecked off cliffs by monstrous waves.
But if there was one scene that got us talking more than any other it was the literal race for survival that took place between a newly hatched marine iguana and an ominous pack of southern black racer snakes. The baby iguana had us shouting at the telly and clutching our faces while we watched its mad dash to the freedom of the ocean’s edge, avoiding the snakes’ fangs.
While we hoped against hope that the hatchling would make it, David Attenborough reminded us that for the snakes this was also a matter of life and death. Snakes have to eat, and for them the iguana hatching season means their best chance all year for hunting food. Continue reading “Iguana vs Snakes | Planet Earth 2”
